Before the Dawn (16 page)

Leah's eyes closed.
Lovers.
What would he do when he found out she'd never done this before? The worries went away because she was too busy reacting to the line of juice he was now drawing across the hollow of her throat. He kissed the spot in tender tribute, his tongue potently flicking to taste the skin; she'd never view peaches in the same way again.

As Ryder savored the scents and tastes of her throat, his hands began to wander and explore. The male in him wanted her nude and sighing beneath him right now, but the lover in him wanted to prolong this heated, erotic play for a lifetime. “Stand up for me…” he whispered.

The haze veiling Leah's senses made her move like an automaton. Rising to her feet, she did as he asked and stood pulsing, her lips parted.

“By the Spirits you're beautiful,” he husked out as he drew a finger across her lips. “Will you take off your dress…?”

The honey-filled invitation set off a flare inside Leah that burned so brightly she had to close her eyes. No man had ever asked such a thing of her before, yet while his eyes held her prisoner, her hands went around to the back of her gown and undid the small set of hooks and eyes at the base of her spine. The fabric loosened, giving the watcher a brief glimpse of the fancy black corset she wore beneath. Holding the undone dress to her chest, Leah slid free of one sleeve and then the other.

Ryder smiled sensually. He found her seemingly innocent air highly arousing. The reticence in her movements were an arousing contrast to the passion lidding her eyes. At that moment, Ryder didn't care how many men she'd had before, or who they might have been. All that mattered was that she be his tonight and his alone.

He reached out and gently eased her hand away from her dress. The navy silk swished quietly to the floor, leaving her standing before him in her black corset and dark stockings.
Consciously or not, the corset had been designed to please a man's eyes. It was cut high enough for him to enjoy the rich fullness of her thighs and hips and low enough to burn his gaze over the sweet swells of her ebony breasts. The thin dark stockings encasing her beautiful firm legs were held up by small black garters delicately bordered with a midnight blue lace that mirrored her dress. Filled almost with awe, he etched a finger over the gossamer flesh rising above the corset. “
Seda
…” he whispered thickly. Silk. Her skin was like silk; an exotic, marcasite colored silk.

Leah had no idea what the word meant, but the worshipping intonation filled her with shuddering response.

He pulled her down onto his lap, and Leah could feel his hardness beneath her hips. His big hand cupped her face gently, then slowly circled a cajoling finger over the parted curves of her passion-ripe mouth. Easing her to him, he touched his lips to hers in a series of short, soft kisses that set her ablaze. His lips were gentle yet masterful and filled with an expertise even a novice like Leah could sense. This was not some fumbling youth, but a man knowledgeable in the pleasuring of a woman.

When their lips parted, Leah could feel the rush of her blood, the beat of her heart and the blossoming of her body. His hand came next, trailing down her bare throat and over the raised tops of her breasts, making her moan. He did it again, slower this time, lingering over the edges of the corset where it met her skin, then bending to kiss the hollow above the locket around her neck. As he kissed his way back up to her mouth his hand strayed boldy over her corset-encased breasts.

Without a word, he raised up and moved to untie the corset's black-sateen ribbon. As he worked, his hot fingers brushed against the flesh of her breasts. All thoughts, all fears of her virginity and his reaction were lost in the sensations, the feel of her corset being lazily undone.

Ryder took his time. He wanted to unveil her slowly, brazenly. The sounds of her sighs and the sight of her desire-filled face made his manhood throb. Beneath the show of primness lay an untapped heat, a heat he planned to ignite until she screamed his name.

To that end he pushed aside the halves of the now open corset and placed a kiss between her breasts. Leah thought she would burst into flame. Any thought she might've had about confessing her virginity died in the blazing feel of the palm he brushed across her breast. The nipple hardened like a dark jewel, and Leah wondered if she'd ever draw another breath.

“How do you think you'll taste with peach juice…” he whispered hotly against her lips.

Leah's world careened.

“Shall we see…?”

