He noticed immediately, wiping them away with the backs of his fingers. “Tears, sweeting? Is something wrong? Have I frightened you?”
“No,” she hastened to reas
sure him, amazed she was capable of forming coherent speech. “Nothing is wrong, Rafe. Everything is right.”
Too right. And it was both that awareness and the ferocity of her body’s physical reaction to him that had led to the overwhelming swell of emotion. Worse, it would never be this right again. She knew it. Had always known it. Rafe was not meant to be hers and nor was she meant to be his.
But they had tonight, and it was not over yet.
“You are sure?” He was frowning, his gaze searching hers, concern etched on his handsome face.
“Oh yes.”
She punctuated her reassurance with a kiss and drew him once more flat against her. The length of him prodded her belly, thick and demanding. Her curiosity had a will of its own, and while their tongues tangled, her fingers sought him, circling around the engorged shaft.
He was hot.
That was her first thought.
And sleek and silken in a way that was surprising. Larger, even, than she had supposed. Long and thick. Once more, she wondered how this would work. She possessed a rudimentary knowledge of the marriage bed thanks to life at Silwood Manor and her father’s extensive stable. But this was not a marriage bed, and neither of them were horses.
As she gave him a tentative stroke, Rafe moaned and tore his mouth from hers, hips thrusting, pushing him deeper into her hand. The tip of him was wet, and her thumb found this curiosity, sweeping the slickness in circles the way he had done to her.
“Christ.” His voice was low and thick, the muscles of his back tense beneath her other fingers. “You will have me spending in your hand if you don’t take care.”
“Would that be wrong?” she asked, giving him another stroke, this one less tentative, for his body was telling her more than his words ever could.
A strangled sound fled him, his hips moving again. “Ah, lovely. What am I to do with you?”
He kissed the bridge of her nose in what had become a familiar gesture. Perhaps he truly did adore her freckles as he had claimed. She was feeling bold and restless, so she continued what she was doing, moving up and down his shaft. How different and unique a man’s body was.
“Do you like this?” she asked breathlessly, watching his gaze as it seemed to change color, the gray flecks becoming more pronounced.
He nuzzled her ear. “I love it. Need you ask?”
She supposed she did not, but words eluded her just then. He seemed to grow even larger in her hand. An answering ache began deep inside her, one she knew would not be satisfied unless he made love to her.
She kissed his shoulder, his neck, worked her lips over his Adam’s apple, the prickle of his whiskers a delight to her already heightened senses. The scent of his soap, lingering on his skin, mingling with musky man, filled her head with fire. Their bodies were entwined, his hardness pulsing in her palm, and she had never felt more alive. It was as if she had been born for this moment, for this man.
As if she had been preordained to love him.
“Please,” she said against his skin, inhaling swiftly that she might trap the scent of him in her memory forever. “Make me yours, Rafe. I need you.”
“How are you feeling, sweet?” He nibbled on her earlobe, making her shiver. “I do not want to go too fast for you or to frighten you.”
It seemed he could not proceed fast enough to Persephone’s frenzied mind. But she did not say that. He was being gentle and sweet, so concerned for her welfare. Her heart swelled.
“I want to replace the memories,” she told him. “I want there to only be you. Never what happened before.”
She was not certain she would be able to banish thoughts of that terrible night or Lord Gregson from her mind forever. But she would try. And memories of Rafe—well, they would take her through her days.
They had to, for she could not have him forever. Only for now.
“It is easier for me to be atop you, at least the first time,” he said. “Will you be comfortable on your back?”
It was the position that had given her such troubles previously. The truth was, she had no way of knowing what her reaction would be. The last time had taken her by surprise. Her body had a memory of its own.
“I will try.” She kissed his chest, just above his pounding heart. The thump thump thump was a steady reassurance. “I know you will never hurt me.”