muscles of his back, then he turned and picked up the candlestick.
Sprawled, breathless, across his bed, Honoria watched as he set flame to the two five-armed candelabra upon the mantelpiece. Concentrating on each graceful movement, on the play of the flames over his sculpted frame, she held back her thoughts, too scandalous for words. Anticipation had soared; excitement shivered over her skin. Her lungs had seized; a delicious panic had tightened every nerve.
Leaving the single candle on the mantelpiece, Devil carried one candelabra to the side of the bed, tugging the bedside table forward so that the candles' light fell across the covers. Blinking, aware that in the light she'd appear next to naked, Honoria watched as he placed the second candelabra similiarly on the bed's opposite side. She frowned. 'Isn't it usually night? I mean dark?'
Devil met her gaze. 'You've forgotten something.'
Honoria couldn't think what and wasn't sure she cared; her gaze roamed his chest as he walked toward the bed, bathed in golden light. He stopped by her feet, then turned and sat. While he pulled off his boots, she distracted herself with his back. His cuts and scrapes had healed; she reached out a hand and traced one. His skin flickered at her touch; he muttered something beneath his breath. Honoria grinned and spread her fingers-he stood, casting one black glance back at her before stripping off his trousers. He sat to pull them free of his feet; Honoria stared at the long, broad muscles framing his spine, tailing into twin hollows below his waist. He reached, and muscles shifted; the view was almost as good as his chest.
Free of his last restriction, Devil half turned and fell back on the bed. He knew what would happen-Honoria didn't. With a valiantly smothered shriek, she rolled into him, into his arms, unable to gain any purchase on the slippery sheets. He lifted her over him, her legs tangling with his, her hair fanning over his naked chest.
He expected her to be shocked, expected her to hesitate-this had to be the first time she'd touched a naked male. The shock was certainly there-he saw it in her stunned expression; hesitation followed-it lasted a split second.
In the next, their lips met-there was no longer any distinction between him kissing her and her kissing him. He felt her hands on his chest, greedily exploring; he ravaged her mouth-and felt her fingers sink deep. He spread his hands over the firm mounds of her derriere and held her against him, easing the throbbing ache of his erection against her soft belly. She writhed, heated and eager, thin silk no barrier to his senses.
Some women were catlike, elusively seductive-she was far too bold to be a cat. She was demanding, aggressive, intent on, not just fraying his reins, but shredding them. Deliberately invoking his desire, his demons- all the possessiveness in his soul. Which, given she was a virgin, qualified as abject madness.
Breathing raggedly, he pulled back from their kiss. 'For God's sake, slow down!'
Engrossed in caressing one flat nipple, Honoria didn't look up. 'I'm twenty-four-I've wasted enough time.'
She wriggled; Devil gritted his teeth. 'You're twenty-four-you should know better. You should at least have some measure of self-preservation.' Intent on impaling herself on her fate, she seemed to have no concept of how much he could hurt her, of how much his strength overshadowed hers, of how much harder than her he was.
She was intent on learning-her hands reached lower, exploring the ridges of his lower chest. Devil felt desire rise, full-blown, ravenous-too strong for her to handle. Releasing her buttocks, he grasped her upper arms.
Just as she grasped him.
The shock that lanced through him nearly shattered his control. He froze. So did Honoria.
She looked into his face-his eyes were shut, his expression graven. Carefully, she curled her fingers again, utterly fascinated by her discovery. How could something so hard, so rigid, so ridged, so blatantly, elementally male, be so silky smooth, so soft? Again, she touched the smoothly rounded head-it was akin to stroking hot steel through the finest peach silk.
Devil groaned; he reached down and closed his hand over hers-not to pull it away but to curl her fingers more tightly. Eagerly, she followed his unspoken instructions, obviously much more to her taste than slowing down.
He let her caress him until he thought his jaw would break-he had to pull her hand away. She fought him, squirming all over him, soft, hot, silk-encased flesh writhing over his by-now-painful erection.
With an oath, he caught her hands, one in each of his, and rolled, trapping her beneath him. He anchored her hands to the bed and kissed her, deeply and yet more deeply, letting his weight sink fully onto her-until she had no breath left to fight him, no strength to defy him.
They both stilled; in that instant, she was open to him, heated, her thighs spread, soft and welcoming, her hips a cradle in which he already lay. All he needed to do was reach down and rip the thin silk from between them, then sink his throbbing staff into her softness and claim her.
Simple.
Gritting his teeth, Devil let go of her hands and lifted away. He moved back. Knees spread, he sat back on his ankles in the middle of the bed. Locking his eyes on hers, he beckoned with both hands. 'Come here.'
Her eyes widened; they searched his, then fell-jaw locked, he suffered her scrutiny, saw the age-old question form in her eyes.
Giddy, not only from breathlessness, Honoria slowly blinked, then raised her eyes to his face. He looked like some god, seated in the candlelight, his maleness so flagrantly displayed. The soft light gilded the muscles of his arms, his chest-and the rest of him. She drew in a deep breath; her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Slowly, she rose on one elbow, then freed her legs from the folds of her nightgown and came up on her knees, facing him.
He took her hands in his and drew her closer, then closed his hands about her waist and lifted her. As he set her down astride his thighs, Honoria frowned into his eyes. 'If you tell me we have to wait, I'll scream.'
The planes of his face looked harder than granite. 'You'll scream anyway.'
She frowned harder-and saw his lips twitch.
'With pleasure.'
The idea was new to her-she was still puzzling as Devil drew her closer. High on her knees as she was, her hips grazed his lower chest.
'Kiss me.'
He didn't need to ask twice; willingly, she twined her arms about his neck and set her lips to his.
One hand at her back holding her upright, Devil deepened the kiss, skimming his other hand upward, over her taut abdomen, before closing it about her breast. The already heated flesh swelled and firmed; he kneaded and heard her moan. He drew back from the kiss; she let her head fall back, the exposed curve of her throat an offering he didn't refuse. He trailed hot kisses down the pulsing vein; she inched closer, pressing her breast to his palm.
Bending her back, he lowered his head. She stilled, her breathing harried. One long lick dampened the silk covering one nipple. She gasped as his lips touched the niched peak-he suckled lightly and felt her melt.
He couldn't even remember the last time he'd bedded a virgin-even then, whoever she was, she hadn't been a gently reared, twenty-four-year-old capable of unexpected enthusiasms. He harbored no illusions over how difficult the next half hour would be; for the first time in his lengthy career, he prayed he'd be strong enough to manage-her, and the passion she unleashed in him. Head bent, he tortured one tightly budded nipple, then turned his attention to its mate.
Sinking her fingers into his upper arms, Honoria gasped and swayed. With her bones transmuted to warm honey, her weak grip, his hand at her back and the tantalizing tug of his lips were all that was keeping her upright. Hot and wet, his lips, his mouth, moved over her breasts, teasing first one aching peak, then the other until both were swollen tight. She ached to touch him, to send her hands searching, but didn't dare let go. His lips left her; a second later, his teeth grazed one crinkled nipple.
Sharp sensation lanced through her; she gave a muted cry. His lips returned, soothing her flesh, then he suckled hard-and within her heat rose. Wave upon wave, it answered his call, a primal urge building, swelling, surging ever stronger. With a long-drawn moan, she swayed forward, into his kiss.
It caught her, anchored her, as his hands roved her body, heated palms burning. Every curve she possessed, he traced; every square inch of her skin tingled, then ached for more. Her back, her sides, the curve of her stomach, the long muscles of her thighs, her arms, her bottom-none escaped his attention; her skin was flushed, dewed, when he lifted the edge of her gown.
