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'Darling.' His voice was husky as he stroked the hair back from her face and trailed his fingers down the curve of her cheek and jaw to the vulnerable line of her throat. She felt her pulse leap uncontrollably as he caressed her. Felt a sharp, heated excitement uncoiling deep within her.
He kissed her again as his hands lingered, sliding under the ribbon straps of her gown and hooking them slowly down from her shoulders. The loosened fabric fell away, baring her to the waist.
Nick raised his head and looked down at her, the grey eyes brilliant and intense. He began to touch her again, to stroke the delicate scented mounds he'd uncovered, teasing their rosy crests with the tips of his fingers, urging them into hard, aching pleasure.
She moved restlessly, feeling her breathing change and catch in her throat as his lips followed the path of his hands. His mouth closed on her nipple, suckling it gently, tantalising it to sweet agony with the flicker of his tongue.
She heard herself moan softly, her body arching upwards in mute longing.
'Yes, darling,' he whispered. 'Yes.' He threw back the covers, tossing them to the end of the bed, and his hands moved down her body, freeing her completely from the folds of her gown. He lifted her, holding her close, letting her discover the abrasive sensuality of his nakedness against hers, as he kissed her again in a fierce, passionate demand that made few allowances for her comparative innocence.
It was as if he recognised the molten need within her. and knew that she did not wish to be spared.
She began to caress his shoulders, her hands urgent as they moved down the muscular length of his back. How long had she wondered how it would be to touch him—imagined how he might touch her?
And now every dream was becoming a physical, sensuous reality.
Cally was feverishly aware of his hand caressing her hip, moving inward to the flat plane of her stomach, then down in slow, languorous demand to the shadowy joining of her thighs. Found her small, startled cry stifled by his mouth as his fingers gently created a passage for this new intimacy—persuaded her, wordlessly, to accept this ultimate exploration of her secret, ungiven self.
She was lost immediately, her shocked body transported to a different dimension, twisting, almost sobbing under the
clever, silken fingertips that were so expertly gliding on the moist inner heat of her at one moment, then, in the next, stroking the tiny hidden bud which was somehow the centre of all the pleasure that had ever been and bringing it to tumescent, irresistible arousal.
She wanted him to stop—she wanted him never to stop.
She realised dazedly that it was as if the last remaining knot of control inside her was being slowly, relentlessly undone. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it. To save herself.
As the final thread parted, she was aware of the first tremors of delight building inexorably within her, and cried out in a kind of fear. Then, suddenly, her whole being was shivering— convulsing in endless sensations of almost agonised rapture. And there was no longer any room for fear.
She could hear herself moaning. Felt each blissful pulsation reverberating in every nerve-ending, every drop of blood that she possessed.
At last, the exquisite savagery tearing her apart began to fade, and as she lay stunned and helpless with delight, her body totally relaxed in the final echoes of rapture. Nick began gently to ease his way into her.
Gasping, she looked up into his taut, absorbed face. The grey eyes were pools of silver as they met hers.
'Am I hurting you?' His voice was quiet, but urgent, and she turned her head in instant negation, still holding his gaze, astonished that it should all seem so simple, and so right. Knowing herself finally claimed, and totally possessed. Amazed at her own capacity to welcome and absorb such awesome strength and potency.
Some undreamed-of female instinct told her to lift her legs and wrap them round his hips, enfolding him. drawing him into her more deeply, and she heard him groan softly in response as he began to move, his rhythm slow and powerful at first, then increasing. And Cally moved with him, her hands grasping his sweat-slicked shoulders, blindly mirroring every driving male thrust.
He said hoarsely, Darling—my sweet angel. She heard the sudden rasp of his changed breathing, then his body shuddered scaldingly into hers.
The silence that followed was profound-—endless. She wondered if he'd fallen asleep. But eventually he moved, lifting himself away from her.
He said softly, 'Are you all right?' and she nodded jerkily, but she wasn't sure that it was true. She'd just had her first experience of sex, and it had been wholly sensational—the stuff that delirium was made of. But Nick would have made sure of that, she told herself, biting her lip. After all, he had a reputation to maintain.
