So bold, his Virginian. Such audacity. As his surprise dispersed, he could sense her bravado for what it was, but that didn’t mean her actions and words didn’t have their intended effect upon him. His cock was rigid, and he was desperate to bury himself inside her so deep and hard that they both lost every last splinter of control.
The thin thread of his restraint snapped. She was small and fine-boned, and when he hauled her into his arms he scarcely felt the weight of her. But perhaps too that could be attributed to the rush of desire coursing through him, rendering him all but mindless. Every part of her was curved and luscious. He buried his face in the fragrant curls piled atop her head as he stalked to his bed with her. He’d never again be capable of smelling the scent of orange without going hard.
But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her, the blazing passion scorching the air, and the steps between where he stood and his bed. Six, as it turned out. Barely any distance at all but he rued each step for it stole seconds from him. Seconds where he could be upon her, stripping the rest of her undergarments away, parting her thighs.
Patience fled him.
He laid her upon the bed and allowed his dressing gown to fall away from his body, leaving him naked for her brilliant gaze. He’d never seen a lovelier sight than Clara half-dressed, stockings hugging her shapely calves, her ripe breasts about to spill from the top of her corset, mouth swollen from his kiss, and her gaze traveling all over him like a touch.
The ability to speak deserted him. Every practiced, pretty word vanished from his brain. Here he was, a man who’d fashioned fucking into an art, laid low by an inexperienced scrap of a woman. But then, words weren’t needed now anyway and his pride could bloody well go to the devil.
He joined her on the bed, and she reached for him, bringing him against her, holding him to her with a tenderness that undid him. He found her mouth, slanted his lips over hers, sank inside to drink in the dazzling wet heat of her. Sweet and delicious. He tore her corset cover away, his fingers tangling in the knot of her corset laces until it too was opened and gone. She helped him catch the hem of her chemise and shimmy it up over her body.
Finally. For the first time, he could see her glorious breasts unobstructed. No cloth hindrance now. Full and high, tipped with hard nipples as pink and inviting as her mouth. He lowered his head and took her into his mouth, sucking the peak, nipping it. A throaty moan wrung from her as her fingers tunneled into his hair, her nails raking his scalp.
Ah, Christ. She was a quick learner, his delectable tyro. He cupped her other breast, its yielding heaviness filling his palm as he rubbed the nipple with his thumb. His cock strained against the welcoming cradle of her cunny, reminding him he sought an even greater prize. He kissed his way down her creamy skin, his mouth learning the protrusion of her ribs, the curve of her waist, the hollow of her belly button. He pulled her drawers down over her hips, leaving her stockings in place, and pulled back to survey the bounty before him.
Pale thighs beckoned from above the wicked contrast of her black silk stockings. He swallowed as a fresh onslaught of lust careened through him.
At last, he could manage discourse. “Beautiful.”
A lone word and a vast understatement, torn from him. He skimmed her smooth hips, her warmth seeping into his palms. She was so soft, so perfect, and he needed to have her. To taste her. Gently, he began guiding her legs apart.
“Julian.” His Christian name again, a breathy drawl that sounded half rebuke, half plea. “You mustn’t.”
“I must.” He kissed her hip bone, thinking there was not a single part of her body he didn’t adore. “Relax, little dove.” His hand curved over her knee, still covered in silk, and urged it down to the mattress. She allowed him this liberty, giving in to his coax as her legs fell apart.
His hungry gaze sought the pink, glistening flesh of her cunny before traveling over her entire form. She was spread before him in erotic abandon, not a hair out of place in her coiffure, clad in nothing but her black stockings. He could gaze upon her like this a thousand times and it still wouldn’t be enough.
A strange heaviness shifted in his chest but he ignored it and bowed his head, worshipping her as she deserved. His tongue found the pearl of her pleasure. She tasted sweeter than he’d recalled from the brief hint in his carriage. Her hips jerked beneath him as he used his teeth. He soothed the nip with his tongue, gripped the swells of her arse in his palms, and angled her to him. His tongue played over her, seeking her wetness as though he could somehow take her in, consume her.
His balls tightened, warning him that it had indeed been too long since he’d had a woman. Though he wanted to prolong this torture for both of them, he wasn’t going to come on her thigh like some callow lad. There would be more time for exploring her. A lifetime, unless the person who’d had him beaten senseless had his druthers.
A chill skittered over him as he kissed his way back up her body. He wouldn’t allow ugliness to intrude on them now. This moment, this joining, was theirs alone. Battling demons could bloody well wait for another day. He kissed the place where her shoulder and throat met, dragged his mouth back to her ear. His fingers dipped into her slick, hot folds, building the pleasure he’d begun with his mouth into a crescendo.
“Spend for me, little dove,” he said into her ear.
She clutched at his shoulders, her body writhing and twisting beneath his. He knew that she was close. He tongued the sensitive place behind her ear and she shattered, crying out, shaking with the power of her release. With his free hand, he delved into her immaculate hairstyle, plucking all the pins he could feel until her long curls fell to her shoulders, unimpeded and glorious.
“Yes, love,” he whispered in encouragement when she began a tentative exploration of him. “Touch me. I’m yours.”
Her touch feathered over his chest, down his back to his buttocks. She kissed his cheek, his clenched jaw, his hair. “Wicked man,” she said against his throat. But there was no reproach in her tone. Only wonder mingled with desire.
He knew because he felt an echoing blend of the two himself, along with a fierce and unrepentant need to possess her. He couldn’t wait any longer. He positioned himself between her thighs, pressing his rigid cock to her slick entrance. “It will hurt, little dove. Only the first time.”
She shifted against him, bringing them closer together. “I’m yours,” she said then, repeating his words to her.
And he broke. He thrust into her in one swift stroke, tearing past her barrier. Clara stiffened in his arms and cried out. It took every shred of self-control he possessed to hold still and allow her to adjust to this new invasion. The primal impulses inside him screamed to conquer. She was so damn tight and wet.
He kissed her then, plundering her mouth as he longed to the rest of her, before breaking away. “I’m sorry, love.” Of course he never wanted to hurt her. He’d never taken a virgin before, hadn’t been one himself in more years than he could recall. His body and his mind were at war.
“Don’t be.” She moved, drawing him deeper inside her. Her breath hitched, the only sign of her discomfort. “I want this.”
Her reassurance was all he needed to hear. His hand caught in the heavy skeins of her hair, his fingers tightening instinctively, holding her still so that he could gaze down into her arresting beauty. He was no novice to fucking. Pretty nothings clamored in his mind, so many silver words he could string together and seduce her with. But as he sank deeper inside her tight sheath, his entire being splintered.
Suddenly, he was jagged fragments of himself. The old Julian, the experienced rake, the man who’d earned his keep by fucking his way through theton, dissipated. All he was left with was what she’d fashioned him, a man desperate to claim the only woman he’d ever want.
So many wicked, seductive poetries he could have unleashed. And instead, only one word filled his mind as he thrust into her, giving in to a primitive urge.Mine.He tightened his grip on her hair, making certain she met his gaze, making certain she understood the finality of their union. There would not be a Virginia for her now, not unless they went together. Not from this moment forward. “Mine,” he said.
