What Wild Moonlight (26 page)

As her hips pressed against his, the burning hunger within him ignited and became a dull ache. Suddenly impatient to feel her skin against his own, he lifted his hand and fumbled awkwardly with the ribbons that fastened the front of her gown. As he worked the silky ties free he kissed her jaw, her ear, her neck, then trailed a line of fiery kisses along the delicate length of her collarbone.

Once her gown was partially opened, he nuzzled the shadowy cleft between her breasts with an eager, awkward ferocity, as though starving for the taste of her skin. He was overcome by a sense of almost painful urgency, so intense was his desire for Katya. Nicholas had always considered himself a courteous, even proficient lover. But at the moment he was aware of nothing but his own overwhelming need.

He glanced around the wooden gazebo, his eyes moving from the rough wooden floor to the cold stone benches—both entirely unsuitable for his purposes. But he was too hungry for her, too nakedly needy to wait until they reached the sanctuary of his bedroom. He took her hand and ushered her down the wide flight of stairs that led from the gazebo to the gardens below. He stopped in a patch of lush, dewy grass that was encircled by the white rosebushes. Removing his thick burgundy dressing robe, he spread it out over the grass as a makeshift blanket.

Katya willingly followed Nicholas’s lead, completely captured by the magical, sensual spell he had woven around her. She hesitated only when he knelt down and attempted to pull her down beside him. A spark of prim practicality intruded on the sensual fog that had overtaken her.

“We’ll ruin your dressing robe,” she protested.

“I’ll buy another one.”

Responding to the undisguised hunger she heard in his voice, she allowed Nicholas to guide her down beside him onto the soft burgundy velvet. His large hands gently stroked her body as she lay beside him, touching her with a captivating combination of passion and reverence. She searched his eyes and saw the smoky fires of desire blazing within their ebony depths. But there was something else there as well. Something that looked astonishingly like raw, overwhelming need. For her.

Awed by the realization he wanted her as badly as she wanted him, she put aside her hesitation and reached out for him, lightly moving her hands over the firm, hard muscles of his chest. Nicholas let out a sound that was half growl, half moan and pressed his mouth against hers once again. The subtle taste of brandy clung to his lips, warming her blood and making her head swim with dizzy desire. She returned his kiss with the same ardent urgency she felt building within him.

Nicholas’s large, powerful hands moved over her body with a sure, deft touch, heating her skin beneath the gown. Then he shifted slightly so that she lay flat on the ground beneath him. He propped himself up on his elbows, bracing his weight above her as he reached down and caught the front of her dressing gown between his fingers. Carefully parting the smooth cotton fabric, he traced his fingers lightly along her skin. He moved with slow deliberation, totally absorbed in his task.

As his hand moved from her collarbone to her navel, Katya’s attention was caught by the feel of his ring against her skin. The cold, thick band of gold sent an icy shiver down her spine. Although she had tried to avoid thinking about it, the ring provided a jolt of unwelcome reality. There was no escaping the fact that she was about to give herself to her family’s mortal enemy.

She drew back abruptly. “Nicholas.”

He lifted his head, studying her with eyes that smoldered with desire. “Yes?”

“Will you take that off?”

“What? Oh—of course.” His hands reached automatically toward the buttons of his shirt.

“No, not that. Your ring.”

His brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “My ring?”

“It, ah, the metal feels cold against my skin. Do you mind?”

By way of answer, he pulled off the ancient gold band and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Then he reached beneath her gown and ran his hand up the silky skin of her thigh. “Better?” he murmured. His breath fanned her ear, all hot, seductive, and spicy.

Katya managed a tight nod. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing her tension away. She knew her request had been nothing but childish superstition on her part. Making him take off his ring would do no more good than knocking wood or hunting for four-leaf clovers. But in some small, foolish corner of her mind, she couldn’t help but feel that if his ring were gone, all the bad connected with it would disappear as well.

Nicholas boldly ran his hands over her skin, warming her flesh with his own. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and where his hands went, his mouth immediately followed. He kissed her hair, her face, and her breasts. He kissed her ankles, her knees, and the tops of her thighs. He kissed her fingers, her wrists, and the nape of her neck, setting her flesh on fire with his fiery touch. Soon Katya was aware of nothing else. She succumbed completely to the mastery of his touch as his hands worked free the last ties to her dressing gown. He parted the garments and pulled them from her body, carelessly tossing them aside.

