His hands remained clenched in a white knuckle grip at his sides, and she could see the muscles in his legs, his arms and shoulders, his jaw and neck flexing, straining with the effort he expended to remain still. Spellbound, she wrapped her fingers around him and gently squeezed.
“Victoria…” Her name ended on a low moan. She squeezed him again, then brushed the pad of her thumb over the velvety engorged head.
“Done.” The word was a tortured groan that sounded wrenched from his throat. He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands from him. “Damn it,
Before she could so much as draw a breath, he yanked her against him and crushed his mouth to hers. But no breath would have been deep enough, no preparation thorough enough, for the onslaught of this kiss. Where during their picnic he’d barely touched her, now he seemed to touch her everywhere, head to toe, his arms clasping her to him so tightly she could feel his heat, his strength, through her clothing all the way down to her feet. He kissed her as if he wanted to devour her, and she clung to his shoulders, ready, willing, desperate to be devoured, reveling in every nuance of his tongue exploring her mouth with such fevered, passionate perfection.
With a moan of pure pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her again and again, drugging meldings of lips, breath, and tongues, reducing her to a tiny boat adrift in a fierce storm, desperately trying to stay afloat in the sea of sensation drowning her.
Utterly lost, she strained closer to him, plunging her fingers through his still damp hair, pressing her aching breasts against his chest, overheated, burning. Wanting. Needing.
She squirmed against him and he changed tempo, gentling their wild, frantic exchange to a slow, deep, languid seduction that pulled her deeper into the vortex of dizzying need. His hands roamed freely down her back, up her sides, then between them to caress her breasts. She arched into his palms, a silent plea he instantly answered. One warm hand slipped into her bodice, his fingers, his magical fingers, stroking one aching nipple, then the other, shooting fire straight to her womb.
Abandoning her lips, he kissed his way down her neck, then also deserted her bodice, skimming his hands down her back. Cool air touched her overheated limbs and she realized he’d lifted her skirt, the material bunched around her waist. With nothing but her linen drawers now between them, he insinuated one knee between hers and she willingly spread her legs wider, seeking to press her aching feminine flesh against him. Cupping her buttocks, the heat of his palms branding her through the thin material, he urged her higher, tighter against him, guiding her hips in slow circles against his hard thigh.
Victoria’s head fell back and a long moan of pure pleasure vibrated in her throat. She was vaguely aware of him kissing her neck, of her hands gripping his bare shoulders, but all her focus narrowed to the throbbing flesh between her legs. To the incredible sensations jolting through her with each circle of her hips from his guiding hands. He increased the pace, and her breath became ragged, choppy, her hips undulating, pressing harder against him, more desperate, seeking relief, moving closer to the precipice of something… something…
And then it was as if she soared over the edge and dove into a whirlpool of sensation. Pleasure spasmed through her, dragging a surprised cry from her lips that melted into a low growling sound as the tremors tapered off, then subsided. Weak with a delightful, boneless languor, she leaned forward, grateful for the support of his strong arms around her. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead in the curve where his neck and shoulder met and drew a deep breath. Her head filled with the scent of his skin-a warm, delicious, heady scent she couldn’t describe other than to know that it intoxicated her. And that she would never forget it.
When her breathing evened and she felt able to move, she lifted her head. And stared into his serious gold- flecked hazel eyes. Dear God, the way he’d made her feel… she’d read about a woman’s pleasure in the
She felt a pressing need to say something, to acknowledge what had just happened to her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of any words befitting the occasion. No doubt in a week or two she’d think of something brilliant, but right now all she could find to say was, “Nathan.”
His expression softened and the ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Victoria.” He gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Are you all right?”
She briefly closed her eyes and released a long, feminine sigh. “I’m… marvelous. Except for my knees. I seem to have misplaced them.”
His grin flashed, then he brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” She rested her palm against his cheek. “You… dazzled me. Stole my breath.”
“As you stole mine. And dazzled me.” After dropping a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, he said, “I’ll get dressed so we can look for your knees.” He gently released her, and her upraised skirts unfurled like the curtain coming down after the opera. When he bent to retrieve his clothing, Victoria knew she should turn away to afford him some privacy, but she simply couldn’t tear her gaze from him. And surely she should feel some remorse, a flicker of shame, but all she felt was exhilaration. If she felt bad about anything, it was that this interlude was over.
As she watched him pull on his breeches, she couldn’t help but notice his still aroused state. Clearing her throat, she said, “You allowed me great freedom with your body.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“And mine as well.”
He shrugged into his shirt and smiled. “I’m glad.”
“You, um, didn’t take the same degree of liberties with me.”
“An effort that cost me greatly, I assure you.”
“May I ask why you… made such an effort?”
He halted in the act of fastening his shirt, and his gaze sharpened. “Are you asking me why I didn’t make love to you?”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. “I’m wondering why you didn’t touch me as I touched you.”
“It’s the same question, because if I had touched you in that way, we absolutely would have made love.”
“And you didn’t want that.”
His brows shot up. “On the contrary, I believe it was painfully obvious that I did. Not making love to you was solely a result of me considering you, not myself.” Leaving his shirt flapping open, he erased the distance between them. Lightly clasping her upper arms, his gaze searched hers. “Victoria, surely you realize that if we were to make love, I risk nothing, whereas you risk everything. Regardless of what else you may think of me, I am not a man to simply take pleasure without thought to the consequences. And to be brutally blunt, the time to ponder such decisions is not when one is sexually aroused or basking in the afterglow of pleasure.” His fingers flexed on her arms. “Something happens to me when I touch you…” He shook his head. “… hell, something happens to me when I’m in the same room as you. You impair my control. My good judgment.”
A thrill ran through her at his admission. “There is no point in me denying that I suffer from the same ‘something’ as you.”
Any thought that her admission would please him vanished with the troubled look in his eyes. “Then there is much for you to consider. And it’s best that we return to the house now.”
Releasing her, he stepped away to finish dressing. With a start she realized that it had grown quite late, the shadows of the approaching dusk an obscuring gray under the dense cover of trees. She brushed the wrinkles from her gown and repaired as best she could the havoc his hands had wreaked on her hair. When they both finished, he extended his arm with a courtly flourish, indicating she should precede him on the narrow trail leading back to the main path. As she moved past him, however, he reached out and snagged her hand, raising it to his lips. Although the light kiss he brushed over the backs of her fingers could be described as proper, there was nothing proper about the wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Just so you know, Victoria,” he said, his warm breath caressing her skin, “regardless of what other decisions might be made, I fully intend to have my revenge for the sweet torture I endured this afternoon at your hands. And I shall have it when you least expect it.”
