A Forbidden Love (25 page)

She could feel his heart stomping against her breast. Rhythmic drumbeats sounded in her own ears. With his fingers still diving into her, she felt a sense of urgency building. A tight, thrumming ache swelled in her loins, and a desperate need for release consumed her.

But Anthony wasn’t prepared to give her any relief yet. His fingers plunged into her, slow and steady, and then swift and determined. He continued to alter his tempo.

She moaned against his lips in helpless want. His tongue clashed with hers in a rivaled battle of passions.

What the man could do to her with his body was frightening. But it was also heavenly. And soon he proved just how heavenly it could get. Fingers still driving into her, he let go of her lips, and dropped his head to her breast, where he embraced her nipple, his tongue licking the jutting bud.

She gasped at the feel of his hot lips suckling at her breast. Her lashes fluttered, her head arched back against the pillow, her nails dug harder into his back.

She groaned. It was a loud, demanding sound for appeasement. But his movements only hastened the more vocal she became. His fingers moved swifter, his mouth sucked harder, and she was ready to weep at the desire tearing her up inside.

“Anthony, please,” she begged breathlessly. She didn’t even know what she was asking for, but he, blessedly, realized she needed to be doused, and he was finally ready to comply.

His fingers slipped out of her. She whimpered instantly at the feel of him leaving her when she wasn’t ready for it yet. But he soothed her frustrations with a sound kiss and a reassuring, “It’s not over yet. I’ll give you what you want.”

Anthony shifted his weight. He settled between her throbbing thighs, and what a glorious feeling
that
was, to have his weight anchored so snuggly against her pulsing core.

He unfastened his trousers and lowered them slightly. It was too dark inside the room for her to see anything clearly, but she could definitely
feel
his turgid flesh pressing against her. And she was suddenly alarmed by its size.

Good heavens, was
that
supposed to fit inside her? She didn’t think it would, not without causing her enormous pain.

A sudden apprehension stalked her. She scrunched her eyes in expectation of the discomfort soon to come.

But then, with a warmth that tore at her heart, she heard him whisper, his voice hoarse and strained, “I won’t hurt you, Sabrina. I could never hurt you.”

She believed him. In that moment, she completely trusted him. Her eyes opened and adjusted to the faintly lit room. She looked up to find a pair of dark, smoldering eyes gazing down at her. So tender, so passionate, so needful—of her.

The thunderous thumps of her heart steadied. Her body thrummed on a chord identical to his own. In tune, in hunger, he joined with her.

The pain was minimal compared to the intensity with which she wanted him, and her first cry of shock was attentively stifled by his soothing lips. He didn’t move once he was inside her, giving her tense muscles time to ease, and her body time to grow adjusted to his length, his thickness.

Being one with Anthony was unlike anything she had ever imagined. Soon the heat filled her and he began to stir. It was slow at first. He withdrew from inside her, not fully, but part way. Her legs locked behind him, holding him in place. She wasn’t willing to let the moment end so quickly, not when she was just growing accustomed to it and feeling immense pleasure overtake her senses.

He chuckled softly by her ear. “Trust me,” he said roughly.

She eased her grip, giving him the room he needed to pull partly out of her before he thrust back inside. He did it again. Withdrew halfway and then plunged deep inside her. Then he did it again. And again. Slow and steady at first, he pulled out and thrust back in.

She closed her eyes and moaned softly. Tingling anticipation tickled through her limbs. The tension in her body grew stronger and stronger. She clung to him harder and harder, digging her fingers into his hair. His slow thrusts deepened, quickened. Soon he was moving in and out of her in steady plunges. He was breathing hard against her neck. His back was slick with sweat.

Their bodies moved together in waves, his full girth filling her. The tight, pleasurable knot that had formed within her tightened even more. His rocking thighs rubbed hard against hers, the chafing movement leaving her throbbing and burning inside.

“Anthony,” she gasped between panting breaths.

His movements quickened. Swift, piercing strokes that brought her unbearable pleasure. And then she felt it, her muscles contracting around him in quick succession. There was a pulsating wave of glorious gratification that coursed through her veins, and she cried out at the intensity of what she was feeling. Anthony let out a fierce groan of his own soon after, and thrust hard into her.

She was breathing loudly. They both were. Anthony was slumped against her, though he braced his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, his body still joined with hers.

She loosened her tight hold on him, feeling dizzying blissful. In an idle gesture, she stroked his damp hair, smoothing back the tousled curls. She just wanted to be near him. To enjoy the feel of him without the urgency inside her commanding all her other senses. It was such a wonderful feeling to just hold him, to hear him breathing deeply by her ear, to sense his weight nestled on top of her. And she wistfully wished that she could feel this way for the very rest of her days.

Chapter 21

R
aven-black locks rested over his midriff, blanketing him in a fleece of silken strands.

Anthony gazed down at the beautiful nymph in his arms. He was propped up against a pillow, his knees bent like two mountainous peaks, shielding a slumbering Sabrina between them. Her smooth cheek rested over his bare belly, and he could feel her soft, warm breath stir and tickle the fine hairs on his abdomen.

He had never seen her sleep so soundly. Nor had he ever been so at peace as when she was curled in his arms.

He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, thinking about the little cottage he was going to buy for her, and how he would come to visit her and continue to share her bed. It was nice to imagine she would remain an intimate part of his life for years to come. He didn’t like the thought of losing her. He was content to have her as his mistress.

