Chapter Ten

E ven through the rush of rising excitement, Charles knew he should question this sudden capitulation, this quick switch from distance to desire. He should slow down, declare his intentions, inquire after Sally’s, gain some commitment that her consent meant to her what it meant to him.

But he’d spent endless weeks longing for her, separated from her by a pane of glass he couldn’t shatter. To have her with him now, warm, welcoming, willing, how the devil could he pause and take stock before proceeding?

“Oh, my darling,” he breathed, flinging off his coat and seizing her hand. He brought it to his lips and covered it with kisses, all the time watching desire turn her green eyes to dark jade. Even through the dim light, he read the naked demand in her expression.

Setting one knee on the chaise longue, he straddled her. He slid his arms around her back and brought her up for another kiss. He couldn’t get enough of that luscious mouth, of her tangy flavor. She curled her arms around his neck and responded with the readiness that had shocked him at first and still filled him with surprised gratitude.

The hint of inexperience in her kisses touched his heart, reminded him to cherish her. One day, she’d tell him about her marriage, but now he knew enough to understand that she needed his care as well as his ardor.

“I want you so much,” she murmured, trailing her lips along the side of his face. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Sally…”

“Please.”

He kissed her neck, delighting in how she trembled. Nor was he much steadier. His shaking hands took forever to loosen the lacing at the back of her green dress.

Gently he slid her bodice down to reveal her beautiful breasts. At the sight of her pearled pink nipples, need jolted him like a sharp blow to the belly.

“Oh,” she squeaked and raised her hands to cover herself.

“Let me see,” he said in a choked voice.

For a moment, she hesitated, then slowly she lay back and lowered her hands. With a pride that made his heart crack, she raised her chin.

“Perfect,” he whispered, and stroked and squeezed until she squirmed with longing.

When he took one pebbled nipple between his lips and flicked his tongue across it, she cried out and buried her hand in his hair. The rhythm her fingertips set up against his scalp matched the ravenous beat of his blood.

Dear God above, he had to have her.

He slid his hand under her skirts and found her skin. Warm. Smooth. He pushed the loose drawers up until he could slip his hand between her legs, stroking her through the frail lawn. She was wet and aroused. After doubting that she wanted him at all, he loved that she couldn’t hide her swift response. The heady scent of her arousal threatened to send him mad.

With sudden ruthlessness, he rose and knelt between her legs. He shoved up her skirts and reached down to rip her drawers, revealing her to his avid eyes. Light brown curls, glistening with proof of her need. The pale plain of her stomach with its sweet little navel.

She was slender and graceful with long dancer’s legs. His imagination hadn’t come close to picturing how beautiful she was under her clothes.

Unable to resist temptation, he bowed his head and tilted her hips. He buried his mouth in that satiny cleft, tasting her intimately and finding her sweeter than honey.

She stiffened and gasped in shock, but he soon had her sighing and undulating against him. When he worked his tongue against her center, she gave a cracked cry and grasped his shoulders. She quivered against his seeking mouth before on another cry, she reached her climax. He lapped at her as she floated down from the heights, then raised his head to stare into her face.

Sally was flushed, and her features were soft with the aftermath of pleasure. But he couldn’t mistake the surprise in her eyes.

“What…what was that?”

Hell, what a damned clumsy brute her husband must have been.

As Charles smiled, her salty taste was rich on his tongue. “You liked it?”

“It made me feel wicked.” Her voice was husky.

“But you liked it?”

Her blush intensified. “You know I did.”

“Good.” He placed a kiss on one satiny white thigh. Then he sat up to unbutton his breeches. As his heart raced with rapacious anticipation, he fumbled with the uncooperative fastenings.

The moment he saw her, he’d wanted her, come to love her not long after that. She’d put him through hell since. Having her sprawled before him, panting as she quivered after her first climax, beggared his wildest dreams.

Her passion-darkened gaze settled where his cock stood out from his breeches. “Dear Lord above,” she whispered and lifted her hand.

He braced for her caress, but shyness caught her at the last moment.

“Touch me,” Charles grated out, catching her hand and placing it on him.

Heat from the contact blasted through him and threatened his precarious control. He clenched his teeth and fought the urge to lose himself in her hand.

Her fingers trembled under his, but he saw fascination in her face, as she instinctively curled into a fist around him.

Another thundering shudder of heat. He closed his eyes as she tentatively shifted up toward the sensitive tip.

“Am I…am I hurting you?” she asked unsteadily, stroking down again. Thank God, without releasing him.

“No.” Speaking was damned difficult when the fireworks shooting through his head were fit to rival the damned Battle of Waterloo. “Harder.”

She firmed her grip and moved her hand, finding her own rhythm after a few false starts that nearly took the top of his head off. Her unskilled caresses threatened to incinerate him to smoking shards.

He caught her spread thighs as if clinging to a precipice, and let her have her way. The pleasure verged on unbearable torment. It would be so easy – safer –to spill into her fist. But this first time, there was no way in Hades he’d miss being inside her.

When she brushed her thumb across the damp head, he reached the limit of his restraint. Roughly he snatched at her hand, but the kiss he placed on her knuckles was gentle. Her skin had caught his musk. “I can’t wait a second longer.”

Sally’s eyes deepened, and her lips parted. “Charles…”

“I love to hear you say my name.” He leaned in and kissed her with open-mouthed hunger. She hooked her hands over his shoulders and fitted her body to his.

He ripped at his neck cloth, flinging it to the floor. A low sound of feminine approval emerged from her throat. With greedy hands, she pushed aside his shirt, and he groaned as her palms flattened over the bare skin of his chest.

When she placed a kiss between his nipples, the sweetness squeezed his heart. He twined his hand in her tumble of hair and held her still for another voracious kiss.

With his other hand, he stroked her, reveling in her liquid response. The scent of arousal thickening the air teased him with the promise of looming fulfillment.

“Oh, that’s good,” Sally sighed, angling toward his caresses.

When she curled her arms across his back, pulling him down to her, he could delay no longer. Rising on one arm so he could watch every second of this transcendent consummation, he pressed into her.

He met slippery heat and glorious resistance. Then with a deep groan of triumph, he slid into her as if they were born to join together.

She released a surprised gasp and tightened around him. The sensation threatened his threadbare control, but he tensed every muscle against release.

He meant above all to pleasure her. Magnificent as this union was for him, he burned to show Sally what heights a woman could reach with a skilled and considerate lover.

He met her eyes, glassy like the ocean on a sultry summer day. Then on a hard kiss, he shifted deeper. She gave a faint, broken cry and arched into him. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back, as if the world reeled for her, too.

Blindness descended on Charles, and he hurtled into an inferno of unfettered passion. Gripped by purely animal instinct, he withdrew. Then he pushed forward, claiming her again and luxuriating in the grip of her body.

On a husky moan, she raised her knees higher, changing the angle. He shifted to meet her and felt her open in marvelous welcome. She shoved up his shirt, so her fingernails scored his back. The sting added to the riot of sensations assaulting him. He grunted and rose on his arms, taking her with a ruthless ardor that she greeted with avid delight.

But even while his primitive self commanded his actions, he never forgot what this incandescent joining meant.

Sally was his. She was his at last. And the knowledge lit his world with golden fire.