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He cupped her upper arms, nearly groaning aloud when her dress slipped downward, draping over his hands in silent supplication. Ivory-toned skin peeked through her curtain of hair, stirring an urge so dangerously primitive, he shook withit.
He pushed out the words. “At least our marriage won’t be lacking in one area.”
“It won’t lack in any area. Not if you’re willing to give it a chance.”
He closed his eyes, speaking through gritted teeth. “A wife. Ahome. Sex. That’s all I want.”
“It won’t be. Not for long.”
“You play a dangerous game, lady.”
“It’s no game.”
Her arms lifted free of her dress and encircled his neck. She was like some untamed mythological goddess. Masked, her hair tumbled in an appealing tangle, bared to the waist, her mouth lifted to his in generous invitation. He unleashed his control and allowed her spell to consumehim.
She branded him with her delicate touch, igniting him, setting a wildfire that wiped clean all thought He leaned into her, fell into her, filling his hands with her lush breasts, filling her mouth with fierce, uncontrolled sweeps of his tongue.
The scent of her drove him wild, her taste a distant, yet strangely familiar memory that had him acting on pure instinct. He bit her lower lip, tugging on it. And then he found the fine-boned joining of her neck and shoulder, and finally the pebbled tips of her breasts.
Her soft cries of pleasure drove him onward, had him lifting the wide skirt of her gown to give her the completion they both so desperately sought
“Wait.” She stayed his hand. “We can’t. Someone might see.”
“Don’t stop me.” His breath labored in his chest and he trembled with the strain of speaking when the moment called for sheer physical expression. It had been so long since he’d had a woman, so long since he’d wanted a woman that he was almost mindless with need. “I don’t think I can stop now.”
“You don’t have to. But we can’t make love here.” She fumbled behind her for the doorknob. “This room’s been deserted for years. No one will find us.”
If he'd been paying attention, he'd have known the truth, known whom he held in his arms, understood why her kisses were so familiar, why they made him so frantic, why he could anticipate her every craving and she his. But he simply accepted her comment at face value, accepted that she would know the room was empty, that no one had used it for years, and that it lay silently in wait for the joining of two time-lost lovers.
Moonlight led the way inside and then deserted them, forcing him to rely on scent and sound. For some reason it intensified his arousal, drove the imperative to mate. The rustle of her dress pinpointed her location and he came after her, snatching her from the arms of darkness into his embrace. Her dress was a hindrance soon discarded.
“Where?” he demanded.
Somehow she understood his question. “This way.”
Three swift steps led him to a sheet-covered bed. He lowered her to the cool cotton, stripping away her nylons and panties. For a brief instant the moon unveiled itself again and he saw her clearly.
She was white on white, her skin a lustrous pearl on a bed of milky innocence. The only color provided by the hint of gold in the long strands of hair pillowing her head and textured between her thighs.
And her eyes. Huge and black and filled with a woman’s vulnerability. For some reason her mask only added to that vulnerability, adorning her with shy mystery.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I’m going to make you mine. Now. But I swear on what little honor I possess I’ll marry you afterward.”
“I know that, too.”
Her certainty cut with whip like brutality, biting deep and leaving a scar he’d carry for years to come. He didn’t deserve such faith. But he wanted it. He wanted it as urgently as he wanted to sink into her softness.
The moonlight dimmed, like the slow giving of day into the dusky embrace of night. Before it slipped away, he intended to be in her arms, to hold her close so she wouldn’t be alone in thedark.
His clothes hit the floor with decisive haste. Once finished, he came to her, wrapping her in warmth as the blackness descended, rolling onto his back with her on top of him. Her mouth scoured his chest with kisses of fire and her hair blanketed him, the strands long enough to cloak him all the way to his hips. He shuddered, tortured by a pleasure so intense he thought it just might kill him. If he could have found his voice, he’d have begged for mercy.
Instead, he flipped her onto her back. His kisses were too hard, too demanding. But rather than complaining, she cupped his face and lifted her mouth formore.
“Tell me this isn’t your first time,” he said, his voice raw to the point he barely recognized it as hisown.
