Lovers Forever (9 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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Tess stiffened in astonishment and pleasure when he parted that moist, silky flesh and slowly began to imitate the motions of his tongue in her mouth. With helpless abandon she writhed up against his tormenting caresses, engulfed by a sheet of fiery sensation. He explored her there for a long time as a slick warmth pooled between her thighs and her hunger for something more, her desire to reach some barely-guessed-at pinnacle, increased with every thrust of his fingers.
Nicolas needed to reach that same pinnacle just as desperately as Tess did, and finally, when he could bear it no longer, he shifted his body and slid between her thighs. Cupping her buttocks, he lifted her and with something between a growl and a groan began to sink slowly within her.
Drowning in pleasure, the feel of his smooth hard flesh pushing itself deeper and deeper within her welcoming body utter ecstasy, Tess was totally unprepared for any resistance. That she would suffer pain never occurred to her, but suddenly it was there, both resistance and pain. Instinctively she fought against it, her hands pushing against his chest, her body rigid against his invasion.
Lost in his own intoxicating ascent toward sweet gratification, Nicolas found the unexpected resistance and its implication an unpleasant shock. His eyes snapped open and he stared down into her face in dismay, his thoughts jumbled and disorganized.
It was pure hell to hold himself motionless, half buried within her, to feel the tight warmth of her silken flesh clasping him so seductively and not finish the act. Fighting against the urgent demands of his own body, trembling from the effort it took to control himself, he muttered, “Why didn't you . . . ?
Jesus
! A virgin! What the devil are you playing at? Who the hell are you?”
Her eyes still smoky with desire, Tess stared back into his dark, oddly familiar face, wondering if she dared tell him the truth—that she wasn't
playing
at anything. That she had no idea who she was, and that her virginity was as much of a shock to her as it was to him! The cruel knowledge that she had unknowingly given this man, this man she knew and yet did not know, the gift of her innocence filled her with humiliation, yet . . . yet despite everything, she didn't want this moment to end. To her great shame and despair, she discovered that she wanted him to continue, she wanted him to complete his utter possession of her, and she most ardently wanted to recapture the sensual glory that had been hers only seconds ago. That primitive need banished all other considerations from her mind, and her arms tightened around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Brushing her lips across his, she asked huskily, “Does it matter? Must we solve those mysteries tonight?”
All of Nicolas's earlier suspicions came flooding back, and he was half prepared to have the door to his room fly open and to be confronted by a triumphant matchmaking mama. Had he let himself be blinded by a beautiful face and become a victim of one of the oldest traps of all time?
Tess wiggled experimentally beneath him, discovering to her delight that the worst of the pain had ebbed and that she liked the feel of his solid length embedded within her. Her body felt deliciously stretched, her senses were singing a song as old as time, and she wanted this magical moment to continue. She moved again, catching her breath as he slipped deeper within her.
At her unconsciously seductive movement, a spasm of pleasure racked through Nicolas, and he knew that he could not tear himself away from her. Who she was or what her motives were didn't matter to him at the moment—he'd been looking for a bride anyway, and if he had to marry the scheming little witch in order to partake of this incredibly sweet joining, then so be it....
When Tess squirmed again beneath him, he let out a shuddering breath. Brushing his mouth against Tess's, he said thickly, “Nothing matters right now, sweetheart, but that I have you . . .
nothing
else....”
He caught her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss and slowly rocked his hips forward, his swollen manhood sliding full length into her narrow passage. She was so tight, so hot, so damned
sweet
, that he feared to move, feared that even one stroke would send him over the edge. It was a delicious agony, the need to thrust himself repeatedly in and out of her addicting warmth fighting fiercely with the need just to savor the incredible pleasure that was flowing through him as they remained locked together.
Tess had gasped when Nicolas had penetrated her fully, one more brief flash of pain accompanying that final thrust, but as the seconds passed she was conscious of fascinating reactions in her body. Her breasts were just as tender—if anything, they were even more sensitized as they rubbed against his smooth, warm chest. She was amazed that her body so easily accommodated his great bulk; she ached slightly from his possession, but it was the urgent demand throbbing low in her loins that captured her attention. That demand had her arms clinging to his neck, her tongue sliding daringly into his mouth, and her hips moving with unconscious seduction as she arched up against him, inviting his eager participation in this erotic dance.
Nicolas could not resist her, and the stray bemused thought crossed his mind that he would
never
be able to resist her. Then he thought of nothing, nothing except the slick heat of her body, the exquisite softness of her flesh, and the sweetness of her kiss as he drove himself time after time deep within her. The low sounds that came from her every time he buried himself in her silky tightness increased his own excitement and fed his hungry desire to bring them both to that longed-for rapture.
Tess reached it first; a soft moan escaped her, and her body stiffened in delight as a wave of intense pleasure suddenly erupted up through her body. The sheer power of it, the utter sweetness of it, left her dazed and half delirious as she lay beneath his driving body.
Hearing her cry and feeling the tremors racing through her body, Nicolas felt something snap inside him. Groaning aloud his own exultance, he thrust more frantically into her welcoming warmth, reveling in the sensations that cascaded through him. It was dark magic they had created between them, a magic he had never felt before in any woman's arms. When the red mist of fulfillment exploded in his brain and he found ecstasy, at that precise moment, he knew that by pure blind chance he had discovered something very rare and precious, something he could never let go....
It was a long time before he could bring himself to slide from her. It was too sweet, too intoxicating, to lie here and rock slowly back and forth against her body, to kiss her softly, warm, teasing kisses that brought him great satisfaction and, judging from the pleased little sighs he heard, were equally appreciated by her. Eventually, though, he did lever himself away and slip down to lie beside her, pulling her against him and cradling her head on his shoulder.
