Prince Charming (46 page)

He was in much the same condition. He thought he sounded as though he'd just run up the side of a mountain.

She felt as though she was floating in a pool of sunshine. She couldn't catch hold of a single worry. Desire made her blissfully carefree. Lucas had done that to her. One kiss and he'd filled her mind with butterflies.

He wasn't finished wooing her. He kissed a path down her neck, lingered over the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat, and then moved lower still. She let out a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes.

He was determined to go slowly. He wanted to savor their coming together, but more important, he didn't want to frighten her. He'd taken her nightgown off but kept his britches on, and he wondered how long it would take her to realize she was naked. He prayed it would be later instead of sooner. He wanted her to be as caught up in desire as he was. He would stop if she asked him to, but damn, he didn't even want to think about the possibility. He was already burning, and all he wanted to do was feel her squeezing him while he poured his seed into her. She was going to be hot and tight and wet, just like he'd fantasized all these past weeks.

He let out a low groan in anticipation.

She had the softest, the smoothest skin he'd ever felt. He wanted to taste every inch of her. God, she smelled as wonderful as heaven. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her sweet fragrance while he slowly eased himself down on top of her.

His chest covered her breasts. She let out a gasp of raw pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer. The thick mat of dark hair covering his chest tickled and tantalized her breasts. The heat from his skin made her nipples hard. She was overwhelmed by the erotic feelings flooding her body. She moved restlessly against her husband, wanting something more from him to ease the heaviness in her breasts.

He seemed to know what she wanted. His hands moved down from her shoulders to stroke her breasts. He took each into the palms of his hands, then slowly rubbed the pad of his thumbs across her sensitive nipples.

She let out a little cry. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. He grunted in response to the painpleasure she gave him, then moved again down her sweet body so that he could caress her with his mouth. He kissed the valley between her breasts with loving attention. Her skin was so sensitive to his touch, the day's growth on his face felt rough and scratchy, and dear God, it was the most incredible feeling. She felt as though she were coming off the bed. She arched up against her husband, begging him without words not to stop his torment.

She didn't think it was possible to feel more pleasure. And yet, when his mouth covered one of her nipples and he began to suckle, she couldn't remember to breathe. The pleasure was so intense, it consumed her. And just when she was certain she was going to die from the ecstasy he was giving her, he rolled away from her.

He stood up by the side of the bed. They stared at one another for a long silent minute. He was savoring the look of passion in her eyes. They were a misty blue now. Her lips were swollen, her skin flushed, and God but she was the most sensual woman in all the world.

Their mating would be good no matter what, but he wanted perfection. For her. Only for her. She had to want him as much as he wanted her. Since he had never taken a virgin to his bed before, he wasn't certain how long it would take to make her feel the way he did. He was determined to make her burn for fulfillment, to feel the intensity. He craved her.

He only hoped he had the stamina and the strength to hold back until she was ready. His hands shook and his actions were jerky as he tore the buttons open and peeled off his pants.

Taylor couldn't take her gaze away from his face. The smoldering look in his eyes made her heart flutter a wild beat. Every fiber in her body responded to him. The night air chilled her skin but the warm knot inside her was spreading down her middle, reaching the very core of her femininity. She wasn't covered with a nightgown or a blanket. She should have felt embarrassment. She didn't. She rested on her back on top of the rumpled sheets, staring up at her husband without any shyness at all.

The unknown did frighten her, and for that reason she didn't look below his chin. She'd seen Lucas naked before, but only his backside. She'd never seen the front of him.

Curiosity won out. She slowly lowered her gaze to his waist. She saw the dark hair springing free from the V in the opening of his pants, but then Lucas bent over to take his pants off and he blocked her view.

And then he was covering her once again. She tried to keep her legs together. He wouldn't let her. He used his knee to wedge his way between her thighs, and before she could move out of his way, he came down on top of her. He gathered her in his arms and held her tight. His hardness was pressed intimately against her pelvis. Pleasure warred with fear. He felt huge against her. Her mouth went dry. She tensed against him in trepidation. Her hands were fisted at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain.

A full minute passed and still he didn't move. The heat from his body began to help her relax. She started breathing again and opened her eyes.

Lucas braced himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. He gritted his teeth against the incredible surge of pleasure he felt pressed against her.

Taylor noticed only the tenderness in his eyes. She was suddenly overwhelmed by his gentleness. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. He leaned into her hand, then kissed her palm. A shudder of desire caught her by surprise. She wanted him to kiss her again, hard, on the mouth. She wanted him to use his tongue. She wanted . . .

“You may . . .”

She whispered the request and stared into his eyes while she waited for him to understand.

He leaned down and kissed her brow. “I may what?” he asked. His voice was as gritty as the sound of crushed leaves. It was incredibly arousing.

“You may kiss me again,” she explained. She sounded breathless.

He slanted his mouth over hers and her lips parted. His tongue swept inside, plundering, tasting, giving. Her hands went to the back of his neck and her fingers splayed upward into his silky hair. She never wanted him to leave her. Her tongue rubbed against his with a boldness that surprised both of them. And then the kiss took on an urgency that left them both desperate for more.

His hands moved down between their bodies. He stroked her breasts and then moved lower. His fingers circled her navel. She instinctively moved against him.

He shifted his position, his mouth sealed with hers all the while, and then his hand moved lower still until he found what he most wanted to touch. His fingers surged through the soft, curly hair between the junction of her thighs. He stroked the smooth petals shielding her virginity and then began to caress the kernel of desire he knew would drive her wild.

She would have screamed with the pleasure he gave her if she'd had the strength. She let out a low whimper instead. She couldn't stop herself from moving erotically against his hand. His fingers were magical.

