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“No, and to be honest, I’m not really looking forward to it. I want you and I want to be intimate with you, but I don’t expect to enjoy the first time.” Her gaze was very direct.
An odd kind of anger shook him. “Damn it, Maddie, if you’re a virgin why didn’t you say so, instead of having that damn physical?”
She looked like a haughty queen. “For one thing, we weren’t married before. Until you became my husband this morning it wasn’t any of your business. For another, you wouldn’t have believed me. You believe me now because there’s no reason for me to lie when you’ll find out the truth for yourself in a few minutes.” She spoke with cool dignity, her head high.
“We were planning to get married.”
“And it could have been called off.”
Reese stared silently at her. Part of him was stunned and elated. No other man had ever had her; she was completely his. He was selfish enough, male enough, primitive enough, to be glad t
he penetration of her maidenhead would be his right. But part of him was disappointed, because this ruled out the night of hungry lovemaking he’d planned; he would have to be a total bastard to be that insensitive to her. She would be too sore and tender for extended loving.
Maybe this was for the best. He’d take her as gently as possible, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, lose his control with her. He wouldn’t let himself drown in her; he would simply consummate the marriage as swiftly and easily as he could and preserve the distance between them. He didn’t want to give in completely to the fierce desire in him, he just wanted to ease himself and keep her in the slot he’d assigned to her. He wanted her too much; she was a threat to him in every way he’d sworn a woman would never be again. As long as he could keep his passion for her under control she wouldn’t be able to breach his defenses, so he would allow himself only a simple mating. He wouldn’t linger over her, feast on her, as he wanted to do.
Madelyn forced herself not to tremble when he walked over to her. It had been nothing less than the bald truth when she’d said she wasn’t looking forward to this first time. Romantically, she wanted a night of rapture. Realistically, she expected much less. All they had shared was one kiss, and Reese was sexually frustrated, his control stretched to the limit. She was going to open her body to a stranger, and she couldn’t help being apprehensive.
He saw the almost imperceptible way she braced herself as he came near, and he slid his hand into her hair. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured. “I’m not going to jump on you like a bull.” He tilted her head up so she had to look at him. His eyes were greener than she’d ever seen them before. “I can make it good for you, baby.”
She swallowed. “I’d rather you didn’t try, I think, not this time. I’m too nervous, and it might not work, and then I’d be disappointed. Just do it and get it over with.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “That’s the last thing a woman should ever say to a man.” It was also a measure of her fear. “The slower I am, the better it will be for you.”
“Unless I have a nervous breakdown in the middle of it.”
She wasn’t joking. He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, feeling the softness of it. It was beginning to make sense. A woman who reached the age of twenty-eight still a virgin had to have a strong sense of reserve about being intimate with a man. The way she’d kissed him had set him on fire, but this final step wasn’t one she took easily. She preferred to gradually get used to this powerful new intimacy, rather than throw herself totally into the experience expecting stars and fireworks.
He picked her up and put her on the bed, then turned out all the lights except for one lamp. Madelyn would have preferred total darkness but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t stop staring when he stripped off his jeans and got into bed with her. She had seen male nudity before: babies and little boys, men in clinical magazines. She knew how the male body functioned. But she had never before seen a fully aroused man, and Reese was definitely that. She lost her hope for nothing worse than discomfort.
He was a big man. He leaned over her, and she felt totally dwarfed by the width of his chest and shoulders, the muscled power of his body. She could barely breathe, her lungs pumping desperately for quick, shallow gasps. By her own will and actions she had brought herself to this, placed herself in bed with a man she didn’t know.
He slid his hand under her nightgown and up her thigh, his hard, warm palm shocking on her bare skin. The nightgown was pulled upward by his action, steadily baring more and more of her body until the gown was around her waist and she lay exposed to him. She closed her eyes tightly, wondering if she could go through with this.
He pulled the nightgown completely off. She shivered as she felt him against every inch of her bare body. “It won’t be horrible,” he murmured as he brushed her lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll make certain of it.” Then she felt him close his mouth on her nipple, and the incredible heat and pressure made her moan. She kept her eyes closed as he stroked and fondled her body until gradually the tension eased and she was pliable under his hands.
Her senses couldn’t reach fever pitch. She was too tired and nervous. He slid his hand between her legs and she jumped, her body tensing again even though she parted her thighs and allowed him the intimacy. His long fingers gently parted and stroked, probed to find both the degree of her readiness and the strength of her virginity. When his finger slid into her she flinched and turned her head against his shoulder.
“Shh, it’s all right,” he murmured soothingly. He stretched to reach the bedside table and opened the top drawer to retrieve the tube of lubricant he had put in there earlier. She flinched again at the cool slickness of it as his finger entered her once more and moved gently back and forth.
Her heart was slamming so hard against her ribs that she thought she might be sick. He mounted her, his muscled thighs spreading hers wide, and her eyes flew open in quick panic. She subdued the fear, forcing herself to relax as much as possible. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you wanted it to be better than this.”
He rubbed his lips over hers, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt his hips lift and his hardness begin to probe her. “I wish it were better for you,” he said in a low, taut voice. “But I’m glad you’re a virgin, that this first time is mine.” Then he started entering her.
She couldn’t prevent the tears that scalded her eyes and ran down her temples. He was as gentle as possible, but she didn’t accept him easily. The stretching and penetration of her body was a burning pain, and the rhythmic motions of his body only added to it. The only thing that made it bearable for her was, perversely, the very intimacy of having her body so deeply invaded by the man she loved. She was shattered by how primitively natural it was to give herself to him and let him find pleasure within her. Beyond the pain was a growing warmth that promised much more.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE ALARM WENT off at four-thirty. She felt him stretch beside her and reach out to shut off the insistent buzzing. Then he sat up, yawning, and turned on the lamp. She blinked at the sudden bright light.
Unconcernedly naked, he went into the bathroom. Madelyn used the privacy to bound out of bed and scramble into her clothes. She was just stepping into her jeans when he came out to begin dressing. His eyes lingered on her legs as she pulled the jeans up and snapped them.
Surrounded by the early-morning quiet and darkness, with only the one lamp lighting the room, looking at his naked body seemed as intimate as the night before when he had entered her. Warmth surged in her as she realized that intimacy had many facets. It wasn’t just sex, it was being at ease with each other, the daily routine of nakedness and dressing together.
As he dressed, he watched her drag a brush through her hair in several swift strokes, restoring it to casual order. Her slender body bent and swayed with a feminine grace that made it impossible for him to look away. He remembered the way it had felt to be inside her the night before, the tightness and heat, and against his will his loins responded. He couldn’t take her now; she would be too tender. She had cried the night before, and every tear had burned him. He could wait.
She put the brush down and began plumping the pillows. He went over to help her make the bed, but when she threw the tumbled covers back to straighten the bottom sheet, she saw the red stains smeared on the linen and went still.
Reese looked at the stains, too, wondering if she had any pleasure to remember as he had, or if they reminded her only of the pain. He bent and tugged the sheet loose and began stripping the bed. “The next time will be better,” he said, and she gave him such a solemn look that he wanted to hold her in his arms and rock her. If she had wanted it, he could have brought her to pleasure in other ways, but she had made it plain she wasn’t ready for that. He wondered how he would be able to retain his control if she did give him the total freedom of her body. That one, restricted episode of lovemaking hadn’t come close to satisfying the su
