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But.
He could hear her breathing softly beside him. “Leah?” he whispered. His voice came out harsher than he’d planned.
She brought her small, capable hand to his bare chest. “Yes, Thad?”
Desire flooded him, made him ache. “Leah, I want—I want to make love to you.”
She laughed softly. “Yes, I want it, too.” Then she pressed her lips to his shoulder.
He lifted her chin and caught her mouth under his. Kissing her was like tasting something cool and soft and finding a blaze beneath the surface. He hadn’t expected it to feel this different; was it because he was different?
She parted her lips and he slid his tongue between them. A little moan escaped her, but he couldn’t stop tasting her. She was so sweet and hot he suddenly wanted to weep.
A voice in the back of his mind yammered for him to stop, but he couldn’t. Not now. There was only Leah and him, and he wanted all of her. Now. His hunger and his need were making him crazy, and when she moved in his arms he knew he was lost.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“I do want this,” she murmured. “I have wanted this for a long time, Thad. I have waited for it.” She brushed her lips against his throat. “I am glad it is happening now.”
His groan was muffled in the lemony scent of her hair. He skimmed one hand up under her silk night robe and found her breast, small and firm as a melon. Gently he ran his fingers over the nipple, stroking the soft flesh until it hardened into a peak.
Then, slowly and deliberately, he moved his hand below her waist into the soft hair between her thighs. He parted her legs and stroked his finger over her entrance. She was wet and hot. Oh, heavens above, he couldn’t stop. He would explode if he didn’t take her.
Gently, he pressed one finger into her soft, moist heat. She sucked air in between her teeth and he heard her voice.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes.”
He withdrew, then touched her again, deeper. And then he went still deeper, until he met a slight resistance.
She made a small moan of pleasure and arched to meet his hand. Oh, he knew he’d long since passed the point of stopping.
She murmured his name against his lips and smoothed her small hands over his skin, caressing him all the way down to his engorged member. His body decided for him; he couldn’t go back now.
Willing himself to go slowly, he rose above her, positioned himself and entered her as gently as he could. She gasped when he pushed past her maidenhead, and then she was moving with him, murmuring his name. Her breathing grew erratic and soon she was panting, as he was.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.
“No. No. It is wonderful. Beautiful.” She tightened her arms around him with a strength that surprised him.
All at once she cried out and he felt her inner muscles pulse around him. With a shout he came to his own climax.
He clung to her through spasms that bore him up to heaven and held him in a net of stars. The unexpected feeling that flooded him was so intense, so rich, so…humbling, it scarcely seemed real.
Nothing, nothing in his entire life, had ever been like this.
He waited until their breathing calmed, then rolled onto his side, taking her with him. May God forgive him, he would never forget this night.
“Thad?” Her voice trembled. “Is it always like this?”
He opened his mouth, but was unable to speak for a good half minute. “No. It’s never been like this.”
“I am glad,” she whispered. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder. Thad lay still, holding her until her breathing evened out and he knew she was asleep.
His eyes stung, then filled with moisture. God had given him an irreplaceable gift.
And, dammit, it scared the stuffing out of him.
Thad dabbed his biscuit into the remaining egg yolk on his breakfast plate. “Forgot to tell you something last night.”
At the stove frying eggs for Teddy’s breakfast, Leah stilled. A warm blush swept up her neck. Thad had said everything last night, but it hadn’t been in words. Her heart still had not stopped its hiccuping rhythm.
“What did you forget to tell me?”
“About the barn dance next Saturday. I stopped in at Verena’s shop yesterday when I was in town. She reminded me.”
“Verena?”
“Verena Forester. You know, The dressmaker.”
Oh, yes, Leah knew Verena Forester. The woman was noticeably cool every time Leah stopped in for a pattern or a bit of lace. The dressmaker always asked about Thad—how was he? What was he planting this year? She made it very plain that Thad claimed a special place in her heart.
Last week, Leah’s friend Ellie had taken her to tea and told her why. Verena had wanted to marry Thad after his wife died, and that explained at least some of the dressmaker’s rude treatment of her. The rest of it, she knew, was because of her Chinese heritage.