The rhythmic motion of his fingers against her made her wild, wanton. She arched against him, demanding more. Her nails scraped his shoulders, and she softly moaned his name.

Her uninhibited response to him made him lose his own control. His actions were rough now, determined. He grabbed hold of a fistful of her hair, pulled her head back, and sealed her mouth with his. His tongue thrust into her mouth just as his finger penetrated her tight sheath. He could feel her wetness, and it drove him wild. She cried out against his mouth. He knew he was hurting her.

He eased his finger out and tried to soothe her with another drugging kiss. And then, before she realized his intent, his mouth replaced his fingers and he was kissing her there, stroking her with his tongue and his lips. The taste of her was intoxicating. She writhed against him even as she begged him to stop the blissful torture.

He wouldn't be deterred. He used his tongue to stroke the passion in her, and only when she was trembling and burning and pleading with him to come to her, did he at last make her completely his.

He knelt between her thighs but didn't immediately enter her. He took hold of her hands and placed them on his hard shaft. She let out a low moan. The deep guttural sound he made in the back of his throat, filled with raw pleasure, made her feel heady with power. She stroked him, squeezed him. Her finger brushed across the very tip. She felt the moisture there and leaned up to taste it with her mouth.

He almost came then and there. Her tongue flicked across the tip of his arousal and her sweet, soft lips closed around him. She started to suckle. Lucas's composure vanished. He didn't want to come in her mouth, not this time. He wanted to give her fulfillment first. Even if it killed him.

His movements became rougher now, more uncontrolled. He pushed her back against the sheets, lifted her hips up high on the front of his thighs, and when he was about to enter her, he demanded she look at him.

“We're a family now, Taylor. You're my family. Do you understand?”

She put her arms around him and drew him down to her. “Love me, Lucas. Please,” she whispered.

And still he hesitated. “I understand,” she said then.

“I'm going to hurt you. I'm sorry, baby. God, I'm sorry.”

He kissed her then, long and hard. His tongue moved inside to mate with hers, and then he tried to slowly ease inside her tight sheath. It was agony. He wanted to be gentle. He couldn't. His body demanded completion, and he was powerless against the primitive instinct. Her permission had pushed him beyond control. He thrust deep, breaking her virginal barrier with one hard push, and he was finally planted solidly inside her. He captured her cry with his mouth, and though it didn't seem possible to him, he sank deeper inside her.

He was surrounded by her, caressed by her incredible tightness, flooded with such intense pleasure he thought he would die from it.

Taylor felt a searing pain and believed with all her heart that Lucas had just torn her apart. It hurt so much she started to cry. Yet within the space of a heartbeat, the pain began to lessen. A dull ache lingered, and when Lucas leaned down to kiss her tears away and whisper sweet lies about how beautiful she was, the pain was all but forgotten.

He wanted to give her time to adjust to him. The determination to hold back lasted less than a few seconds. She restlessly moved against him and began to stroke his shoulders. He rocked against her. Sensation after sensation flooded him. He slowly withdrew, then thrust back inside her. The rhythmic mating motions became more forceful, much quicker. Each time he sank back into her was better than the time before. He became mindless to everything but giving her fulfillment and finding his own. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. He pulled her legs up to hold him around his hips. And then she began to move with him. She arched up when he pulled back, until the ritual became wild and wonderful and exhilarating. They moved in perfect harmony. With each thrust, he became harder, fuller. He knew he was about to climax. He wanted her to be there with him. He reached between their joined bodies and stroked the nub hidden between her velvety folds until she coiled all around him and cried out his name. Tremors racked her body. She chanted his name in the throes of her orgasm, and only then did he allow himself the freedom to gain his own. He surged forward again and poured his hot seed into her.

His ecstasy was so shattering and gratifying he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. His head fell down to the crook of her neck. He groaned low in his throat. His heart was slamming inside his chest, and he took several deep, gulping breaths. He felt weak and powerful at the same time. The contradiction didn't make any sense. It didn't need to, for reality had turned out to be much better than all the fantasies he'd had.

She'd given him perfection.

Taylor felt as though she'd just reached the stars and was now gently floating down to earth again. She had never known such passion was possible. It overwhelmed her, consumed her. She clung to her husband, feeling safe and protected in his strong arms, until her heart quit beating so erratically and she could draw a deep breath.

They lay complete and exhausted in each other's arms, each listening to the other's heartbeat for a long while. Lucas was the first to gather enough strength to move. He let out a loud groan and rolled to his side. He couldn't quite bring himself to let go of her though and so he took her with him. Her eyes were closed. He couldn't stop staring at her. She was so beautiful to him. She had incredibly long eyelashes. He'd never noticed before, but only because he'd been too occupied staring into her enchanting blue eyes. Her complexion was flawless and with a lovely golden hue. She was flawless, he decided then. His gaze turned to her mouth. She had full, pouting lips that could drive him to distraction. He couldn't leave them alone. He rubbed his thumb across the silky texture, then tilted her head back and kissed her, savoring once again the taste and the feel of her softness against him.

When he pulled back, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She was shaken by his gentleness. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Did he think the marriage act they had just shared had been as wonderful as she did? Had he been just as overwhelmed?

Madam had called it rutting. Taylor had believed her. She understood the truth now. It was anything but rutting. Loving Lucas had been pure and joyful and fulfilling, and it was surely the most wonderful experience of her life. She would always cherish the memory.

Lucas spotted the tears in her eyes and immediately became alarmed. “I couldn't help hurting you, sweetheart. Are you in pain now?”