Betina Krahn (25 page)

“To any mission or shelter except Brother Pierpont’s,” he said, sipping wine and finding his attention stubbornly sliding down her lace-rimmed gown. It was hanging askew on her shoulders and he caught a tantalizing glimpse of the swell of one breast. His trousers began to feel a little snug.

“Demand number two: you’ll announce publicly that all requests for money—whether they’re business proposals or charity requests—must go through your company offices.”

“But that’s absurd, a waste of time and energy, since I’m the one who—”

“It’s not wasteful, it’s sensible. It’s also a sort of protection for you. I won’t always be around to toss crazed inventors and scheming cheapjacks out in the street.” He finished his wine and set the glass on the window ledge. “People will come to realize that there’s no point in mobbing you in the streets. And without their pitiful harangues and long-faced pleas, you’ll be able to make clearer-headed decisions about the inventions you do buy. Agreed?”

“Well … I suppose …”

Leaning over to catch her glass on a finger, he lifted it toward her lips, urging her to drink. She took one sip, then sensing the support it could provide, quickly finished the entire glass.

“Good.” He took her goblet and set it aside with his. “And one more point.” He slid toward her and noted with some satisfaction that she didn’t flee.

“Yes?” She looked up with a jumble of emotions swirling in her eyes, not the least of which was fear. It stunned him momentarily. He’d never seen her quail at anything. She was always stubborn and self-possessed and quick with a smart retort. But just now, in those arresting blue orbs he glimpsed a weakness in her internal fortress, a vulnerability in those impenetrable walls.

She didn’t know what to expect from him, from any man. She was about to surrender a part of her self she hadn’t known existed until recently. She was about to put her body as well as her fortunes in his hands. Something softened in the center of his chest. Whatever the future brought them, whatever happened between them after this, he vowed to see that she would have nothing to regret in this night.

“Robbie.” He ran a single finger along her shoulder.

“Robbie?” Her voice was small and distracted. A positive sign.

“Only one dessert. And only if he’s earned it.” He watched goose bumps rise under her skin and he leaned close enough to inhale her warmth and roselike scent on every breath. “And no more of those lacy collars, or fat-legged riding breeches, or velvet knee pants.”

“But he looks so—”

“Silly. He looks like a damned sissy in-n—” His voice split and after a moment proceeded in a much lower register “I have to say … you have much better taste in
nightgowns than in boys’ riding gear. This one’s nothing short of spectacular.” When she grabbed up the drooping neckline, he gathered her anxious gaze into his, took hold of the fabric below her hands, and slowly pulled it back down.

“Very nice goods,” he said softly. “Wouldn’t want to rumple it.”

Her grip on the gown loosened, and after a moment, she released it. Still holding her gaze in his, he continued pulling downward. On the lower periphery of his vision he watched the fabric slide down her chest and expose the top of one of her breasts. Sliding his fingers over that silky mound with its crinkled velvet tip, he watched the shock of his touch register in her eyes.

When she raised her hand, he intercepted it, thinking that she would try to push his hand away. To his surprise, she directed it instead to his bare chest. The feel of her cool fingers gliding along his overheated skin carried a galvanic shock that slowly damped into tingles of pleasure. For a time they sat touching, caressing each other in the same way, reading in each other’s eyes the sensual charge building between them.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, lowering his gaze.

“Please, Bear—”

When he looked up again, her eyes were filled with renewed tension.

“Don’t look,” she whispered.

“But there’s nothing to be—”

“Please—” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Not that.”

He frowned, but nodded and released her. She caught his hand and directed it back to her breast, where hers closed over it, forcing it tighter around that warm resilient mound. Her lashes fluttered in response. When his fingers
tightened on her nipple, he both heard and felt her breath catch in her throat.

Her fingers explored his breast the same way and he experienced the same heart-stopping jolt of pleasure. It was all he needed. He felt for the ties of her dressing gown and soon her night clothes lay in a pool around her waist.

She forced his shirt up over his shoulders and then down his arms, mirroring his action and his touch. Embracing, chest to chest, sensitive tips pressed against sensitive mounds … each watched excitement building in the other’s eyes. Then he lowered his head and brushed her lips with his.