A sudden stillness came over him. Katya lay beneath him, naked and vulnerable; she was suddenly awash with trepidation. She fought the urge to cover herself as she searched his gaze for signs of disappointment. Insecurities she had never known she possessed suddenly rose up, threatening to extinguish the heady passion that had engulfed her so completely only moments ago. Were her breasts too large? Too small? Was her waist too narrow, her hips too full, her legs too long?

Much to her relief, however, she read stark approval in his eyes, combined with profound, unmistakable desire. She had thought him a lone, predatory animal when they first met. That same sense struck her now. Something in the way his ebony gaze moved slowly over her body told her that he was branding her as his own. She had always considered herself a thoroughly modern and rational woman. But the notion of belonging to Nicholas Duvall sent through her a primitive thrill that was undeniable.

“Look at you,” he murmured huskily. “You’re so beautiful, Katya. So beautiful.” Kneeling, he lifted his hands and traced them lightly over her body, as though fixing her every curve to memory.

The thrill of feminine conquest coursed through her as she experienced a pride she had never before known. But his words jarred something deep within her. She was not content simply to have him see her. She wanted—needed—to feel and explore his body in the way that he was touching hers. She reached up and tugged at his shirt, popping the buttons off the smooth, crisp linen. Immediately reading her intent, he shrugged off the garment. They fumbled together with the rest of his clothing, lost in their urgency and clumsy with desire.

Once Nicholas was naked he knelt before her in the moonlit garden, his skin glowing like ancient bronze. His body was a mass of hard, sinewy muscle and lean, powerfully sculpted flesh, so perfect that it was almost intimidating. She lifted her hand and placed it tentatively on his chest, as though she wasn’t quite certain of her right to touch him. His skin felt hot and curiously smooth; his muscles quivered and leapt to life beneath her hand. Emboldened by his reaction to her touch, filled with both wonder and awe, she lightly skimmed her hands over his body. His dark hair was silkier than she had imagined, his shoulders broader, his muscles firmer. She indulged her wanton curiosity, touching him everywhere—until she reached his manhood.

Then she pulled back her hand as though it had been bitten by a snake.

Katya was not so naive that she lacked a rudimentary knowledge of lovemaking. Once she had even dared to read an anatomy book. But the dry, clinical explanation she had read bore no resemblance to what she was currently experiencing. What about the anxious trembling that seized her limbs, the sensual fog that muddled her thoughts, or the tight knot that filled her belly and radiated warmth through her veins? Why hadn’t these been mentioned?

Her gaze returned skittishly to Nicholas’s throbbing manhood. His firm erection jutted proudly to life against the flatness of his stomach. She swallowed hard as wary skepticism gripped her. He would bury that intimate part of himself deep within her? Impossible.

As though sensing her fear, he gathered her in his arms once again, refusing to allow her time to focus on her worries. His lips over hers, he cupped her breasts in his hands. He brushed his fingers lightly over her nipples, teasing them until they rose to firm, stiff peaks. Just when Katya thought she could stand the pleasure of his touch no longer, he brought his mouth to her nipple, gently licking and sucking. She gave a cry of shock and stiffened in surprise, then melted with pleasure. His lips traveled over her body in erotic exploration, kissing her ribs, the hollow curve of her belly, the soft swell of her hip. He lavished her with kisses and caresses, stroking her body until it felt inflamed.

Then he moved his hand, bringing it to rest between her thighs. She instinctively clamped her legs shut in wild panic.

“Easy, Katya,” he murmured against her ear. “Open your legs for me, little gypsy.”

Gathering her courage, she cautiously inched her thighs apart. As she did, she experienced a momentary, fleeting sense of shame at her response to him. She felt a damp heat between her legs and a pulsating warmth that seemed to radiate from her thighs and spread outward. No doubt someone like Corrina Jeffreys would be cool, dry, and slightly remote. Katya sensed that her own response was entirely unseemly, but she had no idea how to control it.

Fortunately Nicholas gave no indication of displeasure. In fact, just the opposite was true. As his fingers explored the soft folds of her innermost places, he gave a low growl that sounded distinctly approving. He rhythmically stroked the tight pearl of flesh fronting the delicate opening between her legs, causing a shiver of heated excitement to course up her spine.

