An English Lord's Love Affair

Chapter 14.5.1. Desperately Human

   He could not satisfy his senses fast enough with the offering before him. The sound of her beguiling voice. The velvet softness of her skin. The secret hollows of her body. He wanted to experience it all at once, to submerge himself in pure Charlotte and yet to take her slowly, savoring every moment they had together.

   There was not enough time to sate his craving for her. There would never be enough time.

   He knew they dared not disturb the sleeping household. Their sense of caution seemed only to enhance the sexual mood, to heighten the sharp pleasure of every touch. She was a woman worth whatever risk he must take to have her. Strong, beautiful, and caring.

   He stretched out alongside her on the bed. The anticipation in her lovely blue eyes intensified his desire for her.

   "You drive me mad, Charlotte," he said with a rueful shake of his head.

   Her smile tantalized him. "You were mad when I met you."

   He gathered her soft, warm body in his arms. "Well, I'm a raving lunatic now."

   She caressed the powerful line of his shoulder with her fingertips. "What does that make me?"

   He forced her back down onto the pillows. "Mine." She was liquid fire beneath his hard, aroused body. Soft and fierce. He wanted to explore, to exploit her sexual weaknesses to bring her pleasures she had never known.

   "I cannot take another moment of this," she murmured. "You're a cruel man, Benedic."

   He blew the slightest breath across her taut belly. He meant to show her just how cruel and kind a lover he could be. Of course it was a game that could all too easily backfire. "Be patient," he whispered against her soft flesh, when he wasn't sure that he could hold out much longer himself. His sex strained against the inside of her sleek thigh, heavy and engorged with blood.

   Loving Charlotte reminded him just how desperately human he really was. His desire for her brought out not so much his strengths as his vulnerabilities. How could he explain, without sounding like an utter fool, that being with her gave him the courage to return to his dark prison? Without his fantasies of her to fill in his bleakest hours, he would lose his mind. Could she possibly understand that she alone had proven the antidote for the hatred and despair that threatened to destroy him?

   He was ravenous of her.

   She had the body of a siren, plush pink-tipped breasts and rounded hips that invited thoughts of sex. The fragrance of her inflamed his senses. Soap, fresh air, and musky sweet arousal. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs and breathe her perfume into his lungs.

   "Dominic?" she whispered, her sexy blue eyes mirroring his hunger and confusion.

   He stared at her. She was so ready, do lush for the taking. He wanted to make love to her with a desire that made his body burn like a torch, but he hated the thought of not being able to stay with her afterward, of being denied the privilege of holding her through the night. He wanted all of her. He wanted an intimacy that went beyond a sexual act.

   "Why do you look at me like that, Benedic?" she asked in an undertone.

   He drew a breath, parting the soaked curls between her thighs with his thumb. She went perfectly still as he pressed up against the tender bud of her sex. She was already sensitive to his touch. Pleased at her response, he slipped his fingers into the swollen folds of her labia. Her eyes drifted shut in drugged enjoyment.

   He bent his head to kiss her, tasted the pleased gasp she gave as his fingers quickened their movements. She was the sweetest thing he had ever touched. Tight. Creamy wet. He shuddered at the thought of being gloved inside her tight woman's body, of sinking into her heated depths. By the time he brought her to a climax, he was so desperate for relief that he was practically rubbing himself against the bed. She was made for passion.

   "What are you waiting for?" she whispered as the last contraction ebbed from her body.

   He leaned down to kiss her pouting mouth again. "Do you really want to give yourself to a man like me?" He asked softly.

   "Only to a man like you," she said without hesitation.

   He closed his eyes. "You honor me, Charlotte."

   "I don't want to honor you, you scoundrel. I want you to . . . to finish what you started. Benedic, for God's sake, have a little mercy. I have never felt like this before."

   "My God, I hope not." The thought was intolerable to him. If he had met her before his life had fallen apart, he had no doubt he would be approaching her brothers for her hand. "Charlotte," he said, the intensity of his expression easing, "you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'm afraid the same does not hold true in reverse."

   "You're wrong," she whispered. "And you aren't going to change my mind."

   "God help me," he said in a low voice. "I don't intend to."

   She watched his face as he rose up onto his knees and pushed her pale legs apart, exposing the wet crevice of her womanhood. He drew a sharp breath. He was so hard he feared he might explode before he even entered her.

   He made a hoarse sound of pleasure deep in his throat as he positioned his shaft against the entrance of her drenched sheath. She felt like bliss, but she was right inside, and he was afraid he would tear her, so fierce was his need.

   "I'll try not to hurt you," he said, and lowered his head to kiss her.

  He felt her tense at the powerful thrust that drove him into the depths of her body. He could feel stretching her, forcing himself past her maidenhead, but it was too late to stop. His mind emptied. His kiss muffled the soft gasp she gave. When she began to relax a little, he whispered against her mouth, "Wrap your arms around me. It doesn't always hurt. It won't last."

   "It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

   "God, no. It's heaven."

   He withdrew from her only to sink back inside with a slow forceful thrust. He felt her quiver, but she didn't tighten against the invasion, and then he was oblivious to everything except his own need, his urgent quest for relief. She moved slightly, meeting his movements.

   "Charlotte," he said, his arms straining to hold his weight, "you feel so good."

   "So . . . do you"

   That was all it took to push him over the edge. Those three erotic words. His body stiffed; he slammed into her one final time, a climax wrung from the depths of his shuddering body. He felt as if he would flood her, as if he would come forever. When it was over, he sank down beside her and wrapped her in his arms, gripping her so tightly he suspected he was hurting her. She said nothing. If she felt like him, it probably took all her energy to breathe.