The Tiger Lily (31 page)

Sensually
Brett undulated her hips between his legs, and every time their bodies met,
each experienced a shock of raw desire. Sabrina could feel the probing length
of his manhood slipping hotly against her thighs, and she gasped with a
mingling of excitement and apprehension. He was so strong, so powerful, and the
thought of what he would do to her with his lean, hard body was intoxicating
and yet faintly alarming. Every inch of her tingled with an arousing awareness
of his body, her flesh intensely sensitive, the slightest touch, the lightest
movement, sending a shudder of near ecstasy rippling deep within her.

His
hands captured her buttocks, cupping them, pulling her up against him as he
buried his mouth more passionately on hers, all coherent thought having fled.
Mercilessly gripped by the deepest, most powerful desire he had ever
experienced in his life, Brett lifted her partially from the water, his lips
sliding warmly down her wet chest, hungering for the taste of those sweet
breasts that were now exposed to his gently ravaging mouth.

They
were like two pagan lovers in the moonlight, Sabrina's skin glistening like
silver, small droplets of water gleaming like diamonds on her full, firm
breasts; Brett's dark head was bent to her nipple, the steely muscles of his
upper back etched by moonlight. Her hands caressed his broad shoulders; her
head was flung back in wild abandon as his mouth moved on her breast, his
tongue curling tightly over the desire-swollen nipple, his teeth softly grazing
the sensitized skin. Sabrina shivered with pleasure, the warm, pulsating
feeling in her loins becoming stronger, more demanding. Driven by emotions she
had no control over, she pressed her fingers harder into his shoulders, her
slender body moving evocatively against him.

Brett
groaned softly as her movements increased, the blood pounding thickly in his
head, and his hold on her hips tightened, his fingers grasping her almost
brutally. Her thighs had instinctively found their way around his body, and the
touch of her as she pressed against him with wanton innocence was
indescribable. The aching, throbbing shaft of his maleness rode up between her
buttocks, and Brett trembled at just the thought of possessing her.

Urgently
he forced one hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding down her stomach
to explore and excite the very center of her being. Breathlessly Sabrina surged
up against him as his fingers gently caressed her, her arms clenching around
his neck, her lips moving feverishly across his dark hair. Insistently he
probed between her legs, arousing a raging storm of carnal emotion within her,
and again and again she arched up against his hand, shaking and quivering from
the force of the maelstrom his warm, searching caresses had aroused.

Unable
to bear the ecstasy that was swamping her body, she moaned aloud, and at the
sound Brett could wait no longer. As if guessing what would happen, she
returned her lips to his. His hands went to her hips, and impatiently he guided
her to him. For a moment she was poised above him, and then with a fierce,
fluid movement he thrust himself up within her, pulling her down onto him, the
water swelling around them.

Her
cry of hurt was muffled beneath his lips but he felt it, as well as the slight
obstruction of her virginity, felt her body tense with pain. His eyes snapped
open, and he stared at her lovely face with shock. "Jesus, Sabrina,"
he breathed raggedly, "I didn't mean to ... I wouldn't have hurt you
..." He stopped speaking, desire making speech or thought impossible. She
was so incredibly warm, so very tight around him, that he closed his eyes with
agonized pleasure. His hands caressed her hips, and thickly he muttered, "I
can't stop now. I'm eaten up with want of you, and this time I cannot be
denied!" With a tender savagery his mouth captured hers, his hands guiding
her up and down, his body plunging deeply within her.

For
a moment he stayed fully within her, letting her body adjust to this sudden
invasion, and Sabrina clung weakly to him in stunned compliance. His very size
made her ache, and she was bewildered by the poignant emotions that raced
through her. She was a virgin no longer. She hurt physically from that loss,
and yet there was such a feeling of rapture, such joy at becoming his woman,
that soon the pain vanished and she was aware only of pleasure, a pleasure she
had never imagined.

Her
thighs tightened around his waist, and almost lasciviously she arched up to
him, wanting him to do more, wanting to feel him move within her. Brett sighed
softly at her movements, and with an odd tenderness he slowly, unhurriedly
thrust his body into hers, giving them both ecstasy, taking them with his
increasingly frantic movements into the limitless, intensely sensual world
shared only by lovers. And when it was over, when ecstasy had been reached, they
still clung to each other, unable to let this magical moment end.

Sabrina
was so shattered by the pulsating explosion of her own body, by the waves that
shuddered through her when at last she reached fulfillment, that it was only
when he laid her gently down on one of the cushions in the gazebo that she
became aware that Brett had carried her still locked around him from the water.
For one tiny moment her mind rebelled that he should bring her here, Carlos's
attack still vivid, but then Brett's warm, hard body was lying beside her, his
hands touching her breasts, his mouth nipping that sensitive place where her
neck joined her shoulder, and she instantly forgot everything but the drugging
caresses of the man who lay beside her.

Propping
himself up on one elbow, Brett reached for his discarded shirt lying nearby and
slowly began to dry her wet body, the warmth of his hands burning through the
cotton material. With slow, lingering movements he rubbed her skin,
unconsciously arousing her again, the abrasion of the material and his fondling
hands equally evocative. When he reached between her thighs, she arched up
against the cotton shirt, excited by the way he used it on her body. She
thought he smiled at her restless tossings, but she couldn't be sure, and a second
later he threw the shirt aside and lay back down beside her.

They
touched each other gently, wonderingly, Brett's lips searing a path down to her
breasts, his tongue flicking and teasing the rigid nipples, his hands wandering
at will over her slender body. Sabrina trembled under his knowing caresses, her
own untaught hands moving more slowly, more hesitantly, over his hard muscles.
There was an element of astonishment in her touch; she had never realized how
soft and downy a man's body hair would feel, how silken the faint strands that
covered his legs and arms would be. The mat of curls on his broad chest was
thicker, more springy, and with catlike ecstasy, she closed her fingers over
them, her nails lightly brushing his nipples.

