Rose of Betrayal (52 page)

 
His answer came when her legs separated to
open herself to supreme gratification.
 
“It won't hurt for long, baby. Trust me. Trust me.”

           
Brad
tried to prepare her, but his knowledge obtained from experience, told him
there was no way to prepare a virgin totally for the final conquest.
 
Blanketing her whimpers with his mouth, he
slowly and steadily pressed on until he penetrated her tight and triumphant
feeling her shudder almost immediately as he continued to stroke her cavern, in
and out, driving deeper with each thrust forward, until she could take no more.

           
In
all her dreams it had never been quite like this, Sam reflected willingly
matching his slow steady movements.
 
The
pain was not as bad as she anticipate he had made sure of that.
 
Apparently, in no hurry, he was such a
considerate, gentle, lover she did not want this moment to end.

           
The
holocaust of their desire intensified.
  
Brad's thrusts quicker, harder more demanding bringing her closer to the
crest of a wave soon to hurl her into a myriad of seizures.
 
Her mind drifted only for a moment when she
questioned if Brad only wanted her the way he could have any woman, if so, why
didn’t he simply take her quickly by the fire, on the floor, with no regard to,
her feelings, her comfort.
 
Was it
possible there was more to know about the man churning up her world?
 
Was there a chance he loved her?

Unable to wait any
longer, placing his hands beneath the smooth globes of her buttocks, raising
her, gripping her tightly offering no escape, he prepared her for the final
selfish strokes.
 
As the bed moved back
and forth, he realized now what he’d been doing with other women all these
years was nothing compared to what he was experiencing with Sam.
 
He was her first.
 
Although he had taken many other virgin’s,
she was a precious gift he would cherish through the years they would spend
together.
 

           
Sam
did not have to say it, would never have to say it, somehow he knew she loved
him.
 
No woman ever gave herself to him
as she was doing now.
 
He could wait
until she admitted it.
 
She was all he
would ever want.
 
All he would ever
need.
 
Without her he had nothing, he was
nothing.
 
Moving rapidly, his shaft
finally found the hot center of her orgasm before she knew it was coming.

           
Sam
could take no more.
 
She wanted to
scream, to cry it hurt so good, and she did while her body quaked beneath him, her
fingers gripping his arms, nails digging in as she reached the edge of her
final paroxysm.
 
As spasms continued to
rip through her, he held her close murmuring words she did not understand,
could not have possibly heard.
 
She was
somewhere golden, somewhere foreign, a place she would only visit again with
him.
 
It would be dangerous to admit, to
let go to allow herself to love a man so thrillingly magnanimous.
 
The answers she sought were within her all
along.
 
All she had to do was raise the
curtain, relinquish her fear, and confess from the first moment she saw him, he
had stolen more than her soul, he’d claimed her heart.

           
Did
she hear him, Brad wondered, finally he said it, told Sam he loved her and it
was as though she was not there.
 
Riding
the wave spinning him into a tenebrous tunnel, thrusting him to the ground, and
launching him skyward he savored every second as if it was the last time he
would ever know her so completely.
 
He
would show her, prove how much he loved her give her all he had to give.
 
Desire glazed eyes watched her breasts move
slowly at first, then rapidly matching each thrust, her head whipping back and
forth, made him feel every inch of a man.
 
Though he heard her begging him to stop, her fingers gripping, digging
into his buttocks directing his moves said otherwise.
 
Giving no thought to her, like a cave man
seeking selfish pleasure, he grunted and groaned trying to hold out as long as
he could, until the volcano exploded in hot spurts flooding her.

           
Moments'
later sweat drenched and spent Brad lay beside Sam amid scattered
bedclothes.
 
Despite his many conquests,
he had never experienced anything sexually compared to the thrill of possessing
her.
 
He became lost in the glorious
rapture of knowing he had given the only woman he would ever love his soul, his
heart, and God willing, the seed that would grant him his most guarded wish - a
child.
 

           
Desperately
they clung together unwilling to let go of their new discovery afraid it might
disappear in the mornings light.
 
They worshipped
each other with tender kisses, touches, and unspoken pledges born from newly
unearthed love.
 
Sweeping Sam's locks
from her brow, he lifted her chin with his finger.
 
Tears glittered on her cheeks matching the
ones he had all he could do to withhold.
 
So strong was his desire for her, he was hard and ready to take her, but
knew she must be uncomfortable from her first experience.
 
Waiting until tomorrow would be wiser when he
would tell her repeatedly of his love both verbally and physically.
 

           
She
saw his desire.
 
This time, as though an
experienced lover, willingly she reached for his penis and stroked, pleased
with how quickly it swelled and lengthened.
 
Surprisingly, she took the large mass into her mouth, the moisture, and
heat making him gasp and arch his back.
  
Certain she was not ready for that type of love making, his hands
gripping her head pulled it away and returned her hand to his penis teaching
her the moves that quickly brought him to an explosive climax.
 

           
Kissing
her forehead, Brad murmured, “Thank you.
 
Sleep now, Princess.
 
I'm
here.
 