Boneless with pleasure, the brandy still working its fuzzy spell, and worn out from the excitement and terrors of the day, Tess made no attempt to escape from him. She wanted never to move again ... it was simply wonderful to lie here, to feel safe and protected, to listen drowsily to the fall of the rain, and to know that whatever else the future might hold, at least she'd had tonight.... With a child's trust, she rested her head easily where he had placed it; with her body curved along his warm, hard length, it wasn't very many moments before her eyes drifted shut and she fell deeply asleep.
Attuned to her in a way he couldn't understand, Nicolas knew the instant she went to sleep. Shifting her slightly, he raised up and stared down into her guileless face.
The flickering candlelight danced across her dainty features, and he was aware of a thickness in his chest. Who the devil was she? And what the devil was he going to do with her?
A frown crossed his face. It was out of the question to leave her behind. And with every second that passed, his suspicions about matchmaking mamas lessened. But she'd been a virgin, he thought again, puzzled and slightly angry at that fact. Unlike many of his peers, he'd never made a vice of initiating young virgins into the pleasures of physical love, and to have discovered that she had never known a lover filled him with conflicting emotions.
He couldn't deny that he had been oddly touched and enormously gratified to discover that she had been a virgin, but he was also wary of the reasons why she had chosen him to initiate her into the pleasures of physical love. She would not be the first woman who had been more dazzled by the size of his pocket than the amount of his charm, and at that thought his frown became more pronounced. He found the idea distasteful that she might have fallen so easily into his arms because of his title, but he could not dismiss the possibility entirely, and it made him angry—with himself for perhaps being blinded by another pair of lovely eyes and with her for probably having her gaze set on the main chance. His mouth twisted. It was highly unlikely that the Black Pig saw many lords, and he supposed if he were a fair-minded man, he wouldn't fault her decision to give herself for the first time to a man of wealth and prestige. But, he admitted grimly to himself, he was
not
a fair-minded man—at least not where she was concerned!
It angered him deeply that there might have been anything mercenary behind her actions tonight. Forgetting that paying generously for his pleasures had never bothered him in the past, he grew even angrier at the notion that Tess had given herself to him simply for money. He was aware of a furious impulse to shake her awake and demand to know her reasons for giving herself to him so sweetly. What had she been thinking of? And why? Why had she chosen him? Because of his title? His money? Or because . . .
Nicolas smiled wryly. What the devil was the matter with him? Did he expect her to wake and confess undying love for him? That she had taken one look at him and been swept off her feet? He chuckled slightly at himself. How ridiculous he was being. He should be pleased that he had so unexpectedly found such a bewitching companion to share his bed, and that she had been a virgin should have aroused nothing more than satisfaction within him.
He
was
satisfied, but he was also aware of a feeling of possession, of a strange tenderness that he should not have felt. Irritated because he could not dismiss tonight's events as mere novelty, he lay awake for several more minutes, trying to figure out what made her different, what had made tonight different. He came to no conclusions, and eventually sleep overtook him.
Tess woke first, the pounding in her head driving all other considerations from her mind. Only when she sat up with a groan, her fingers pressing into her aching temples, and the room slowly swam into focus did the events of the previous evening come trickling back. The pain in her head forgotten, she stared in horror at the naked man sleeping by her side.
He was a very handsome man, she admitted, with his tousled black hair and attractively chiseled features, but he was an utter stranger to her. Her own naked state suddenly impinged upon her consciousness, and the memory of what had happened between them last night exploded in vivid detail in her throbbing brain. As the minutes passed, the wretchedness of her position hit her with the force of a tidal wave.
She had half hoped that with the dawn of a new day her memory would miraculously come back, but such was not the case—beyond the moment when she had awakened beneath the oak tree yesterday afternoon, she remembered nothing. Now, still not knowing her name or who she was, she had compounded her troubles by losing her virginity to a man she had never seen before in her life! And if her despicable memory served her correctly, she had eagerly participated in the act. Oh, dear God, she thought sickly, what have I done?
Tess's immediate instinct was to escape, as if by fleeing from him and this room, she could forget what had happened. She shot off the bed as if she had been fired from a cannon. Ignoring the wave of dizziness that swept over her when she stood up, she glanced frantically around for her clothing. Spying her torn chemise on the floor nearby, she retrieved it swiftly and scrambled into the ruined garment. She had just reached for her gown when the man in the bed woke and sat up.
Her eyes huge in her small face, charming tendrils of fire-colored hair tumbling down to her shoulders, the worn pink gown clutched to her chest, Tess stared at Nicolas. He stared back at her, a frown gathering on his face.
“What the devil do you think you're doing?” he demanded irritably. “Put that damn thing down and come back to bed.”
Her mouth set resolutely, Tess clutched her gown more tightly to her chest and said, “No! I—I'm sure that Mrs. Darley needs me in the kitchen. I must go!”
“Don't be a little fool! As long as I am kept happy, Mrs. Darley won't care what you're doing.” He smiled at her and said softly, “Dolly, come to me ... please, I want you....”
The feeling that she knew him, that she could trust him, came back again very strong, and the pull of attraction between them was nearly overpowering; but Tess grimly fought against it. She had made a mistake last night, a terrible one, and had let the brandy and his abundant charm blind her to reality. But this morning, in spite of her aching head, she was thinking clearly and knew that she dared not linger here. He was a stranger, despite those flashes of familiarity, and until she knew the truth about herself, it would be the height of folly to let herself fall into his arms.

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