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She could make out the shape of the bed, four posters against the back wall to her right side. She stood, unable to go any further. This was a bad idea. What was she—mad?
She turned back to the door, and suddenly a hand was over her face, her nose, her mouth, and as a scream lit in her throat.
“Hush now …” he said, holding her against his solid, unmovable body.
She calmed down and then became flustered as he removed his hand and turned her shoulders so she was facing him.
He was naked. All rebukes for scaring her were stuck in her throat. Even in the dark, even with the embers sparking into submission in the fireplace at his back, she could see that he was completely naked and that, like a stallion ready to mount a mare, he was certainly hung.
She sucked in air, quickly. She had to breathe, or she was going to pass out. She had been insane to think this was something she could do. What was she doing here?
“Is there something, beauty, I can help you with?” His voice was low and husky and traveled through her veins right up to her brain and blasted all coherent thought and speech into oblivion.
She shook her head because she couldn’t speak.
“No? And yet, here you are,” he answered, his voice a primal sound, the sound of a predator who had latched onto its prey and didn’t mean to let go. He was savoring the moment. That single moment before the kill, she thought.
Did she want to be that prey? Was she that prey already? No. She was the one who had come for him. She was the hunter … or at least had been.
“I … I …” she whispered.
“I know,” he answered and had his arms around her as he bent and covered her mouth with his own.
His kiss exploded inside her, and she morphed into someone wild with abandon. She molded herself to him. She kissed him back with a fever that clearly said she knew what she was doing. She wanted this. No doubts—they had been expelled as his velvet tongue joined with hers.
He had her pressed up against the door as his kiss turned into many, as his kisses traveled over her neck, as he dove into the neckline of her nightdress and exposed her breast and groaned to lick at her nipple.
She was a tart, she told herself, indeed … and loving every moment of her lapse in morals. Morals? What was wrong with being like this with the man you loved? Nothing. This was just where she wanted to be.
“Aye … I have been wanting you from the moment I clapped eyes on you.” He moaned the words into her ear as his teeth nipped her lobe gently. “You were made for me, just for me. I need you, Felicia, need you more than I can say.” He picked her up then and carried her to the bed to place her down none too gently.
Her nightdress was flung off, and he was on his knees on the bed, looking down at her, his manhood thick and swollen with his desire.
She swallowed. It was one thing to hear vague details of lovemaking from your friends and quite another to execute it in the flesh. He must have had so many experienced women. She would bore him with her innocence, she thought, as she bit her bottom lip and doubts swirled around her brain.
“You pierce my mind and my heart with your exquisite eyes—your innocent eyes,” he said on a low breath. “I am a cad to take you, but unless you pull away, Felicia, I can’t seem to help myself now … now that you are here with me.”
“I am here because it is what I want—have been wanting.” Was that her voice? Were those her words? How had she dared? Her hoyden had gone berserk and was running amok. Her independence was going to cost her, but then, all worthwhile goals were costly. There were consequences, always consequences for one’s actions, and when those actions went against the world’s beliefs, well, then, would she be prepared to pay? Ah, it was more than the heat of the moment that wrenched her answer ‘Yes’; it was her heart.
His mouth closed on hers, and his hands fondled her into a mass of need. She needed, she wanted, and she wasn’t in control any longer as she arched high over the bed in desperate response to his ministrations. His fingers traveled over her nipples, and he groaned, “Your beautiful, full breasts drive me mad, my beautiful girl, my sweetness.” He bent his head and began suckling there, and she felt a build-up of tension throughout her body creating an arrow of desire that shot straight between her thighs and made her wriggle and press herself into his free hand, which had cupped her there.
He moved her cleft with that cupped hand in a way that made mewling sounds escape her lips. She was no longer thinking. All thoughts were gone as his touch turned her into a red-hot mass of need, need of him, of his touch, his licking at her nipples, his finger … slipping into her in a way she had never imagined possible.
His kisses were on the move, down her belly, where he nipped here and there and made her body convulse towards him. He sounded feral when he told her, “You are hot, wet, and ready for me, love, and your body—so responsive. I want you, sweetheart … want you.”
She couldn’t speak even if she knew what to say. She wanted him, yes, more than anything, she wanted this.
He had her knees bent up, moving her like a doll in his hands, and then, all at once, she felt a moment of fear as he bent his head between her thighs and she felt his teeth nip at her there.
Oh—oh my. She couldn’t make more than animal sounds as his finger joined his teeth and his tongue and turned her into a moaning, wiggling, aching, and crave-filled, flesh and blood woman.
He pulled away after a few moments and straddled her so that his huge, throbbing rod rested on her belly, and he took her hand and said, “This … is for you, love.” Then he moved her hand gently over it.
Oh, but she loved the magic feel of him in her hand. She had grown up with horses and had seen stallions mate with mares. There were things she knew about because a child always learns a great deal by watching. Still, she had never expected this all-consuming need to touch … to stroke, to hold.
It was what she did; she followed his lead, allowed him to take control of her fingers, and then he took his hand away as hers closed around his pulsating shaft. She wanted more stroking, more touching … more!
And then he gave it to her as he placed the tip of his huge shaft at her cleft and rubbed there. He made a hard sound in his throat as he positioned himself and whispered to her, “Now, Felicia, now.”