Katya’s restraint vanished as she surrendered completely to her base instincts. Her need for him was overpowering, almost a living, breathing thing, so great was the hunger that engulfed her. Her nails clawed at his back as she writhed beneath him. She heard a strange, faraway noise, something between a moan and a purr, and she was startled to realize that it was she who was making it.

She felt a tremor run through Nicholas as he gave a soft moan of his own. “Katya,” he said, her name a breathless sigh that had been torn from deep within him.

He shifted slightly, bracing himself on his elbows above her. His eyes locked onto hers as the tip of his silky shaft touched the folds of her innermost lips. Moving with deliberate, infinite care, he thrust his hips forward and slowly entered her.

Katya’s eyes widened with wonder. She felt her body stretch to allow him entrance, then hold his manhood in a tight, firm grip deep inside. Awe and tenderness flooded through her. Their union was so simple and at the same time so intimate and earthshaking. Unable to put her emotions into words, she placed her hands on Nicholas’s shoulders, drawing him closer into her embrace.

He slid his hips forward, inching further inside her, then abruptly he stopped. A look of shocked surprise marked his features. His gaze shot to hers. He was clearly holding back, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding himself still. She realized in that instant that he was waiting for something from her, for some sort of acknowledgment or acquiescence. She lifted her hand and ran it lightly over his jaw, instinctively attempting to soothe the tension she saw there.

“Don’t stop,” she said. She had nothing but a hazy idea of what she was saying, but that didn’t matter. She knew only that stopping now would be more painful than anything yet to come.

A look of naked relief crossed his features, followed almost immediately by an expression of harsh regret. He drew back, then plunged himself deep within her. Sharp, stabbing pain intruded into the warm, melting sensation she had experienced only moments earlier.

Katya stiffened in shock and opened her lips to cry out. Nicholas captured her mouth with his, swallowing her cry as though attempting to transfer her pain to himself. And the sharp ache slowly eased. She let out a sigh of relief as the tension drained out of her.

Feeling her relax beneath him, Nicholas began to move once again. He pulled his hips back, then thrust slowly forward. He moved cautiously at first, as though she were supremely fragile. As the sensual pressure built within her once again, she lifted her hips to meet his. Her hands gently caressed his back, silently urging him on. Taking his cue from her, he began to move faster, stroking her deep inside, moving in an endless, teasing dance of withdrawal and advance that left her yearning, aching for more.

Katya grasped his shoulders and arched her back to meet his steady, rhythmic thrusts. Her breath came in short, hot gasps and a fine sheen of perspiration coated her skin. She was wet and hot, yet her body trembled as though it were the dead of winter. She couldn’t stop touching Nicholas; she needed him too badly. Her hands skimmed the bunched muscles of his back, his firm buttocks, his rocklike thighs, moving over his body with almost frantic determination.

She felt as though she were melting and flying at the same time, building toward some unknown goal. A tight knot of liquid fire coiled within her belly, threatening to explode at any moment. She was soaring, climbing ever higher, striving to reach some faraway plateau. Her fingers clenched reflexively as a sudden rush of heat surged through her body. Passion swelled within her. Her limbs tensed, then abruptly relaxed as a thousand stars shattered deep within her, sending waves of shimmering pleasure coursing through her veins.

As she arched her back and cried out her pleasure Nicholas drove into her harder and harder, faster and deeper. He threw back his head, his body shuddering as he gave a hoarse cry of his own. The wet warmth of his seed poured into her, filling her with its rich male essence. Then he collapsed weakly on top of her, as drained of strength as she was.

They lay together atop the burgundy velvet, their slick bodies still intimately joined, locked together in breathless triumph. Katya felt Nicholas’s chest rise and fall against her own, heard his heart pound against her ear. Her senses working overtime, she concentrated intently, fixing the moment forever in her mind. She wanted to remember it all: the stars twinkling in the sky above them, the sound of their mingled breathing, the salty taste of his skin, the thick fragrance of the roses mingled with the heady odor of their union, the sticky warmth between her thighs. She suspected she would be sore tomorrow—perhaps she would even experience regret—but at that moment it didn’t matter.