“Not yet,” he said, his lips sliding lower while he raised his hips and shifted his weight onto his arms. “Not quite yet.”
He leaned on one hand, freeing the other to stroke her, beginning with her leg. He brushed light, leisurely caresses upward from her knee to her thigh. He skimmed the place where her thighs met, and that alone was enough to make her whimper. Then he continued until he reached her breast. He gently cupped it a moment, letting the weight rest in his palm, before his fingertips danced slowly around the soft curve and glided toward her nipple. She gasped when he caressed the now stiff peak, then moaned when he lowered his head and sucked her nipple into his warm, wet mouth.
She wiggled and squirmed with the pleasure of it, lost to the myriad sensations created by his lips and tongue and fingers.
His mouth left her breast to again capture hers, this time with a fierce and hungry need. She could feel his control slipping away from him, knew he couldn’t wait much longer. She didn’t want to wait, either. He was her husband, and she his very willing bride.
She parted her legs and bent her knees, silently inviting him to take her, ready to gladly sacrifice her maidenhead to his questing manhood.
“Not yet,” he murmured, raising his head to smile at her.
“Now!” she ordered.
His eyes flashed fire but, smiling devilishly, he shook his head and stroked her belly. Lower. Then lower still. “Not yet.”
“Please, Merrick!”
“In a moment.”
“You, sir, are…” She threw back her head with a low groan as he pressed the heel of his hand between her thighs, where she was moist and throbbing. “The devil,” she finished, panting.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured as he bent again to pleasure her breasts.
“Liar!” she gasped as ripples of pure need seemed to spread from his tongue, until her whole body felt enflamed. “You’re hurting me now.”
He stilled and looked at her, his expression appalled.
“You’re wounding my pride by making me beg.”
That brought another disarmingly wicked smile to his face. “Would you rather I begged?”
Wondering if he could possibly be serious, if this proud, stern nobleman would ever really beg for anything, she nodded.
As his finger slid into her cleft, he looked into her eyes. “Please, Constance,” he whispered with a tenderness and yearning that touched her heart, “let me love you.”
How could any woman resist such a plea from such a man? “Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Yes! Love me now!”
He said no more and waited no longer. He positionedhimself between her legs, his hips against hers, his hands beside her head. She grabbed his shoulders and when she felt the head of his shaft against her, pushed forward. His eyes widened, but she didn’t care if he thought her wanton or impatient—for wanton and impatient she was.
There was a moment’s resistance until the membrane gave way and he was inside her. The pain was sharp, quick, like a cut of a knife. Again he stilled, and looked at her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clutching the bedsheets in her fists. “Please…don’t stop!”
“As you command, my lady,” he rasped and then, with a low growl of pure animal pleasure, thrust again.
She raised her head and, wrapping her arms about him, found his nipple and laved it with her tongue as he had hers. His breathing and his quickening thrusts encouraged her, and she became even bolder in her ministrations.
Until the sensation of his thrusting shaft, the anxious need of her own body, consumed everything else. She fell back, pulling him with her, holding him close as she locked her legs about him and licked and kissed every inch of his skin she could.
The tension within her was like a thread being pulled tighter and tighter. She clenched her teeth, bunched the sheet in her hands, panting hard.
And then…the straining need snapped and she rose, lifting her shoulders without even being aware of what she did, and crying out with release. She bucked as hejerked, and his groans joined with her cries as he, too, reached completion.
After the release dissipated, she relaxed, flat on her back, still panting, still slightly throbbing, aware of his weight on her, and his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily. She stroked his sweat-damp hair until he shifted away from her.
He fell against the pillows and stared up at the canopy over the bed while she turned to nestle against him. “How soon can we do that again?”
“How soon?” he asked, looking at her with surprise.
