Virginia Henley (38 page)

She dipped her finger in the sauce and licked it. He was hard and throbbing. He shifted imperceptibly to ease the fabric stretched tautly across his swollen groin. He tried to tamp down his desire, but it blazed merrily out of control as he remembered taking her sensual lower lip into his mouth. He felt a jolt all the way to the tip of his phallus as she reached for her goblet and her breast almost spilled from her bodice. He was no longer hungry for food as another hunger gnawed at his belly.

When Mr. Burke brought in the next course, he shook his head and told him that would be all. Savage’s voice became husky when he tried to speak. He cleared his throat. “When we return to London you will make your debut into society as Lady Antonia Lamb. You will say you have been visiting friends in the country. I shall let it
be known that Lord Anthony Lamb has departed for Ceylon.”

Antonia gazed at him, not really listening, as he put her world in order. He had an unstudied arrogance sitting here in the banqueting hall of his own castle. With his long black hair and scarred face he could have been a warrior from another century. She shivered delicately as she thought of his bronzed body conquering her and forcing her to yield to him. A fantasy she would give her soul to play out.

Adam Savage threw his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair, waiting for her to arise. He looked so self-composed and in total control that more than anything on earth she wanted to shatter that composure into a million shards. As she arose from the table Adam stood up, but what he saw momentarily rooted him to the spot. With the exquisitely feminine gold tulle bodice she was wearing tight trousers and high-heeled slippers. The boys’ pants emphasized her long, slim legs and molded her deliciously round bottom. He remembered her legs wrapped about his naked body and he was lost.

All thoughts of marrying her to someone else vanished into thin air. She was his. He would keep her forever.

He strode to her and swept her up into his powerful arms. His voice was as smoothly sensual as black velvet. “There is unfinished business between us.”

Antonia’s arms entwined about the thick column of his neck and she shuddered as her fingers tangled in his long black hair. Her cheek rested against his wide shoulder and she could hear the deep, steady beat of his heart as he strode toward the staircase. The linen of his shirt felt rough beneath her soft cheek and she suddenly went weak all over, as she knew without a doubt his naked chest with its furred pelt would be far rougher than linen. She closed her eyes as his man-scent stole to her, making her dizzy with desire.

As he swept up the stairs, his arms tightened about her body and she felt the brush of his marblelike thighs against her bottom cheeks and knew an overwhelming rush of power that she had the ability to do this to his magnificent body. He carried her with such ease, she rejoiced in his great sexual energy, knowing he would expend it all on her.

Suddenly she became shy and apprehensive. What if she wasn’t woman enough for Savage? She stole a look at his face as he carried her into his bedchamber. Silver-blue eyes gazed into hers with such intensity, it was like fire and ice. His mouth was set and hard and looked unbelievably cruel. She drew in a quick breath. She had never seen his face look like this before. He looked like a satyr, nay, he had the ferocity of a wild animal, primal, untamed. He looked like a leopard.

Heat leapt from his body, almost scalding her. His intense masculinity overwhelmed her. Was she mad to let him carry her to his bed? He was too frighteningly dark. He was too big for her, he was too old for her! He was an
experienced libertine, immoral, well versed in debauchery, corruption, and sin.

As Adam Savage carried the prize to his bed, he felt a surging wave of lust that threatened to drown him in need. The very blood slowed in his veins and he felt a throbbing in his chest, his loins, even in the soles of his feet. His sex was so engorged, he had difficulty climbing the stairs, and when his phallus brushed against her bottom cheeks, it was exquisite torture.

Her black hair, just the color of his own, spilled over his arm like a waterfall. Her green eyes were wide, bottomless pools. Before he was done with her he would watch them darken with desire, turn smoky with sensuality, blaze with a flaming lust he would ignite, then turn pale and dreamy with delicious languor.

Her fragrance was an intoxicating mixture of violets and woman-scent. He wanted to taste her but did not trust himself not to bite and crush the soft mouth that tempted him to madness. As he swung her into his bedchamber his gaze ran along the length of her long, slim legs encased in the trousers. He had never knowingly seen a woman in pants before and the effect was unbelievably erotic. Tony had known the effect it would have on him. She had deliberately worn them with the ultrafeminine bodice and high-heeled slippers to provoke his manhood and steal his senses.

