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“I’m…not afraid, it’s just that—”
“Yes, I know.” He shifted position; she felt him rest on his right side and elbow, his left arm lying across her body. He kissed her brow, then her closed eyelids, then the sensitive spot below her ear, his breath a warm caress. “Celia love, open your eyes. You can look at me, can’t you?”
“Yes, of course I can, but I’m not sure I should.”
She heard him laugh softly. His finger moved along her cheek, then over her lips. “Contrary little vixen. I think it’s your prickly nature that intrigues me most.”
Her eyes opened. “Liar.”
“Yes, that was a gross exaggeration. I find this most intriguing…” His hand moved beneath velvet to shape her breast, his palm covering it with heat. “And this…” Slowly drawing his hand over her ribs, he caressed the flat plane of her belly and moved even lower, his fingers tugging gently at the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs. “So lovely! I knew your skin would be this soft.…”
Her heart pounded fiercely as he stroked her, and the spark he’d ignited earlier flared again, beating heat through her veins as his fingers worked their clever magic and he whispered to her how beautiful she was, and how he’d wanted her from the moment she had insulted him.
“It was obvious you’re more perceptive than most,” he murmured lazily as he slid his finger over damp curls and into her quivering flesh. “How could I resist you?”
“My lord—”
“Colter. It’s less formal, don’t you think, love?”
Oh God, yes, of course it was. And this was definitely an informal occasion, she thought a bit wildly, torn between the driving need for him to continue and the warning voice in the back of her brain that told her she’d gone too far now. At least he seemed to know what he was doing, how to calm her fears and doubts, his tone gentle and his hands so skillful. Despite his previous roughness, and the times she’d thought him so dangerous, he was only gentle now, patient with her as he coaxed a response from her body and her soul.
“Ah, no, love,” he murmured when he moved over her and she instinctively closed her legs against him. “This is no time for doubts. Not now, when we’ve come so far. Open for me…yes, like that, like that…it’s not so bad, is it?”
“No…no, but—I can’t think when you do that!”
“This isn’t the time for thinking. Just let me make you feel…”
He kissed her again, until at last she began to relax and kiss him back. His knees were between her thighs, firm pressure keeping them apart. Somehow his hands were on her wrists, pressing her arms into the pillows over her head as he rested his body against hers for a moment. He was swollen and hard, nudging into the vee of her legs, hot and impatient, and Celia caught her breath.
This was all so instinctive, the parting of her legs, the heavy pressure of his penetration and her answering lift into the burn, but she still wasn’t prepared for the swift forward thrust of his final invasion. A cry escaped her as her body contorted, and she heard his startled curse against her ear.
“Christ!” He drew back slightly, his body still imbedded inside her, and swore again. “Jesus, what the hell is this?”
Panting a little from the pain, she focused on his face above hers, dark and angry and incredulous as he stared down at her.
“You’re a damn virgin,” he said when she didn’t reply at once. “You should have told me.”
“Would it have made any difference?”
“Of course it would. I’m not in the habit of ravishing innocent females.”
“I beg to differ,” she murmured. “It seems that you have formed a habit of it after all.”
Silence greeted her reply, and after a moment, he blew out a harsh breath. “So it seems. Christ above, Celia, you should have warned me.”
“Yes, I suppose I should have.”
“An understatement.” Another pause, then he laughed softly, a resigned sound. “I’m sure I’ll regret this, but since the damage is already done…”
He’d freed her arms, and now he moved his hands over her breasts in a leisurely glide, then bent to take first one, then the other nipple into his mouth, sucking gently until she began to writhe beneath him, her breathing swift and labored. The first discomfort had faded to a dull ache and was now replaced with a growing anticipation, the hard knot inside her spreading into heated response. She felt him grow harder, a h
eavy fullness inside her, but he still didn’t move.
“Put your arms around me, love,” he murmured when she moaned softly, and when she did, he began at last to move. It was a harsh friction, abrasive on still tender flesh, but not uncomfortable. His movements quickened, and gradually she began to meet his thrusts, matching his pace as the urgency grew hotter and higher. The rhythm of his breathing and thrusting increased until he gave a final hard thrust and a guttural groan, and abruptly withdrew. He held her fiercely, crushing her into the velvet with his weight, his rigid member prodding her belly. There was a peculiar throb as he gave a harsh groan, then he was still and heavy atop her as his breathing gradually slowed.
There was none of the singing elation of earlier, for her body was still unaccustomed to the intrusion, but she knew that the next time would be different. God, would there be a next time? Oh, this was all so confusing, and she felt so uncertain—
He caught her hand and rolled to one side, tucking her against him. “As tempted as I am to keep you with me all night, love,” he said against her hair, “there’s no reason to risk it. It would be impossible to explain. I find it impossible to explain to myself, and don’t exactly relish the thought of having to explain to your cousin. Do you understand?”
