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She looked up. He was on the ground, too, crawling toward her, the black mask hidden in the shadows. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it to one side, his chest rising and falling from the chase. The damp air was causing his fair hair to curl wildly around his head—an angel’s halo.
Only he was no angel.
As if in agreement there was a deep rumble of thunder, and then the heavens opened. Rain came down, heavy and soaking, dripping through the trees and falling on her face as she lay gazing upward.
Breathlessly she began to laugh.
He grinned down at her, water dripping from his hair and trickling down the mask. His shirt clung to his broad shoulders in wet patches, and he pulled it over his head and flung it aside with the jacket. His skin glowed palely, muscles rippling as he knelt at her side.
She desired this man as she had never thought to desire any man, and as she looked at him her mind became crystal-clear. Lord Appleby planned to marry her, and he’d already ruined her reputation. Even if she finally escaped his clutches, it was doubtful a respectable gentleman would ever propose to her now—she was not naïve enough to believe all could be mended. But she could still win. By giving herself to the highwayman, at least she would deny Appleby the pleasure of taking her maidenhead. And at least she would have made her own choice as to who would be her first lover.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
“Sparrow,” he groaned, and, bending his head, obeyed.
The combination of storm and man was exciting, as if she were caught up in something stark and primeval, where civilized behavior had no place. At this moment anything was possible. The past and the future ceased to exist, and there was only here and now.
His kisses made her ache, and she helped him unbutton her bodice, as eager as he to have his mouth and hands upon her. At the first touch she knew this time it wasn’t going to be enough. He was right; they must consummate this passion between them. And if there was a cost, then she would worry about it later.
He gathered her breasts into his hands, and they felt heavy and swollen, so sensitive when he brushed her nipples, and then bent to suckle upon them, that she made little sounds of want. Such pleasure. Antoinette sighed, fingers tangling in his hair, and he lifted his head and smiled into her eyes. Their mouths fused, tongues mating, and he rested his weight lightly upon her.
She felt his hand tugging up her skirts and petticoats, and she wound her legs around his as best she could, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
Not for him, either.
He moved away and sat staring down at her, enjoying the sight of her dishabille and her mouth swollen from his kisses. Then, with a wicked smile, he began to work on her fastenings once more. The bodice was soon removed; the long, tight sleeves came free with a sharp tug or two. Her skirts and petticoats were more difficult, but he freed her, and then slid her stockings down over her legs slowly and with minute attention, before untying the waist of her drawers and slipping them off.
She was naked.
As Antoinette lay before him, letting him look at what no other man had looked upon before, she wondered at herself. She’d always expected to feel embarrassed at such a moment, self-conscious in regard to her shortcomings, but she wasn’t. Instead the expression on his face made her very aware of her sensual beauty. She felt confident and feminine, and in control of her own destiny.
He brushed the curls between her thighs with his fingertips and smiled when she gasped softly. He began to unbutton his trousers, his smile broadening at her rapt attention. His cock sprang free, rising up eagerly. She reached out toward him, but he caught her fingers in his and instead raised them to his lips.
“You’re too clever with these little hands. I’ll lose control,” he said. “I don’t want to make love to you like a lusty youth with no finesse, Antoinette. I want to pleasure you as you’ve never been pleasured before.”
He began to kiss her again, and she lost herself in his slow, deep caresses. Soon he lay down on top of her, and his body molded itself to hers, his skin hot and hard where hers was soft. His thighs opened hers, and she felt his member press against her core. Antoinette went still, quivering.
“I can feel you,” he murmured, bending to nip at her lips. “So warm and wet and ready. Are you ready, Antoinette?”
“Yes.” She had never been so ready for anything in her life.
He pushed inside some more, then withdrew, slowly, the stem of his manhood teasing her aching bud. That familiar tension was building inside her, clenching in her lower belly and making her thighs tremble. She arched up against him, knowing she needed more from him, but he held her hips steady, refusing to allow it. His member slid inside her again, and he groaned into her mouth.
“You’re mine, all mine…”
“Yes, yes, all yours.”
She felt as if she had a fever, trembling and aching and delirious. If he didn’t bring her to the peak she so desired this time, she’d scream, she told herself. He slid deeper, filling her, and her body was able to accommodate him perfectly. She didn’t want him to withdraw, tightening about him to hold him inside.
Beneath her fingers she could feel the warm, damp skin of his back, and she reveled in the touch and smell of him. Everything combined to increase her desire. The way the tips of her breasts brushed against the hair on his chest, the movement of his muscular thighs within hers, the weight of his body, which could have been frightening and claustrophobic and dangerous, and yet now felt almost protective.
With a deep breath he withdrew again, every muscle rigid with the need to control his own pleasure. “Oh,” she wailed, “don’t stop.”
“I want to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before,” he said, his jaw tense. “I want it to be like the first time.”
She managed a laugh. “I promise you it will be.”
He thrust into her again, deeper this time, and a hot, aching pleasure rose up inside her like a tide. He reached down, his fingers finding her swollen bud, and suddenly the tide surged up over her and she cried out in ecstasy. Her body spasmed, squeezing him like a fist as she climaxed.
