A Daring Passion

“Oh,” she breathed as his tongue dipped into her belly button and then traced ever lower. “Dear heavens…”

“Heaven has nothing to do with this, meu amor,” he muttered as he deliberately scraped her sensitive skin with the rough whiskers on his chin. “But I have no strength to deny the devil’s temptation. Not on this night.”

She had no notion what he meant, but before she could demand he explain, Philippe dipped his head lower and she gave a small scream as she felt

his tongue stroke the very heart of her.

Her hands clasped his hair as he licked and teased with a ruthless intent. A part of her was shocked by such intimacy. Good Lord, she did not know this was even a part of making love. Certainly she had never heard it spoken of, even in whispers. It seemed…decadent. But, oh, so wonderful.

A moan escaped her lips as she arched off the bed. That sweet tension was once again clenching her muscles and tugging her toward a pinnacle that she half feared to reach.

“Do not fight it, Raine,” he whispered, as if able to read her mind with the ease of a master. “Just relax.”

Relax? He had to be out of his wits. Her entire body felt as if it had been wound so tight she would explode.

He shifted, his hands holding tight to her hips as he continued his delicious assault. Raine whimpered as the tension reached a breathless point, and then shattered into a million sparks of pleasure.

“Philippe.” She sighed as she floated slowly through the velvet darkness. “That was…that was amazing….”

“That, sweet Raine, was only the beginning.”

His body slid upward and once again he was between her legs. She felt the tip of him enter her and the odd lethargy was banished.

Sensing her sudden tension, he lightly kissed her lips before pulling back to regard her with a somber expression.

“Do not fear, I will not hurt you. We will take this as slowly as you need.”

Suiting his action to his words, Philippe kept his gaze locked on hers as he gently pushed into her. Raine felt stretched and uncomfortably full, but as he promised there was no pain.

There was a final thrust and he was completely inside her. He paused, as if waiting for her to adjust to the invasion before he slowly began to move.

At first Raine simply tried to accustom herself to the strange sensations, but as his head lowered and he nuzzled at her breasts she realized that her hips were beginning to lift of their own accord.

He groaned in approval, his steady pace beginning to quicken as that wondrous pleasure spiraled through her.

“Yes, meu amor,” he breathed, his hands moving to cup her hips and angle her so he could deepen his penetration.

Raine dug her nails into his shoulders as her breath came in short gasps, the pleasure coalescing into a burst of shocking waves.

Above her, Philippe’s features sharpened as he gave one last forceful thrust, and then with a wrenching groan he collapsed on top of her.

In a rather dazed wonderment Raine held on to him with weak arms.

He was inside her. A part of her. As if they were one.

And it was the most astonishing experience of her life.

CHAPTER SIX

PHILIPPE STRUGGLED TO recall how to breathe as he rolled to the side and held Raine in his arms. He was exhausted, his body still shuddering from the intensity of his climax.

Meu Deus, he was one and thirty and fully experienced in the most exotic forms of seduction. But nothing had prepared him for the stunning pleasure, the searing heat and wild abandon that could be found in the awkward caresses of an untried angel.

A distant part of his mind was whispering that he had just taken this woman’s innocence. That he debauched and despoiled a virgin. A sin that had had yet to be laid at his doorstep.

That part of his mind, however, was lost beneath the tide of sated bliss that flooded through him.

At last managing to recapture his breath, he gazed down at Raine’s flushed countenance as his fingers absently stroked through the halo of gleaming amber curls. The sweet scent of her skin filled his senses and he was quite certain that he would never again smell lilacs without thinking of this precise moment.