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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: Sweet Temptation
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She was unable to resist when he pulled her closer to him. His nearness, the intensity of his presence, the force of his attractiveness took her breath away. Why, when she had thought of him all those years, had she never realized what it would be like,
really
be like, to be with him? In her imagination, being with him had been a natural thing, something she did willingly, not waiting fearfully and apprehensively in the dark, wondering what would happen next. This was nothing like the wonder and magic she had dreamed of, nothing like the ecstasy she had looked forward to. She felt as though she were not a participant, merely an object to be used.

Sara was unable to resist when he reached over and roughly kissed her full on the lips, but she could not repress a tiny gasp of shock. The trepidation and fear was still there, but deep inside her a tiny kernel of pleasure began to unfold.

Gavin noted both her surprise and her lack of response, but the taste of her sweet lips reinvigorated his flagging ardor and he took her slender, trembling body into his arms. Sara thought she would disintegrate from the impact of her excitement. Her entire body was on alert, every nerve screaming that she was under attack, that something shockingly new was happening to her; she didn’t know how to protect herself, or whether she even wanted to try.

Gavin kissed her again, hungrily this time, his lips roughly crushing her mouth, and pressed her unresisting body against his chest. She was a skinny little thing, but curiously appealing nonetheless. There was a freshness about her, a feeling of newness that was unique in his experience, a sensation he found rather exciting. His tongue forced its way between her tightly compressed lips and plunged into her sweet mouth. At the same time his hands impatiently slipped the nightgown over her shoulders baring the breasts to his attack.

“I’m going to kiss your breasts now. There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

Sara had not resisted when Gavin’s tongue ravaged her mouth even though she had wanted to. But now her body became rigid, and she gasped when his hot hands cupped her breasts; her breathing became shallow and rapid when his lips deserted her mouth for the rosy, mounding peak of her right breast. If her nervous system was in a panic before, it was having hysterics now. She hardly knew what she was feeling, but she was completely incapable of controlling her response. Everything was new, unsuspected, and affected her body so violently, her muscles rigidly refused to do anything she told them.

Her maidenly modesty, horrified by what was happening, encouraged her to resist, to brush away the hands and lips that were being so free with her body. These feelings were so insistent she was only marginally aware of the sensation of sensual pleasure that continued to flower, that was vainly trying to make its presence known; ignorance and fear were the twin drivers as her emotional carriage careened out of control.

Into
his
control, she realized. But was it so terrible a thing to surrender to him?

“Don’t fight so hard,” Gavin murmured without ceasing his attention to her breasts. “Relax, and you may find it as enjoyable as I do.”

With a great effort, Sara forced herself to lie perfectly still, not because Gavin told her she might enjoy it, but because she told herself it was her duty. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy this night, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t supposed to know what was happening to her, and she didn’t. But it frightened her. Gavin’s actions were nothing like what she expected. His lips and tongue attacked her body like a starving man at his first meal and his hands were like those of a blind man determined to memorize every inch of her. To lie here half-naked was the final and almost unbearable indignity. She hoped it was almost over. She wasn’t sure she could stand much more.

But there was much more. To her pleasure and horror, Gavin seemed to be tugging at her gown, trying to pull it further down her body. Caught between two powerful but totally opposite sets of feelings, she was helpless to resist at first. Fear was still urging her to violent resistance, but the other feeling was gathering strength, this new and unfamiliar sensation, this feeling of pleasure that sapped her energy and slew her will to resist. She lay immobile, unable to decide what to do, until she realized that he was
trying to take her clothes off!
Her whole being reacted in panic, and she clutched frantically at her gown. Gavin did not divert his attention from her breasts, and she was able to pull it back up just above her waist, but she had no time to enjoy her triumph.

“You really are quite lovely,” he murmured, “much more than I expected.” He spoke abstractly, as if he, too, were caught in this web of sensations.