The flames those glancing kisses ignited in her depths were visible through her passion-darkened eyes. Again and again, from every conceivable orientation, they touched lips lightly to lips and savored the reward of restraint, lingering in delicious expectation on the edge of pleasure. His hands slid down her sides to her waist, tracing her curves. Her hands slid down his back and dipped beneath the waist of his trousers, tracing the pillars of muscle that supported his frame.

The erotic taboo she had established between them seemed to heighten his other senses. His hands registered every inch of her skin as his eyes could not, giving him a new appreciation of the sensuality of texture and shape. In some places she was pure silk, in others fine new down, in still others she felt like the richest cream. He breathed in the fragrance of her hair and moistening skin and groaned softly as those scents went straight into his blood.

Unable to wait any longer, she wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths. He pulled her half-naked form against him, unleashing the desire he had held in check. Deeper and deeper they sank in an intimate whirl of pleasure. As they sank back into the pillows, he banged his shoulder on the window frame and roused
enough to pull her upright and onto her knees. Her garments fell away as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the waiting bed. In seconds, his trousers joined them on the floor and he was sinking onto the bed and into her welcoming arms.

As his kisses began to wander, she reminded him of her request by closing his eyes with her fingertips. Quivering, she felt his mouth at her breast and his tongue laving her with slow, wet velvet strokes. It was as if his kisses were dissolving her skin, baring her nerves and sinews to him. She writhed softly, yielding to the gentle invasion of her thighs and accepting his weight with a moan that seemed to come from beyond herself … somewhere in the purest feminine, somewhere in the depths of existence itself.

He threaded his fingers through hers and dragged their hands above her head, looking only into her eyes as he flexed his body above hers and raked her most sensitive flesh with his own. When she began to meet his thrusts with instinctive motions, he pulled back and began the joining of their bodies.

Her heart seemed to stop as her flesh yielded to him. The stinging quickly subsided, muting into a delicious heat and fullness in a part of her she had never experienced as empty until now. And when they lay fully joined, the joy she felt in claiming this part of him—this part of herself—was beyond anything she had experienced.

He began to move rhythmically, slowly at first and carefully, gauging his effect by her expressions. As she grew more accustomed to his presence, his movement pushed her through a succession of new intensities … deepened, heightened, and broadened perception. She felt as if she were rising and expanding through endless new realms of pleasure. The wonder of it was that he seemed to be
there, as well, mingled with her awareness of self, joined and yet somehow still joining with her.

Then, just as she felt herself approaching some unknown limit, some new and significant portal of sensation, she felt him stiffen, arch, and shudder, his face a mask of pleasure so intense it mimicked pain. Moments later, he collapsed over her, panting for breath, nuzzling and kissing her, his skin damp and his face hot with satisfaction.

Through the steam cooling in her head, she managed to realize that what had happened between them was “it.” The act of procreation. The way of married love. Her wifely “duty.” It was perfectly wonderful. She looked over at him and saw nothing but pleasure and wonder in his handsome features. With a smile, she surrendered to exhaustion.

Some time later she awakened to a feeling of warmth and closeness. When she opened her eyes, Bear was lying beside her, propped up on his arm, looking at her with a softness that warmed her all the way to her toes. But as she turned to better view him, his gaze dipped to her bare breasts and hers followed.

“Oh!” She sprang up, reaching for a sheet to cover herself, but he held her by the waist to prevent it.

“I’ve already seen all there is to see, sweetheart. Taken a detailed inventory.” Chuckling, he overcame her resistance and drew her back down into his arms. “I’m one very lucky man.”

She felt herself going crimson, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. “Really, McQuaid—”

“Bear.” He grinned at her desperate attempts at propriety.

“Really, Bear, I’m not at all accustomed to—”

“Lying buck naked with a man after hot and heavy loving? I would think not.” His copper eyes heated with a rekindled flame. “You’re probably even less accustomed to
a man nibbling your skin”—he demonstrated on the side of her neck, heedless of her gasp—“and caressing your breasts”—he did that, too—“and wrapping his legs around you.” She should probably have been appalled by the weight of his thigh across her abdomen, but it recalled the delicious heaviness of his body on hers in the hours just past and served as prelude to a stream of shocking but irresistible memories.