Her clinging to him, as if her need was as great as his own, spurred him on to ferocity. As he put her down upon the wide bed he caught a look of panic on her face and suddenly realized she was afraid. A curl of tenderness spiraled inside his chest. He sat down on the bed, gazing down at her as she lay absolutely still. He took her hands into his. “Sweetheart, are you afraid of the act or are you afraid of me?”

“I—I don’t know,” she said faintly.

“A little of both, I suspect,” he murmured.

“You … suddenly seem dangerous.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t play with fire unless you wanted to get scorched.”

She remembered him telling her in Venice that he would not break her hymen because they did not have time for her to become accustomed to the pain and move beyond it. Tonight they did have time.

“Adam, the last time we were together was the most wonderful night of my life. Can you make it like that again?”

“I can try,” he whispered, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. “Last time, because I refused you, you wanted it so badly you thought you would die. Now because you know I am going to complete coitus, you are not so sure you want it at all. It’s perverse human nature, and you are the most perverse female I’ve ever encountered.”

The corners of her mouth went up as a delicious thrill ran through her. The way he looked at her, as if he would devour her, made her feel beautiful and desirable above and beyond all other women. The countless pennies she had dropped down the wishing well as a child must have miraculously worked their magic.

Adam knew he would have to bank the fires of his desire while he rekindled hers to such an intensity that it consumed every last shred of fear and apprehension. He braced himself on his arms and leaned over her. He bent down until his mouth almost touched hers, then he began to tease her. “I dimly recall forbidding you to wear male attire ever again. Then you flaunt those long, beautiful legs at me in pants to deliberately arouse my anger and my lust.” He brushed her lips with his.

“Did I succeed?” she whispered breathlessly.

“I’m aroused, all right,” he said huskily, this time brushing her lips with the tip of his tongue. “I’m going to take off your pants, but I don’t know whether to tan your bottom or kiss it.”

Antonia’s heart fluttered at his words and at his very
nearness. She opened her mouth to answer his taunt and he invaded it instantly, mastering her and taking complete possession. The kiss was deep, branding her as his woman. It had such an arousing effect upon her, she wanted to be his slave and do his bidding, no matter how depraved his demands were.

He stood up but his eyes never left her face. He wanted to watch every small flicker of emotion she was feeling. Her eyes followed his hands as he removed his linen shirt and stripped off his breeches. Her green eyes dilated with pleasurable delight as the splendor of his full nakedness was exposed. Surely he was the most magnificent male nature had ever created.

He displayed his dark virility before her and she was awed at such a superb specimen of manhood. She longed to be naked with him, longed for the clinging of bare bodies, the hot slide of skin against skin, the fusing of mouths, the sharing of body heat until they were both mindless with need. The need for just what was still a deep, dark mystery, forbidden until this moment.

He removed her high-heeled slippers, then held his breath in anticipation as he pulled the boys’ pants from her long, slim legs. She wore nothing beneath them and he was rewarded by a glimpse of rose pink beneath the black silk curls between her legs. When he removed her bodice his eyes never left her face but his calloused thumbs brushed against the soft peaks of her breasts for the thrill of feeling them thrust up into hard little spears. He saw her eyes darken with desire, never realizing that his own eyes had changed their shade.

“Your eyes are as blue as the Bay of Biscay,” she murmured. She would always say these words to him. It would be part of their ritual. They would always be an invitation for him to make love to her. Tiny tremors touched her breasts and belly and thighs and he missed not one quiver.

He came full length against her on the bed and she groaned as his body seemed to touch every naked inch of
hers. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat, smelling, tasting, kissing the well-remembered bronzed flesh she had craved since Venice.

He threaded his fingers through the wild tangle of her hair, then cupped her face and brought it up to his. He kissed her softly, lingeringly, and between kisses he whispered love words, telling her how lovely she looked and felt to him.

Her hands were free to explore the hard muscles of his shoulders and the crisp pelt of his chest. She felt his phallus rise up between their bodies, then press into her soft belly, hard as marble. She reached down to caress him and gasped at his great size. She pulled slightly from his arms to gaze down at the mysterious man-root. It jutted proudly from a nest of wiry black curls. It was extremely thick and curved beautifully toward his navel. The head was satin smooth and shaded vermilion from his throbbing blood. She remembered he had told her it was curved to follow the curve inside a woman’s body. Her body! She shuddered.