While she rippled in the wake of his sensual winds he circled a juice dampened finger around the tight dark aureole of her breast, then bent his head to taste the nipple. Her soft strangled cry broke the silence. He prepared the other breast; dallying, lingering, watching her arch to his bliss-filled ministrations while his manhood rose vibrantly beneath her warm hips.

He raised his head. Leah could feel the dampness of his play on the tightened buds of her breasts. How much passion could one woman hold? She was throbbing and pulsing everywhere.

Ryder wanted to take her right in front of the fire, but he wanted to lay her across his bed even more. “Let's go somewhere more comfortable.”

Rising to his feet with her still in his arms, he carried her through the dark house and up the wide-open worked stairs to his rooms.

The fire inside gave the room a den-like aura. It was her first look at his inner sanctum but she noticed little but the
big brass bed he was now placing her upon, that and the desire flowing in her blood. He boldy reached down and undid the side ties on her drawers and slid them from her. Her stockings and garters soon followed.

Seated beside her on his big, quilt-covered bed, Ryder wondered if she knew what a bewitching picture she presented. Against the flame-lit darkness, dressed in nothing but her gaping corset, she was as enticing as a pasha's favorite. The hard buds of her breasts drew his hands to tease them. His palms wandered over her dark skin touching, stroking and exploring while his eyes glowed at the sight of her body rising for more.

Leah once again wondered how much desire one woman could hold, but as his finger lazily circled her navel the question soared away. She soared also when his touch slipped between her thighs. Tenderly, slowly he awakened the deep secrets hidden there with such intimacy a strange new yearning took hold, and a strangled moan escaped her lips. He teased her, plied her, enticed her to widen the way even farther, and she did so, shamelessly, wantonly. The results of his play made her twist and moan and moments later, shatter. The shuddering force of her completion tore a hoarse cry from her soul, and her being was flung across the darkness like shooting stars.

Ryder watched her ride out her pleasure. He didn't want to stop touching her but needed to remove his clothes so they could continue. As she lay panting and pulsing, he wondered when she'd made love last, because it hadn't taken him very long to bring her to fulfillment. As he undid the buttons on his trousers and took them off he realized it didn't matter; only her passionate responsiveness had any bearing here.

When he rejoined her on the bed, Leah, still recovering, crooned responsively to the fevered kisses now playing over her skin. His hands worshiped, his teeth nibbled, his
body covered hers, and she felt something hard and hot working blissfully against the opening of her shuddering core. Then came pain. She stiffened and cried out.

An incredulous Ryder looked down at her. Every fiber of his being was on the verge of exploding but he held, barely, while he tried to make some sense of something that made no sense. When he moved to withdraw from her, she grasped his waist and tried to keep him close. “Please, it's all right.”

Ryder could see the sheen of painful tears in her eyes. “You're a virgin?”

“Yes but—”

His eyes widened.

“Ryder, I can explain—” Leah didn't want this night to end bitterly, not after all they'd shared. “I know I should've told you before, but—”

“But what, you have an aversion to the truth?”

He withdrew from her, bringing her body relief from the fiery hurt but also leaving her with an odd feeling of emptiness.

“Did you hope to force me into supporting a child?”

“No,” she whispered vehemently.

“So, my father never had you, did he?”

She shook her head, then said, “No. Monty and—I—”

“Were you really married?”

“Yes, we were but—”

“Dammit!”

Ryder got off the bed and grabbed his trousers. He pulled them on. A virgin! How was that possible? What kind of explanation could she offer? He decided he didn't want to know. He'd made a vow to stay clear of anything and everything connected with his father, and he'd broken that vow, for her. Now, he stood looking down at the ripest, hottest little piece he'd ever known, but had no idea who she was or what she was.

Leah scanned the thunderclouds gathered in his face and
stated coolly, “I suppose you don't care to hear what I have to say.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Ryder's jaw tightened. He'd forgotten how brave she could be. “No, I don't. In the morning, I'll take you back to Helene's.”

