When he broke free, she couldn’t answer, not knowing what she should say.Things had already progressed too far, hadn’t they?Her silence weighed down upon his question.
She wanted him.But was the cost too great?
When his hand moved between her legs, she shivered.His fingers moved to the thin drawers, and she flushed, knowing that he could feel the wetness dampening the cloth.She didn’t understand why, and it embarrassed her.
“I know you’re afraid of me.”His voice was deep, the rich timbre making her quiver.
“A little,” she confessed.“I don’t know what to do.”
His hand moved against her woman’s flesh, arousing her.“Surrender to me, Hannah.And let me touch you the way I’ve dreamed of.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that until his thumb rubbed a small nub above her entrance.A harsh cry caught in the back of her throat, and she forced herself not to moan.With a soft rhythm, he nudged it, sending a shock of warmth spiraling into her womb.
Though she wanted to pull away, she couldn’t bring herself to move.
“You’re beautiful, Hannah.”He leaned her back, nuzzling her throat as he increased the rhythm.“If I could, I’d be inside you right now.”
Was that what happened between a man and a woman?She could feel the hard length of his manhood against her inner thigh.The thought of him entering her body conjured a response that made her even wetter.He teased the moisture, using the fabric to abrade her sensitive node.
Hannah fought against the rising wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her.He dipped his finger slightly, caressing the opening of her womanhood.
“I don’t understand,” she admitted, her face burning with discomfort.“How could you be inside me?”
She’d never been taught anything about lovemaking, and she half-wondered if this touching was what husbands and wives did.Somehow, she suspected not.It felt like forbidden temptation to experience such desire.
He brought her hand to his trousers, letting her feel the firm length straining beneath the cloth.She was startled at the thickness of him, the hard ridge of male flesh.
“This part of me would slide deep inside you,” he said gruffly.His hand moved beneath her drawers to her feminine center.He dipped his hand against her sensitive flesh, inserting a single finger to demonstrate.“When you’re wet, it makes it easier for both of us.”
He captured her mouth again, using his fingers to stroke her.Before she could beg him to understand the unfamiliar longings, something unexpected began to break through.Her breathing quickened, her back arching out of instinct.
His hand rubbed faster without warning, crumbling away her inhibitions until a hot, piercing sensation pushed her closer to the edge.Then abruptly, he slowed the pace, deepening the pressure.
“Let go for me, Hannah.”
She was fighting against the maddening heat building up.Her inner thighs were silken, craving more.
Without warning, pleasure erupted within her, making her writhe against his hand.Never had she felt anything like this before, a dizzying madness of heat pulsing until she could only ride out the sensations.He pressed his palm against her center, until she was trembling with aftershocks.
Michael removed his palm, his own breathing uneven.He pressed light kisses over her temple while she clung to him.Nothing could have prepared her for such unexpected ecstasy.
“Would it...have been like that if you’d...made love to me?”she panted.
“Better,” he swore.There was pain in his voice, as though he were fighting off his own frustration.A moment later, he lifted her to her feet, turning the lamp back on.The light speared her eyes, breaking through the spell.
She stood in her underclothes, feeling the shock of reality striking through her.She might as well have been naked before him.He didn’t look at her but reached for his fallen jacket.
Oh, dear God above, what had she done?Why had she fallen into temptation this way?And what could she possibly say to him now?
When Michael turned to face her, all emotions were masked, as if they had done nothing but conversed.The back of her throat ached while her cheeks burned with humiliation.To distract herself, she reached for her own fallen clothing.
“I’ll help you dress, before I leave,” Michael said at last.
Hannah would have refused if she could have managed it herself.She tied the layers of petticoats, unable to face him.Irrational tears stung her eyes, but she kept them at bay.Michael held up her dress and lifted it over her head and arms, helping her to rebutton it.
Despite the deep languor that permeated every inch of her skin, she felt like a piece of crystal teetering on the edge, ready to shatter.
“Are you all right?”