Brett
groaned with pleasure, the sound exciting Sabrina, and with more confidence,
she let her fingers continue their explorations, enthralled by the texture and
warmth of his skin, delighted at the way his own nipples formed hard little
buds as her fingers rubbed across them. With feather-light strokes her hands
moved over his body: his arms, his shoulders, the ridges and swells of his
muscular back, the surprising firmness of his strong buttocks, and the long
length of his powerful legs. Touching him gave her pleasure, and unconsciously
she sighed, her hands sliding across his flat stomach and encountering his
near-to-bursting manhood. For a second she hesitated, and then, driven by her
own needs, she closed her hand around him, and she was elated and shaken by the
shudder that rippled through him. She marveled at his size, remembering how it
had felt within her, and her hand instinctively began sliding up and down the warm,
bulging shaft.

Unable
to stand her sweet exploration a second longer, Brett wrenched himself away, gasping
for breath. "Not yet," he muttered hoarsely. "I want to make
love to you all night. I want to touch you, to taste you, to fill you again
with me, but if you don't stop what you're doing, we may both be doomed to
disappointment!"

Sabrina's
pulse quickened at the naked desire that burned deep within his eyes. Without
volition her arms closed around his neck and she offered her mouth to him,
wanting him to kiss her, wanting him to continue this wild magic. Instantly he
dropped his head, his mouth burning across her face to her lips, but he didn't
kiss her. Instead, his lips tantalizing inches from hers, he murmured, "I
want to look at you, to burn the memory of this night forever into my
mind." And then he shifted slightly, removed her arms from around his
neck, and raised himself up to stare down at her body, the moonlight gilding it
with silver.

She
was beautiful
as she lay there before him, her hair spread out like a fan behind her head,
her full breasts with the erect nipples illuminated by the silvery light of the
moon. Appreciatively his eyes ran down to the flat stomach, to the curly hair
between her thighs.

Overtaken
by a sudden shyness, Sabrina modestly raised her hands to her breasts, one knee
shielding her lower nakedness. An incredibly tender expression crossed his
harsh face. "Don't hide yourself from me, Sabrina," he breathed
softly, reverently. "You're lovely, and your nakedness is nothing to be
ashamed of." Slowly he removed her hands from her breasts and then gently
pushed aside her knee. Unexpectedly he lowered his head and pressed a hot kiss
where the fiery curls grew between her thighs. Sabrina's body jumped with
shock, a fierce, urgent ache suddenly exploding up through her body. With
agonizing leisure his lips moved up across her stomach, his tongue leaving a
trail of fire wherever it touched. His mouth finally found hers, and he kissed
her like a man with a long hunger to assuage, his hand once again at her
breast, his thumb gently sliding across the sensitive nipples.

Feverishly
Sabrina pressed up against him, the ache in her loins driving every thought but
one from her mind. She wanted him. She was consumed by an insatiable need to
have him take her again, to know again the rapture only he could give her.
This, she thought dreamily, was what being a woman meant, what it meant to make
love. Remembering what he had done to her in the lake, remembering the swelling
pressure, the magnificent size of him, created a pulsating warmth in her loins,
and she returned his kiss with a compelling hungriness.

Startled
by the blatant passion of her kiss, Brett glanced down at her, one eyebrow
rising quizzically. He fondled her breast, feeling the nipple's tightness. His
voice suddenly husky, he asked, "Does this mean what I think it does? What
I hope it does?"

Sabrina
flushed, but her eyes were bright with unmistakable desire, and Brett laughed
exultantly. His lips caught hers, pressing more intimately this time, more
insistently. When her mouth opened, her tongue seeking his, it was as if an
inferno had been instantly unloosed, elemental desire blinding them to
everything but the joy to be found in each other's body. And this time when
Brett took her, when he lay embedded deep within her, when his body thrust
powerfully into hers, there was no pain, only pleasure, only mindless exquisite
ecstasy.

Afterward,
passion spent, they sought out the lake again, this time swimming contentedly
next to each other, a sweet, companionable silence between them. And then
later, when they had dressed, they walked slowly, reluctantly back toward the
hacienda, Brett's arm draped possessively across her shoulders, their bodies
brushing against one another with every step they took.

Silently,
like two conspirators, they entered the hacienda, creeping up the stairs, a
slight, breathless giggle escaping from Sabrina. Brett hushed it with a fervent
kiss and then, with obvious unwillingness, released her. They regarded each
other somberly a moment, and then Brett said roughly, "We'll talk later.
After I have spoken with your father."

Mutely
Sabrina nodded, a tremulous smile on her mouth. Compulsively Brett traced the
outline of her lips with one finger and muttered almost angrily, "You'd
better go to your own room, or I won't be responsible for my actions!"

A
mischievous grin curved her mouth, and she leaned into him, faintly touching
his lean cheek with her warm lips, her slender fingers deliberately touching
him below the waist. He groaned and started to reach for her, but with a
smothered laugh, Sabrina danced away from him. She blew him an impudent kiss
and then disappeared down the shadowy hall.

Brett
stood there for several minutes after she had gone, a bemused smile on his
harsh face, an oddly tender light gleaming in the dark green eyes. Then, with a
light step, he turned away and swiftly entered his bedchamber.

After
lighting a candle, he poured himself half a glass of brandy, holding it loosely
in his hands, sipping it with appreciation. He was pleasantly tired, both his
mind and body at peace, and yet the thought of bed and sleep were out of the
question.