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“Not too sore, my lord.” She’d done little else but think of being touched again. “But I—I’m afraid,” she blurted.

"I suspected." He stroked her thigh and up her hip, along her ribs. "Most virgins are. Even ones who've tasted a bit of debauchery." Strong fingers slid into her hair, gripping at the base of her neck to hold her still while his lips ravaged her throat. "Tell me what's scaring you, Mia."

She tilted her chin higher, staring at but not quite seeing the ceiling. Her arm circled his shoulders, her only anchor to keep her from falling further, but God could his lips steal every breath from her... “I c—cannot. N—not when you’re ... doing that.”

He raised his head but didn't let go of her. "Voice the fear. Don't try to think your way around it."

“I like when you touch me. When you make me ... feel. But it is wonderful a—and if it hurts tonight ... I’m afraid it won’t feel like this again.”

"Is that all?" He chuckled, and his long fingers danced down between her thighs. "It'll only hurt once. Maybe twice, if you're bruised. Then it will all feel like this again." He nuzzled her earlobe. "You just have to decide to trust me. Can you do that?"

“Yes.” A vow easily made when his fingers were making her forget an entire world existed beyond their bed.

“Say it, angel.”

“I trust you, Nicholas. More than is wise.” She parted her legs, inviting him to continue. To never stop. He kept going until she was at the brink, breasts heaving, aching...

His hand abandoned her overheated skin, but the other stayed anchored in her hair. "Take off the shift. Show me my beautiful prize."

She parted her lips, almost begging him to do that thing that made her tremble. But a breath later, she remembered her own promise. One she’d made twice now...

Licking her lips, she began bunching her shift, lifting it higher. He released her hair just long enough to allow her to lift it over her head, and dropped it beside them. “I hope my lord is pleased.”

"Very." His eyes darkened before he reclaimed her lips in a rough kiss. His hands roamed her body freely now, as if memorizing her form. His touch felt lighter, but no less effective when he attended to her clit. Until she was so, so close ... and he pulled back. Again. Though when his arm slid under her legs and lifted, she had some idea of what was happening. Vaguely.

Grasping his shoulder, she buried her face against the nape of his neck, breathing him in. And wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled. She dared to kiss his pulse point, her tongue barely testing, tracing a short line. At least that was her intention. Moaning against his skin, she continued higher, kissing his chin, his jaw, until she nipped at his ear.

"Quick study." His voice was rougher, deeper. She felt the downward motion, the cool linen covers against her backside, as Nicholas set her down, insinuating himself between her legs. "Lay back, and keep your eyes on me, angel.”

She didn’t want to. Right now, all she wanted was to keep exploring his body with her lips. But Amy knew better than to argue. Slowly, she lay back, drinking in the sight of him leaning over her. He’d always been handsome, but now no man alive could hold a candle to him. “Like this, my lord?”

"Exactly." He put one heavy hand on her hip, the other undoing the fall of his trousers, and freeing the erection that had stolen her breath on their previous night together. Though now she was seeing it instead of just feeling...

Her knowledge of the male form, to this point, extended only to statues. Obviously, the Romans had never seen anyone like Nicholas. She stared, transfixed, and propped herself up on her elbows. “I, uh, I see now why it’s going to hurt.”

"I'll try to be ... quick. I can't promise gentility." He leaned over her, taking her lips as his hard, thick erection pushed against her sex. "Just relax and watch me." Nicholas' hold on her hip tightened, and he pressed forward ... inward. “Eyes on me. Good girl.”

He kissed her, and her breath stopped.

It didn’t feel bad. At first. The pressure kept growing, more and more uncomfortable with every heartbeat until the sting grew sharp, the fullness too much. Her body instinctively tried to pull back, but he kept pushing forward. Amy clamped her teeth hard, locking a cry behind them. But he kept coming.

“Oh!” She shifted beneath him, seeking an angle to relieve the ache, but failing at each turn. “You’re ... you’re too big.”

"Shh." He stilled, but he wouldn't pull back—in fact, he pinned her down, so she could barely squirm, let alone free herself. "Breathe, mia dolcezza. Breathe. Trust me."

She had no choice. Breathing was all she could do beneath his weight. And with each breath, listen to his endearments until the worst of the pain ebbed and the gravity of what was happening sank in. He was inside her. She was his. He’d taken her honor, her virginity, her money—all part of the deal. Did he have to take my heart as well? Amy closed her eyes, exhaling to ward off the threatening tears.

“Trust me, little angel—”

“I do.”

"Then be still, let me take care of you." He began moving again, drawing back. A delirious moment of hope. It was over. Until he surged inexorably forward. His hypnotic eyes held her in thrall as his hips broke her apart. Surely. Surely he would stop. Finish. He was breaking her...

Then the sparks of pleasure from her clit as he started stroking again, playing with her. As if he wasn’t killing her. The pain. The pleasure. Then the pain again, but ... it wasn’t...

Amy moaned, throwing her head back. Another thrust, this one feeling perfect. Overwhelming. Right. She tightened around him. “Nicholas!”

"There you go. Like that." Nicholas's teeth raked against her throat. "You're made for this, Mia. To be taken. Pleasured..." His attentions moved down to her breasts. His hands were hot and heavy restraints, keeping her in place. "Take it, Mia. Come apart for your lord."