But a moment later he was back at her feet, and to her shock she could see every lovely bare inch of him exposed to her view. He was beautiful, all lean muscle. A trail of pale hair dusted his chest, down across his stomach, and to that part of him that was swollen and straining toward her. She swallowed hard, focusing on his face instead, suddenly nervous. But the ache in her had not gone away at the sight of him aroused and ready for her. It had only grown. She needed his arms about her, his lips on hers again, more than she needed anything.
She reached out for him. Instead of coming to her, however, he leaned down. She gasped as he reached up under her shift, his warm fingers on her legs, slowly rolling her fine silk stockings down over calf, heel, toes. And then, to her shock, he took the hem of her shift in his teeth. He began to pull it up, inch by inch. Her breathing grew ragged and she bit her lip to keep from moaning as he worked his way up slowly, baring every bit of her.
In one swift move his hands joined his teeth and the shift was gone, up and over her head. Caleb held himself above her for a time, looking down at her naked body, pale in the moonlight. Imogen gripped the blankets in her hands, stunned at the raw need she saw on his face. And then he growled low in his throat and covered her body with his own.
Imogen shuddered at the feel of his skin on hers. Nothing was between them now, not even a breath of air. Never did she think such a sensation existed. Surely nothing could feel better than this.
He proved her wrong in the next moment.
“Imogen,” he groaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His lips worked their way down her throat, across her chest and to her straining breasts. Imogen’s breath caught in her throat, her back arching toward his questing mouth. He claimed her nipple, his mouth hot and moist. She cried out, nearly coming off the bed in her shock.
His hands went to her hips, holding her still beneath his onslaught. And then the fingers of one hand loosened their grip and trailed across her stomach. When he reached between their bodies and touched her, that intimate center of her that she hardly even touched herself, she instinctively clamped her legs together.
“Open for me, Imogen,” he rasped. He pushed at her legs, and she let them fall open to him. His fingers caressed her, swirling over her swollen flesh, making her gasp and writhe beneath him. Her hands gripped his shoulders for support.
When his finger entered her, her body coiled unbearably. She was so close to something, desperately wanting it.
“Caleb,” she gasped, a plea.
“You’re so ready for me.” He raised his head then and looked down at her. His eyes were almost wild from desire. But he paused.
“Imogen,” he said, his voice low and taut as the string of a bow, “if you want me to stop, you have to tell me now. There is no turning back after this.”
She gazed up at him, at the torture he was putting himself through to make certain she understood. He would stop this very moment if she asked him to. She knew it with every bit of her. She would still be a virgin, would still have her honor.
But she didn’t want him to stop. If he stopped now, she felt she would break into a million pieces and would never be able to put herself together again. She could no more leave him than stop breathing.
“Don’t stop, Caleb,” she whispered. “Please.”
He groaned, his body coming down hard and heavy on hers, his mouth claiming her own. His hand left her, and a moment later he was moving between her legs, his lean hips fitting between her thighs. His hands gripped her hips.
Imogen clung to him, her fingers digging into his sweat-slicked back as he poised himself at her entrance. He began to push forward slowly, and she felt an unbearable tightness as he filled her.
He suddenly stopped, seeming to gather himself. And then he surged forward in one smooth thrust.
The breath left her, more from shock than pain. But in the space of a heartbeat it dissolved away, and all that was left behind was sensation. He began to move within her, and the strange tension she felt before came back tenfold.
She threw her head back, gasping. Her feet dug into the mattress, her hips moving with his. She was aware of his breath, ragged in her ear.
“That’s right, love,” he rasped. “Let it come.”
His movements quickened. The tension became a nearly unbearable ache.
“Caleb, please!” she cried, not understanding what she was asking for.
“Imogen,” he groaned.
And then she shattered. Caleb’s mouth covered hers as she cried out. Golden stars burst behind her closed lids, her every muscle taut, her breath strangling in her throat. As she began to float back to earth she felt him tense, give one final thrust. She captured his own shout of completion as he had done for her, her limbs cradling him as he collapsed atop her.
And then there was only a wonderful lethargy, and peace, and happiness as her eyes shut and she drifted off in his arms.
Chapter 15
Imogen awoke slowly, aware of a wonderful contentment filling her. Caleb lay next to her, his strong arm cradling her to his side. Her head rested on his chest, and his heartbeat sounded steadily in her ear. The faint sound of music drifted to her. There was a soft white sheet pulled up over them, and she realized Caleb must have tucked them both in. It was a heavenly thought that made her smile. She sighed softly, happily, her arm stealing about his waist and holding him tightly.
“I’ll go to London tomorrow for a special license,” he murmured, his voice rumbling in her ear.
Her eyes flew open. A feeling of dread began to uncurl in her belly. “Special license?”
