A single kiss and yet, when he finally called a stop, they were both shaking with raw desire.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck and tried to regain his senses. He took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaled her wonderful light fragrance, and became more intoxicated by her. God, she was perfect. She felt so good, so right in his arms.
' Harrison, I can't breathe very well. You'll have to move a little.'
He was on top of her. How in God's name had that happened? His arms were wrapped around her waist. He hadn't remembered putting them there. He had to take her with him when he rolled to his side so he could pull his hands free.
His lack of control appalled him. And yet he still held on to her. His knee was wedged between her thighs. He couldn't feel her skin through the fabric of his pants, but he knew she was silky everywhere. It made him even harder thinking about it.
Her arms were wrapped around his neck. Her fingers were driving him to distraction because she was still stroking him.
She leaned up and kissed his chin. She tried to let go of him. It was the decent thing to do, given their circumstances. She couldn't make herself behave, though. He felt too wonderful against her.
She tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes. 'Could we please sleep like this? We'll stay warm,' she promised. 'Just for a little while?'
He kissed the top of her forehead. 'Just for a little while,' he agreed.
She leaned back so she could look at him when she whispered her goodnight. She stared into his eyes, saw the tenderness there, and felt her heartbeat quicken in reaction. 'Your eyes have turned as dark as night. You're a very handsome man.'
His hands moved to cup the sides of her face. 'And you're a very beautiful woman.'
His thumb rubbed across her lips. They were rosy and swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were still misty with passion, and, God help him, he couldn't stop himself from kissing her again.
'You are so amazingly soft,' he whispered a scant second before his mouth settled on top of hers. It was hard, demanding, incredibly arousing. Passion ignited within each of them. She was every bit as wild as he was in her bid to explore the taste and texture of him.
His hands caressed her neck, her shoulders, then moved lower until he was cupping her sweet backside. She moved restlessly against him. Her pelvis pressed against his knee. A surge of pleasure poured over her. He angled his head to the side and kissed her again, then shifted his position. He moved his knee away and gently forced her to straddle him. He pressed his groin against the junction of her thighs, caught her gasp with his mouth, and growled with his pleasure. He was mindless now to everything but pleasing her.
Passion flowed between them with an intensity of white-hot lightning. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. His hand slipped beneath the flannel shirt to caress her more intimately. He pushed the light fabric of her chemise out of his way and boldly took one full breast into his hand. His thumb rubbed across her nipple again and again, until it had become a hard nub ready for his mouth to devour.
She loved the way he caressed her. She moaned and arched up against his hand, silently pleading for more.
She never wanted to let go of him. She craved his closeness, the tenderness in the way he held her. She could feel his strength in the corded muscles under her fingertips and glorified in the knowledge that with each of her own gentle caresses, she gave him as much pleasure as he gave her. His nonsensical, sweet, loving words against her ear told her so.
She was overwhelmed by him. She knew he had enough strength to crush her, yet also knew he would give up his life to keep her safe. She tasted the saltiness in his skin as she placed wet kisses along the column of his neck, inhaled his male scent, entwined now with her own, and heard his heart beating wildly and in perfect harmony with her own racing heartbeat.
His caresses became more demanding, for her soft whispers of pleasure drove him now. He became desperate to get closer to her heat, to touch and stroke what he most wanted to possess. His hand moved down between her thighs, and he shuddered with yet another burst of uncontrollable passion. Her skin was as silky and sweet as he knew it would be. His fingers slipped underneath her clothing and found her at last. When he touched her and felt the warm dampness in her soft curls, he forgot all about holding on to his discipline. He stroked the fire inside her and burned with his own. His fingers brushed across the very spot he knew would drive her wild. He nearly came undone when she arched up against him and let out a soft cry of ecstasy.
He wasn't going to stop. He started to undo the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking so much he could barely get the top one unhooked.
She felt his hard arousal pressed against her, and yet she didn't become afraid or worried. In her heart she knew he would stop touching her the minute she asked him to.
Her trust in Harrison was absolute. He was an honorable man. He would do whatever she asked of him, as long as it was honorable.
Dear God, what was she asking of him now? Wasn't he going to sacrifice his honor to please her?
She was sickened with shame. She didn't know if she had the power to destroy him, but she cared about him too much to risk the possibility.
She went completely still and squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't be able to cry.
'We have to stop now.'
Her voice was a ragged whisper against the side of his neck. The words registered in his mind almost immediately. It took him a little longer to react.
And then he let out a loud, shaky breath, clenched his jaw tight, and forced himself to move away from her. It almost killed him.
The physical agony of his own frustration, and his stupidity, made him furious. What in God's name had he been thinking? Lust had driven him beyond any semblance of control. He hadn't been thinking at all. No woman had ever been able to get to him the way Mary Rose did. She was different all right, and dangerous.
She was having trouble catching her breath. The second Harrison had rolled away from her, she felt abandoned, alone. She shook with cold and with regret. Her shameful conduct humiliated her. No man had ever touched her so intimately. He had stroked her breasts, her belly, her backside, her… Oh, God, she was out of her mind. She couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes.
What if she hadn't asked him to stop? She knew the answer. He would marry her.
The thought didn't please her. No, it horrified her. Because of his integrity he would do the right thing. God only knew, he was used to the weight of responsibility. His shoulders should be stooped by now, for she knew he'd been carrying obligations from the time he'd been just a little boy. Responsibility had robbed him of his childhood.
She wasn't about to take anything more from him. She felt sick to her stomach and almost doubled over with her guilt. Trapping a man into marriage with lust was beyond shameful. It was unforgivable.
She sat up with her back toward Harrison and stared at the wall while she straightened her blankets. Her hair was hanging down over her face. She impatiently brushed it back and only then realized her hands were still shaking.
She knew she had to say something to him, offer him some sort of apology or explanation for her behavior, but she couldn't seem to find the right words to convey to him her feelings. Nothing she came up with seemed to be even barely adequate.
Harrison couldn't get comfortable. He sat up, moved back, and then leaned against the stone wall. He let the frigid rock cool his shoulders.
He still burned for her. He could taste her in his mouth and tried not to think about how good she'd been, how sweet and hot, and wet and…
'Hell.' The word came out in a low groan.
She turned to look at him. He was staring at her. The coldness in his eyes shamed her even more than her own guilt.
He continued to stare at her for a long minute, until he realized she was making him hard again. Her eyes were still misty with passion, and her lips were swollen from his kisses. He'd scratched her face with his whiskers. He found the marks aroused him too. He knew that if he pulled her back into his arms, he would inhale his own scent.