Leah's eyes widened. “But—”

“Don't worry. Your debt's paid.”

She felt as if she'd been slapped. Getting off the bed, Leah didn't care that she had on nothing but her corset, thereby making her appear as brazen as the whore he'd assumed her to be. She was sorry for not confessing earlier, but if he didn't care to hear or to believe the truth, she couldn't force him to do so.

Without bothering to gather the clothing he'd removed so splendidly, she left him in the quiet of his firelit room.

Ryder wanted to throw something. What in the hell was she doing being a virgin? No man in his right man would have married her and not have consummated the union. So had she really been Louis's wife? She swore she had been, but who knew what to believe? Just thinking about how supple and full she'd felt under him a moment ago made his manhood throb, adding to the storm inside. How dare she pass herself off as someone she was not? The deception led him to the next question. Why? Why would she not tell him? Had she truly been trying to trap him into something? Had she and Lee come at the behest of some unknown business enemy in order to achieve some goal? He didn't know, and doubted he'd get the truth if he asked her.

Leah lay on her bed in the dark. The disaster she'd anticipated had come to pass. One moment they'd been making love and the next—She pulled the quilts up over her and burrowed low. Her debt had been paid, he'd said. The price of freedom had been her innocence. Although she was relieved to no longer be tied to him in that way, tonight's pas
sion had resulted in far more troubling ties. He'd made her body sing; she now knew what men and women did behind closed doors, but it wouldn't happen with Ryder again for reasons that had nothing to do with pleasure. The past had gotten in the way again. Even though Leah knew that decent women weren't supposed to admit something like this, here in the dark she could: he'd left her with a yearning that only he could heal, and she didn't know what to do about it or how to make it stop.

 

The next morning Leah rose before dawn and showered away the remnants of last night. Gone were the traces of the fevered kisses Ryder had placed against her jaw and throat. Down the drain went the heady touches he'd left on her skin, the caresses he'd placed on her breasts. She washed away the tingling memories of scandalously applied spiced peaches and the intimate bliss he'd awakened between her thighs.

When she stepped out of the stall he was standing there. The rise in her temper kept her from being stunned by his presence. It also kept her from wanting to hide her wet nudity from his eyes.
Let him look,
she said boldy to herself. After all, he'd paid fifteen thousand dollars for the privilege, and he already believed she was a whore.

Dripping wet, Leah coolly took the towel from his hand and began to dry herself. “Good morning. Have I not prepared to leave early enough? I didn't think you'd begrudge me a shower. I was pretty sticky after all that juice.”

Ryder's eyes glowed with his own rise in temper. And his manhood glowed with the sight of her damp nakedness. Vivid and erotic memories of last night rose in his mind but he pushed them away. “You're awfully brazen this morning for a woman who was a virgin last night.”

Leah placed her foot on the seat of a short metal chair so she could dry her leg. “Isn't this what you paid for?”

Ryder looked at her ripe hips as she bent over to towel
herself and could do nothing about the desire that flashed through his blood. “Brazen and sassy.”

“I told you I was more everything than you thought when we met. It's how we virgin whores are.”

Leah knew that if she held on to her anger, he wouldn't be able to hurt the parts of herself that had been left so vulnerable by their parting last night. She stood there nude as Bathsheba before David. “Is there a reason you're here?”

Ryder ran his eyes over the dark jewels of her breasts, the long marcasite legs and the hair curling over the juncture of her thighs. What he wanted he couldn't have—ever again. “I came to tell you that Sam'll be taking you back.”

“That's fine.”

Ryder knew he should turn and leave now, but everything about her made him want to sweep her damp beauty up into his arms, take her back to his bed, and slowly finish what they didn't finish fully last night. However he squelched the need by reminding himself that he didn't know who or what she was.

Leah could plainly see the desire hiding behind his stormy eyes. Yes, it called to her, but, like him, she pushed it away. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, this.” He held out a stack of folded bills. “I know you haven't any at the moment.”