Mistress. Would she consent to such an arrangement? He wasn’t sure. He had poor judgment when it came to
this
particular female’s thoughts. All he knew was that she felt an obligation toward her father to honor her arranged marriage. But according to Sabrina, she had neither a father nor a marriage anymore. Did she now consider her obligation void? Would she be willing to engage in an affair with him?

He’d have to broach the matter carefully with her. The timing had to be exact or he risked the proposition coming across as an insult. It might appear he was offering his help in exchange for her favors, and he didn’t want her to think him a callous brute. He was her protector. And he would take care of her regardless of her response to his offer.

But it was a delightful thought to have her as his paramour. And he hoped that thought would one day come to fruition. He saw no reason why their liaison should come to an abrupt end, not when they both found such comfort and pleasure in one another’s arms.

Sabrina stirred and murmured unintelligibly. He could feel her lashes whisking across his skin in rhythmic blinking.

Rousing her somnolent head, her midnight blue eyes lifted to meet his and he gave her a lazy smile. “Good morning.”

She offered him a shy, half smile in return, and he chuckled softly at her newfound bashfulness. “You slept well. I didn’t feel you stir in my arms all night.”

A soft pink blush adorned her cheeks. She was delightfully whimsical in her temperament. So candid and passionate in one moment and so quiet and reserved in another.

She wiggled in his arms, trying to pull away from him, but the movement of her grinding body sparked new life into his own drowsy limbs.

“Anthony!” she gasped, as she found herself tumbling across the bed, her hands pinned high above her head.

He positioned himself on top of her and grinned roguishly. “I like it when you cry out my name.”

Hot pigment darkened her cheeks even more, and he couldn’t resist kissing her when she was so charmingly chagrined. Ah, but what a sweet mistake that was, for one taste of her enticing lips and he had to taste even more of her—all of her. His mouth sought out an adorable earlobe.

“Anthony,” she clipped out, an anxious tinge to her voice, “we have to get up.”

“Not at all, my dear,” he said in a husky drawl, nibbling her ear. “We can stay in bed all morning if we choose.” He moved on to nip at her neck.

She flinched, and he soothed the innocent bite with a languorous caress of his tongue. She shuddered beneath him. He liked the feel of her excitement rippling against his every muscle. With her hands stretched taut above her head, her breasts were pressed hard into his chest, and he liked the feel of that even more. The only thing he didn’t like were the fibers of her wool chemise rubbing up against his skin instead of her own silken flesh. But he took care of that minor irritant with a quick flick of his wrists.

Her hands released, he tugged at the straps of her garment and yanked them down to her waist.

“That’s much better,” he rasped with carnal hunger, staring down at the two beautiful mounds of her exposed breasts. God, they were even more stunning in the daylight when he could see every magnificent inch of them.

She gave a brief, startled cry of protest at being disrobed with such speed, but when his ravenous lips took a plump breast into his mouth, her protests turned to moans of pleasure.

He chuckled at the feel of her anxious fingers weaving through his hair, holding him tight to her breast. He loved it when she gave him an uninhibited response. Her honest and so powerful desire made his all the more intense.

He thoroughly tended to both her breasts, caressing them, kissing them, suckling them, bringing her to such a state of arousal, her grip tightened on his hair until his scalp pinched.

To relieve the building pressure in both his head and his groin, he slipped between her warm legs. He was already naked, his trousers discarded during the course of the night. He had only to adjust her chemise, so it was crumpled up around her hips, and then he dove into her in one swift and steady stroke.

She was hot and wet inside. It was pure ecstasy to join with her. His body tight and ready, he began to move in slow undulations.

Her face was a lovely mixture of need and pleasure, and he watched her expression intently, aroused even more by the patent feelings of lust he was able to incite in her.

Lush lips parted and panting, she let out a soft, aching moan, and he lost all intention of a deliberate coupling, his hips rocking with greater urgency against her own. He thrust into her over and over again, his muscles flexed and straining, as he held his own climax in check. When he heard her cry of release and sensed her body spasm around him, he let go of his own restraint, driving into her in swift successions, letting out a loud, guttural cry of pure physical fulfillment.

His breaths were quick and heavy, his heart a thundering drum beating. He took a moment to steady the thudding organ before he slowly pulled out of her comforting heat.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she said in a quiet voice, her own breathing swift and raspy.

“Ah, but we can, my dear.” His lips went to her forehead and he could feel the hot flush of her skin. “We can do this for as long and as often as we like.” When he sensed her brow furrow beneath his lips, he gave her another quick kiss on the mouth. “But now is not the time to talk about it.” Now was definitely
not
the time to ask her to be his mistress. “We have another important matter to deal with.”

With another kiss on her lips, he left the bed and went to gather his discarded trousers from the floor. Sabrina scrambled to cover herself, wiggling back into her chemise, and a light smile touched his lips at her sudden modesty after the intimacy they had just shared. His smiled only broadened when she finished fiddling with her chemise and happened to look up to find him still in his natural state.

Her eyes quickly averted to the bed, her cheeks a blooming pink blush.

He chuckled softly and said in jest, “
Now
you are ashamed to look at me?”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m just not used to seeing you, well, any man—” Flustered, she paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m not used to looking at anyone unclothed.”

He dropped the pants on the floor again and sauntered back over to the bed.

Sabrina’s eyes widened at his approach. “What are you doing?” she demanded in alarm, scooting across the bed.

But he caught her ankles and yanked her forward. “Perhaps you should get accustomed to looking at a nude man—especially this man.”

He lifted her to her feet, so she stood opposite him, enough distance between them to reveal every male part of him to her innocent gaze. But she kept those heavenly blue eyes pinned fixedly on his face.