“Ple-e-ease …” She seized his hand and held it still.

“Please what? Continue? Stop?” A twinkle appeared in his eye. “It’s simple, sweetheart. If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say the word.”

“What word?”

“ ‘No.’ ” He leaned over her and gently squeezed the corners of her mouth, making her lips move. “Come on, you can say it.
No-o-o
.”

She remained stubbornly silent for a minute, glaring up at him. “I don’t respond well to brute force,” she said through her puckered lips.

“Then what do you respond to?” Craftiness crept into his expression as he released her. “Ah, yes, it’s coming back to me.” He lowered his head and tongued and nibbled the tip of her breast, bringing it to aching prominence.

“Ohhh—” Her breath caught and she pushed at his shoulders, struggling against both his determination and her own debilitating pleasure. When she ceased pushing, he raised his head. She had caught her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes were dark and luminous.

“Just say no.”

“What a beast you are,” she said, fighting back an embarrassed smile.

“A hungry beast.” He grinned. “A beast who knows only one word. And it’s not ‘don’t,’ or ‘stop,’ or ‘whoa.’ ’ He
nuzzled her nipple again and then blazed a trail of hot, moist breath down the center of her stomach.

“What are you—ohhhh …”

“Such delicious curves.”

She watched as long as she dared, stunned equally by the sight of him making free with her naked body and by the pleasure it gave her. When he veered to the crest of her hip, she jerked her gaze away and grabbed the sheet.

“And hips. And legs—long, cool thighs. Such shapely knees,” he murmured … kissing, tickling, and nuzzling his way down her body.

“Ohhh, Bear—”

“Just say no,” he said with a laugh.

“Strong, smooth calves. Small ankles. Pretty little feet.”

“My feet are not little,” she said through a half-stifled whimper of delight, curling her toes and twisting her ankles to evade his shocking adoration. Every nerve in her body seemed to be crying out with either pleasure or need. Pushed beyond modesty and decorum and half past sanity as well, she finally sat up, seized him by the shoulders, and pulled him up onto the bed on top of her.

“Enough,” she commanded in low, provocative tones.

“But you haven’t learned to say no, yet.” He grinned and brushed her hair back, stroking her face in the same motion.

“If you really want to teach me that blasted word, you’ll have better luck if you try something that I
don’t
want you to do.”

She absorbed his laugh in her kiss, and together they tumbled into a sensual exploration that was by turns fiery and playful. This loving was so different from the last—so direct and frankly experimental—that she could scarcely believe it was the same act.

He rolled onto his back carrying her with him and she found herself nestled between his legs and exploring his
body much the same as he had hers. When she had memorized his long legs and sculptured belly and muscular shoulders, she sat up, astride him, to study the way his dark hair, tanned skin, and molten copper eyes looked against the white of the sheets. Even relaxed and wearing a suggestive grin, there was no missing the physical power and personal force latent in every angle and attitude of his body. He was leashed potential. A being of infinite complexity and capacity. Beautiful. Enthralling.

“Love me, Bear,” she whispered, voicing the desire filling her being.

He arched his back and dumped her over onto the bed.

“I will,” he whispered into her hair. “I do.”

In seconds, he was sliding into that seductive wedge between her thighs. From there it was only a few long, sweet strokes before he was sinking into the lush welcome of her body.

Once again she felt herself expanding and escaping the limitations of experience and expectation. In this place, she felt no rules, no obstacles, no boundaries. They joined without reserve, sharing self, sensations, and pleasure … obeying only their desires … content to let the flow of passion carry them ever higher.

She arrived again at a now familiar but uncrossed threshold where time slowed and existence expanded infinitely. For a moment she floated, suspended and breathless. Then she crashed through that fragile sensory boundary, into a maelstrom of pleasure and release. For the second time that night, she felt in the depths of her being old patterns and old desires being swept away, replaced by a new sense of order, new hope for the future, and a heart full of newborn love.