Ultimately, she nodded. “Yes, Nicholas, whatever you need, I’m glad to give it to you.”
At her capitulation, he should have been elated, but he wasn’t. His conscience was railing at him, shouting that he was a scoundrel, but he couldn’t listen. He felt as if he was in a runaway carriage, that he couldn’t slow it down or alter its course. He could only hold on through the wild ride.
“Promise me,” he pleaded, “that you’ll never be sorry.”
“I never will be. I promise.”
“Promise me that—no matter what happens in the future—you’ll always cherish this memory.”
“I always will.”
Sentiment swept over him, and suddenly, he was terribly conflicted. Though he owed her no fidelity, it seemed as if he was cheating on her, being disloyal for hiding his situation with Veronica.
He was on the verge of changing his mind, but she must have sensed his anguish.
“It will be all right, Nicholas,” she gently soothed.
“I couldn’t bear to hurt you.”
“You never will.”
She pulled him to her, and she started their next race to ecstasy by initiating a stirring kiss in which he gleefully participated. He used her fervor to her detriment, persuading himself that she was eager for what was coming. They were both keen to proceed. They would both be better off after they were through.
He aroused her, his hands roaming, his mouth nibbling, until she was once more on the brink of bliss. Baring his flanks, he tugged down his trousers, his torso dropping between her thighs. He took his cock and wedged the tip into her sheath.
At the peculiar positioning, she tensed and frowned.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to join my body to yours, remember?”
“Are you sure this is the correct way?”
Her innocent question underscored the depravity of his conduct, but he ignored his reservations.
“Yes, I’m sure this is correct.” He wedged in a tad farther. “It will hurt—just for a moment. Then it will feel grand.”
“It doesn’t feel grand now.”
“It will. Trust me.”
“You know I don’t.”
She smiled a smile that was old and wise, as if she knew something he didn’t. He glanced away and dipped to her breasts, laving them, nursing at them, until her pleasure rose and crested.
As her orgasm commenced, as she cried out, he clutched her hips and thrust once and again, and burst through her maidenhead.
“Oh . . .” she breathed, and she hugged him very tight.
He drew away slightly, and he was aghast to see tears in her eyes.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t—”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“Are you certain?”
“The pain is waning—as you told me it would.”
“It will be over in a minute.”
“It already is.”
He’d never lain with a virgin before, so he hadn’t understood how monumental the episode would be. Mustering all his fortitude, he held himself very still, waiting while she acclimated.
Her hot maiden’s blood was urging him to finish, and as she relaxed the tiniest bit, he began to flex. He was much too rough, pushing in all the way, then retreating to the tip, and the encounter escalated much too quickly. He couldn’t slow the approaching rush.
The most alarming explosion of passion flooded his loins, and he couldn’t tamp it down. He’d planned to do the sane thing, the rational thing, and withdraw at the last second, but he’d never been so titillated, and he recklessly emptied himself against her womb.
With a shudder, he ground to a halt and slid away. He snuggled her onto her side, and he spooned himself to her back.
They were silent, with him running a hand up and down her arm and thigh. He was very attuned to her, and he could sense her roiling emotions. He might have probed her thoughts, but he’d rutted like a beast, and he was afraid of what she might say.
Eventually, she murmured, “It was different than I imagined it would be.”
“In what way?”
“I didn’t realize it was so . . . physical. I assumed it would be . . . I don’t know . . . more romantic, I guess.”
He winced. “It can be very romantic. I simply didn’t do it very well. You entice me beyond my limit. I couldn’t control myself.”
“I didn’t want you to control yourself.”
“It gets better with repetition.”
They were quiet for another lengthy interval, then she asked, “I’m not a virgin anymore, am I?”
“No.”
“Could I be with child?”
“It can’t happen from just one time,” he claimed, not having any idea why he’d lie.
For an insane instant, he almost wished she was pregnant. He could picture the little girl they’d create. She’d have Emeline’s big green eyes and pretty blond hair. Or perhaps it would be a boy with his handsome looks, attitude, and swagger. But he shoved the poignant vision aside.
He was betrothed and would be married very soon, and while he didn’t care about Veronica, he wasn’t such a tactless brute that he’d sire an illegitimate bastard shortly before the ceremony. In wedding him, Veronica would have to put up with a great deal, but he wouldn’t make her put up with that. It wouldn’t be fair to her or Emeline.
So Emeline couldn’t be increasing. He was the master of his world. He would command it away, and it would never transpire.
His hand rested on her waist. She clasped hold and linked their fingers, giving his a squeeze.
“This was for the best, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Of course it was.”
“It changed everything. We can be together now.”
“Yes, we can,” he agreed. He was too drowsy to decipher what she meant. Carnal lethargy was sweeping him away, so he was in no mood to chat.
“We’ll go forward, as I’d hoped we would.” She paused, and with a hitch in her voice—was she crying?—she said, “Are you happy?”
“Yes, Em, I’m very happy.”
“I’m so glad I’m yours. Yours forever.”
“Mine forever,” he concurred.
Her breathing lagged, her body relaxing, as slumber approached.
“You can’t stay in here,” she mumbled.
“I won’t. I’ll wait until you doze off, then I’ll leave.”
She gave his fingers a final squeeze, but no more words were spoken.
The quiet settled in, the air