She could not believe anything so thick and long could fit up inside her body. She recalled vividly being unable to resist taking the smooth head into her mouth. She had wanted to feel him inside her body and her lips had no trouble accommodating his great size. She moved down his body now, needing to taste him, to feel him swell and throb against her tongue.

Before she reached her goal, Adam brought her face back up to his. “No, sweetheart, not tonight.”

Her eyes were smoky now with a sensuality she needed to express in a physical union. His hot mouth blazed a trail down her throat, then he weighed her breasts with his calloused palms and lifted them to his mouth so that each could receive his tribute. First he kissed the proud little crest, then licked it, then he curled his tongue about it and sucked it whole into his mouth as if he were plucking a
succulent cherry from its stem. He had to stop himself from biting her, she was so delicious.

Antonia was in a fever of need, wanting it more than she’d ever wanted anything before, yet simultaneously wanting it less than she’d ever wanted anything. She felt as if he were driving her to the edge of madness. “Please, please,” she begged him. “Please don’t hurt me too much.”

“Sweetheart, let your fear melt away. I will be patient and gentle with you. …” His voice trailed away, then he added firmly, “Once.”

“Not always?” she breathed.

He shook his head. “Only this first time. When I make love I am feral, savage, even cruel. My lovemaking will be stormy as a tempest, white hot, with driving ferocity to bury myself inside you, and bury myself hard. My darling, you are so splendidly uninhibited, I doubt you will need me to be gentle more than once.”

Her eyes flamed with the lust his provocative words ignited. He spread her lovely long legs apart and combed his fingers through the silky tendrils, seeking her pink center. When she began to arch her mons into his hand with incoherent little cries, he slipped the pads of his fingers inside her cleft to tease her until she became wet for him. Then he knelt between her thighs, placed his thumbs on either side of her cleft, and spread her pink lips apart.

He lowered himself until the swollen head of his shaft was firmly pressed against her protruding bud, then he took away his thumbs and her tight sheath sucked the tip of his phallus inside and tightened upon him with tiny strong muscles.

Adam did not thrust inside her, but took her mouth with his and centered his lovemaking there, showing her with his tongue exactly what he was going to do with his male weapon. Drugged by his kisses, she felt no pain as the love-slick walls of her sheath drew him deeper. When
he was halfway home, she felt only a fullness and a wonder that he was at last joining his splendid body with hers.

He thrust his tongue into the honeyed cave of her mouth and she was suddenly hungry for him, craving for him,
all
of him. Her nails dug fiercely into the flesh of his shoulders and her legs wrapped high about his back as she arched up to him, demanding the full honors of his manhood.

He was filled with a wild joy that he had needed no patience to coax her into a giving mood. He caressed her sensual lower lip with his own, while he contemplated how he would go about breaking her barrier. He had aroused her sexuality to such a pitch, she bit him, and suddenly he, too, could hold back no longer.

When he plunged into her, she screamed and her nails tore his flesh bloody. He held rigidly still, waiting for her pain to subside.

She felt so full of him, she feared she might burst from the fullness of him. Then—as he held still while her sheath stretched to fit him like a kid glove—she realized she could bear it, and she began to like the feel of him inside her. It gave her an incredible power over him. Gradually she became aware of his words in her ear. He was telling her how hot and tight it felt to be buried deep within her. His words were intimate, erotic, seducing her to match his passion and express her woman’s sexuality to the full.

They scalded each other. Finally, when neither of them could bear the burning torment longer, he began to move. Her green eyes widened in surprise as they locked intensely with his ice-blue gaze. The sleek heat became a wet slide with the friction of his strokes. He was anchored deep, making the sensations for both of them exquisite, silken torture as he molded her to his stunning body.

Though he had shaved, his beard scratched her soft cheek and she reveled in his maleness. His male-scented body acted as an aphrodisiac upon her. Everything about his mating with her was rough and elemental and she
knew what had happened to her was cataclysmic and she would never be the same again. Not her mind, not her soul, not her body.

Their mingled breaths were husky, their lovemaking so sultry, they felt as if they would go up in smoke. Tendrils of long black hair entwined about their throats and shoulders, no longer belonging to him or her, but to both in a wild tangle. Then the night exploded. Antonia screamed again, this time from pure sensual bliss.