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He tortured her, lingering until she screamed again, and when she thought he'd show mercy he only moved to lavish attention on the other breast. Emma dug her fingers into his scalp until he grunted and finally raised his head.
"Is there something I can help you with, Lady Denmore?"
"Yes, you bastard."
"That hardly smacks of contrition."
"I'm sorry!" she cried too late. Hart had already wrapped his hands around her wrists to hold them down. He bent back to his task, and Emma was helpless to resist. But something about his strength against her arms .. .
Every nerve in her body seemed to swell to tautness. Her nipples were hard peaks of sensation, her sex jumped when she rubbed against his hip. And all the while, she pushed back at his grip and found that her struggles couldn't move him an inch.
His mouth finally slid lower, trailing fire down her abdomen, then her belly. His tongue swirled around her navel, then lower. Emma held her breath until she couldn't stand it anymore, then she began to beg.
"Please, please." She felt his breath tease the skin of her belly. "Oh, please," as his chin nuzzled the dark hair of her sex.
His hands gripped harder, shooting sparks of pleasure into her blood, then finally, he kissed her there. Right there where she wanted him. He dragged his tongue over her wetness as Emma raised her knees and tugged against his hold.
She cried out, urging him on. She only needed a few seconds of his skilled attention . . . just a moment.
And then his hot mouth was moving on, kissing her inner thigh, biting gently at the tendon before he sucked the hurt away.
"No!" Emma screamed. "Please, Hart. Please!'
"What are you begging for, Emma?"
"Your "Mm." But he was moving lower, tugging her arms down to her hips, moving away from what she needed. His mouth touched the side of her knee before she snapped.
"I need you, Hart. Please. You inside me. Please. I want. . ."
She was rewarded quickly. His body moved up, his mouth dragging promises over her skin. His fingers curled tighter around her bones and she whimpered as she dug her heels into the bed.
"I'm sorry for what I did," she moaned, meaning every word.
"I'm sorry." He'd moved too high now, he was rising above her instead of sinking down, but she didn't care. She'd started telling the truth and now she couldn't stop.
"You're the only one, Hart. The only one I've ever wanted. I need you. Please"
He let go of her wrists and lay upon her, hands framing her face for a deep, devastating kiss. Then his hand was skimming down her belly as he raised up, his fingers were stroking her. She was sobbing.
She felt the blunt head of his erection then, nudged against her sex. "Please, Hart. I feel so . . . I need you inside, filling me."
He silenced her with a kiss as he eased inside her. Her shocked cry was swallowed in his moan as her body stretched to take him. Emma sucked in a sharp breath against the pain; she dug her fingers into his shoulders and tried to hide her distress. But she was so ready for him, she wanted him so much, and she found the pain fading to a faint burn before her tears had a chance to fall.
She blinked them back as Hart eased out only to slide deeper still.
"Emma, my God. You're . . ."
Fear spiked through her, disintegrating all other feeling for a brief, lonely moment.
His words whispered over her neck. "You're so tight. So damn hot around me."
He began to move within her and her fear was gone. Everything was gone. Everything but the over-whelming knowledge that his flesh was filling her, stretching her tight, rubbing and sliding in a slow, steady motion.
It felt so good, so good, just what she'd always wanted, and Emma realized she'd breathed the words aloud and Hart was shuddering over her. She shifted and found deeper pleasure in that, and when she wrapped her legs around him and pressed her heels to his thighs, Hart rubbed against something inside her that made her groan for more.
He gave her more, and he was whispering, murmuring words that pulled her further into a deep chasm. Words of promise and threat, tender words mixed up with the wickedest things she'd ever heard. Vile, sweet predictions of what they'd do together. And Emma was floating in a dark sea, struggling, reaching for the darkest, deepest part.
All her nerves, muscles, skin—everything—pulled tight as his shaft stroked faster.