His left hand was suddenly on her leg and moving with dispatch up her thigh. She was stunned. Betty had never hinted of this. Surely this could have no part of babies. But before Sara could attempt to think or reason, Gavin’s hand reached the furry crescent between her legs, and her whole being exploded in rebellion.

“Don’t!” The desperate protest burst from her lips as a plaintive, accusing wail.

“What in bloody hell?” Gavin exploded. He neither slackened his grip or arrested his actions, until he realized she was afraid of him.

“Don’t touch me like that.” Sara tried to roll away from Gavin’s grasp, to draw her gown up over her violated body, but he continued to hold her captive.

“I’m going to do much more than touch you,” he told her in a gentle, persuasive voice, as he paused to stroke her hair, “much, much more.” Gavin’s powerful grip, the tenderness in his voice, and her own feeling of helplessness held her prisoner, as he proceeded to explore her body with increasing intensity. “There may be pain at first when I take you. But never again, I swear.”

Sara had no idea what he was talking about, but she made up her mind she didn’t want to find out. “I want you to leave,” she declared, desperation giving her courage.

“On our wedding night?” demanded Gavin, still too swayed by desire to realize that Sara was very badly frightened.

“I don’t care what night it is. I just want you to go away and leave me alone.”

“Easy,” he whispered, doing his best to gentle her. “Your first time can be quite pleasant, I promise. If you like, I’ll tell you everything before I do it.”

“I don’t want to know anything or do anything,” Sara protested. “I just want this nightmare to end.” Her protests became more shrill, but they had little effect on Gavin. His blood thundered in his veins, desire blotting out everything but his need for satisfaction. When Sara’s gown became too tangled about her body for him to remove, he ripped it from seam to seam and cast it from him. Sara lay naked before him, trembling from head to toe. Her whole mind was filled with panic, but she was unable to move or protest any longer. Even when he paused to look at her unsullied perfection, she made no attempt to escape. She knew he would not be denied, and that it was her duty to submit. Dumbly she waited for the end to come.

Much to Gavin’s surprise, he found he was highly excited by Sara’s slim loveliness, and he shed his clothes quickly. If he had seen Sara’s expression, he might have paused in his headlong rush to enjoy her. He might also have given some thought to what she must be experiencing on this, the most earth-shaking night in her life. But he only saw a flawless body whose appeal riveted every part of his attention.

Sara had never seen anyone naked, but she had already suffered so much from shock, she was unable to do more than unconsciously record the magnificent picture of manhood that Gavin presented to her gaze. All that pierced the haze of her panic was the image of his engorged manhood standing rigidly upright like an angry sentinel.

Gavin lay down beside her, impatient with having to lead her so slowly and carefully. Damn! This was one reason to stay away from virgins. He preferred a woman who welcomed the touch of his hands and lips on her body, one who could give him as much pleasure as he gave her. He felt almost as if he were manipulating Sara.

“I am going to take you now. Can you not try to share some of the pleasure with me?” In quick succession his hands and lips returned to caressing her body. Gently he braced his knee between her legs. “Open for me.”

She tried to keep her knees together, but almost before she knew it, she felt his hot, insistent manhood pressing against her. When he entered her, she stopped breathing, her body opening to him in spite of herself.

“That’s right, relax,” Gavin coaxed. He cursed, but was not deterred when he encountered the resistance of her maidenhead. “It may hurt a little,” he said, and before she could gather herself to resist, he thrust powerfully into her, driving deep. A knifing pain shot through Sara’s body, and she cried out. Immediately she bit her lip; she would not scream no matter what happened.

The pain subsided quickly, and, to her amazement, Sara realized her body was responding instinctively to Gavin. It was a clumsy effort, to be sure, but with it came an awareness of pleasure and excitement that was building within her.