I'll always be here.
 
I'll always protect you.”
  
The sleep that had been a stranger for so
long became a welcomed friend.

Sam did not have the heart to
speak.
 
How could she tell him her tears were
from longing to hear him say what she hoped she knew?

CHAPTER 41

           
Nestled
in Brad's arms Sam felt such an over whelming sense of belonging, as if she had
been searching for something ethereal and finally found it.
  
Warm currents shot from the tips of her hair
to the tips of her toes.
 
She felt safe,
secure enveloped in the mass of human muscle holding the universe at bay.
 

           
As
he slept, she inhaled his fragrance.
  
The pads of her fingers touched his body while watching him awed by,
what a thorough, hungry, lover he had been, how his iron strong hands and body
turned to velvet when caressing her.
  
Sex with him was a glorious encounter.
 
Feeling as if she had just sprouted wings she soared high above the
world with him beside her, like Superman and Lois Lane, she giggled.
 
He had a way of making her so very glad she
was born a woman.
 
Lying beneath him,
accepting him within her, became a union so powerful she felt invincible.

           
She
had pleased him as well.
 
Something she
believed she could never do.
 
Watching
the storm in his eyes turn to the sunniest of summer days, his lips curl into
the sweetest of smiles, and hearing him mumble words of thanks, swelled her
heart beyond capacity.
 
If only he had
spoken words of love, then maybe there would be a chance for them.
 
Instantly she wondered how a man could expend
so much energy satisfying a woman if he did not love her.

           
Brad
turned his princely face toward her, his eyes still closed.
 
She quickly covered her breast to keep her
heart from tearing from her.
 
It was
inflating with something unexplainable, something beginning to scare her to
death. The very real possibility she was in love for the first time and last
time.

 
Reflections of Brad wrestling with those of
Ted altered her mood.
 
Pressing the waded
sheet in her hand to her mouth stifled the words bursting through her lips,
“Oh, my God.”
 
Did Ted know where she
was?
 
Was he worried?
 
How did Bernie explain her absence?
  
How was she going to tell him the wedding
was off?
 
Tomorrow was Friday, the day
before, he would be devastated, and yet she couldn't marry him, not now, not
after . . .

           
Infiltrated
with an onerous need to call Ted to let him know she was all right, to explain,
she slithered from the bed.
 
Draping
Brad's jogging jacket over her shoulders she tiptoed downstairs, surely, Ted
would understand why she had to see Brad, but would he believe her absence was
due to the storm?

           
The
moon furnished the necessary illumination to assist her in locating her cell
phone.
 
Before dialing, her glance found
Brad’s desk the rolled top open.
  
Funny
she thought Brad was always adamant about keeping it closed and locked.
 
Apparently, he had been working earlier in
the day and neglected to do so.
 
A glint
of curiosity sparked as she wondered why he had been so determined about its
security.

           
 
Phone in hand, the lack of sufficient lighting
to dial made her approach the desk to turn on the small desk lamp offering just
enough suffused rays.
 
Dialing, as the
phone rang her concentration found the disarray of papers.
 
She chuckled over Brad's
disorganization.
 
As if coerced by some
charismatic power over powering her eyes they zeroed in on a name written in
his opened checkbook, a name that seemed vaguely familiar. Feeling like a spy,
she jerked her attention away telling herself it was none of her business.
  
Struggling to concentrate on the continuous
ringing of the phone, her eyes inadvertently lapsed to a check bearing the
current date made out to a . . . Candy . . . Ewing . . . in the amount of four
thousand dollars . . . for . . . child support.

           
Torpidly,
so sluggishly, but much faster than she wanted, truth crawling inside wrapped
its' tentacles around her like a dreaded creature in a childhood nightmare,
clutching her throat, sucking the newly discovered joy from her heart and
crushing it.
 
Blood gushed to her brain,
its' surge sounding like a roaring waterfall.
 
Her heart knocked wildly at her rib cage.
 
Her vision blurred.
 
Sparks flitted across her eyes.
  

“Hello!
 
Hello!
 
Sam,” a voice demanded.

           
The
creature on the other end of the line had plagiarized Sam's voice not
permitting passage of words or air.
  
Murder was her first thought, suicide the next.

“Hello!
 
Hello! Sam is it you?
 
Dammit.”
 

           
A
loud signal sliced through the thick, black cloud swamping her.
  
With knuckles bleached white from gripping
the phone, Sam whimpered silently, “Ted!
 
Oh, Ted, you were right all along.
 
How could I have been so blind, so damn stupid?”
  
While fighting the urge to toss the phone
against the wall or smash it against Brad's skull, her whole body convulsed in
agony.
 
Frantic hands scrubbed tears from
her face.

           
Instantly
appalled by her previous uncontrolled behavior, she was convinced she was
insane to allow herself to be used.
  
She
should have known how the master of seduction could make her feel.
 
Why did she allow him to touch her body, her
heart?
 
Why did she allow him to prove to
her, she was nothing more than another conquest?
 
Giving a little laugh, her nagging conscience
rudely reminded her she wanted him to, encouraged him.