The Pursuits of Lord Kit Cavanaugh (The Cavanaughs 2)

They fed each other a banquet of caresses, lavish and enticing, yet ultimately unsatisfying. The activity only tightened their nerves more and drove them harder.

She could sense the coiling tension in him, in the contraction of his muscles, in the increasing pressure of his hands.

Emboldened, she reached for the waistband of his trousers and deftly flicked the buttons there free. Then she slid her hand beneath the opened flap and closed her fingers about his hard length.

He uttered a choked protest, but she doubted she was causing him any true pain as she stroked the steely rod encased in fine velvety skin.

Then she closed her fingers around the girth and gently squeezed.

Every muscle in his body tensed—as if to some breaking point.

On a muttered curse, he caught her wrist and hauled her hand away. Capturing her other hand as well, he came up in a roll.

Intrigued, she let him roll her to her back. As he settled over her, she wriggled and shifted until his hips lay between her spread thighs. Expectantly, she smiled up at him.

Only to realize he was almost glaring at her. “We’re supposed to be taking this slowly!”

She blinked and stared up at him. “Why?”

Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “In case it’s escaped your notice, you’re a virgin.”

“Yes, I know.” And she wasn’t of a mind to waste time discussing it. “It’s an issue I anticipate rectifying in short order.”

To underscore that intention, she slipped one hand free, caught his head, and hauled his lips back to hers, then seizing the moment, she undulated beneath him, using her breasts, her hips—as much of her as she could—to caress his hard body and urge him on.

He’d been patient, kind—generous. Tonight, she was his reward—and what a thought that was. She wrapped it around her like a safety net and plunged into the moment.

Into the unknown.

Into passion. His and hers.

She poured all her longing, all her passion and desires, into her kiss, let need and that hungry, now-ravenous wanting flare and invest her movements as, with wanton deliberation, she used her body to tempt him to sate them both.

Kit gave up—surrendered. What else could he do? He hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about this night, yet he’d had a vague notion of having to go step by slow step, gently easing her—a virgin—along the path to intimacy.

Instead, he had a commanding, demanding, fiery and passionate female in his arms.

He suddenly realized his error—the stupidity of his assumption. This was her—the real her he’d glimpsed for the first time when she’d stormed into his office weeks ago. The lady he’d been dealing with ever since—strong, confident, fiercely passionate. A lady who knew her own mind.

This was his Sylvia without any guise—exactly as he always wanted her to be when with him.

And she wanted him, valued him, and matched him in this arena as in all others.

He’d thought to claim her, and she patently intended to claim him.

He was already hers.

Releasing the reins he’d tried valiantly yet vainly to hold on to, he let her have her way.

And when her knowledge ran out and her certainty faded, he took over—and as she blatantly wished, he surrendered without reservation to the drumbeat in his veins and in hers, to the heat of the passion-filled flames that threatened to consume them.

Their skins were alive with need, their bodies beyond ready when he settled more deeply between her widespread thighs. The head of his erection sank into the scalding slickness of her entrance. His jaw clenched, his eyes closed as he battled his instincts, he forced himself to grind out, “This might hurt.” She was so tight, and he was distinctly well-endowed. He gritted his teeth and managed, “No, strike that. This will hurt.”

He felt her, hot and heated and panting beneath him, draw breath.

“I don’t care!” The words were almost a wail. “Just do it!”

He did. With one powerful thrust, he sheathed himself in the fiery embrace of her body. He froze, battling to give her a few moments at least to adjust, desperately reining in the instincts that urged him to plunder.