But her feeling of outrage caused her to deny those feelings, and the conflicting signals destroyed her pleasure. Suddenly, Gavin increased his movement, and then just as suddenly ceased altogether. He rolled over on his side, and the only sound in the room was the rasp of his heavy breathing. Sara lay still, utterly humiliated, without any desire to cover herself. What for? Surely, it was over now. But her surprises were not yet at an end.

Gavin’s desire was far from exhausted, and before she could summon the strength to fight him off, he entered her again.

“This time it won’t hurt,” he promised her.

She lay perfectly still. She knew what to expect and was no longer afraid, but she was so furious she didn’t feel the swelling chorus of sensations in her body that urged her to respond to Gavin, to meet him in this physical manifestation of their union. All she could think of was her humiliation, and the thoughtless way he had taken his pleasure of her.

When Gavin prepared to mount her for a third time, she rolled away.

“No,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Don’t touch me again. I feel
unclean.”

Anger, black and fierce, slew Gavin’s desire in an instant. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his conscience told him he should never have forced her, but his outrage at being accused of defiling her body—especially when he’d sacrificed some of his own pleasure to ease her fears—wouldn’t allow him to consider that now.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“You dare to ask me that after what you’ve just done?” Sara exclaimed. She snatched at a comforter and wrapped it securely around her.

“What did you expect me to do, hold your hand?”

“I told you I was frightened and didn’t know what to expect,” Sara replied angrily.

“You can’t blame me for that.”

“Perhaps not, but I can blame you for the brutal way you used me.”

“Brutal!” echoed Gavin, staggered that she couldn’t see any of the trouble he had taken.

“Yes, brutal,” reiterated Sara. “You knew I was ignorant and frightened, yet you ruthlessly ignored my protest and caused me pain.”

“I won’t hurt you again,” Gavin told her irritably. “You’ll feel-nothing but pleasure from here on.”

“If you think it’s a pleasure to have my clothes ripped off and my body ravaged, you’re demented,” raged Sara. There was a nagging recollection that she
had
experienced some pleasure, but she swept the memory heedlessly aside. “I don’t want you to ever enter my bedchamber again.”

“This is
my
bedchamber,” Gavin informed her, “and I’ll enter it as often as I like.”

“Then I will remove myself this instant,” Sara declared. “And in future, my maid will sleep in my room. I will not be mauled and molested against my wishes.”

Gavin threw himself from the bed and into his breeches with such force he almost ripped them open. “You need not disturb yourself,” he shouted, affronted by her spurning him as a lover, and infuriated at her rejection of his attempts to ease her shock and salve his conscience. “I will
maul
and
molest
no female against her wishes.”

Sara decided to ignore his last sentence. “And please tell your mother I’m sorry, but if this is the way one gets babies, I can’t possibly give her a grandchild.” There was enough sincere regret in her tone to penetrate Gavin’s rage, and he experienced a moment of sympathy.

“She will pardon you, she already has me, but my father won’t be so forgiving.” He reached out to touch her, but Sara jerked herself back, the abhorrence in her eyes so unmistakable that a wave of guilt washed over Gavin. Immediately his anger was rekindled.

“I’ll go, and I won’t come back. I didn’t want you when I first saw you years ago, I didn’t want you when I met you at the altar, and by God, I don’t want you now. I can satisfy my needs much more agreeably elsewhere.” He snatched up his shirt. “Give my compliments to my father. He provided me with exactly the kind of wife I deserve.” He laughed harshly. “But he overplayed his hand this time. Neither one of us will get what we want from you.” He flung out of the room without looking back. The sound of the slamming door rang in Sara’s ears for several minutes afterwards.

He had barely gone before Sara began to shake uncontrollably, and then she started to cry. She didn’t understand why, but the outpouring of grief was just as violent as when her father died. Great sobs shook her body as she mourned the death of the dream that had sustained her through seven lonely years. There was a great, inchoate mass of thought that weighed on her brain, a seething turmoil she could neither understand or ignore. Tomorrow she would try to sort out what she had lost, what this night had cost her, but right now she only had the strength to mourn.

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