Let her be seduced anew by his heat. He was burning.
One boot hit the floor. Seconds later its mate joined it.
She drew back her hand. Breath bated, mouth abruptly drying, she waited for him to stand and turn.
He didn’t. He rose up, slid his trousers past his hips and sat again to pull them free of his long legs.
She barely had time to register the maneuver before his trousers hit the floor and he turned, and was on her.
Sunk in the bed alongside, propped on one arm, he loomed over her.
She knew why he’d done it. He was now too close for her to see anything beyond the wide expanse of his chest. Naked and delectable though that was, she’d had further expectations.
Eyes narrowing, she opened her mouth to inform him she had three married sisters-
He kissed her. Filled her mouth with the potent taste of him, with power, passion, and promise.
Swept her away-effortlessly-on a tide of rising need, driven by an escalating, clawing sense of urgency.
His hand closed, hard, over one silk-clad breast. Possessively weighed, caressed. His thumb found her nipple and circled, stroked, teased…until she gasped through the kiss, body arching, pressing her flesh more firmly into his demanding hand.
That seemed all the encouragement he needed.
His hand roved her body, heavy, male, flagrantly demanding and commanding, drawing responses from her she’d never known she’d had it in her to give.
She’d thought she’d been heated before.
Now she burned.
Then he broke from the kiss, slid down and bent his head, licked, laved. Silk clung to her breast, to her tightly furled nipple. He drew back enough to see, then bent his head once more-and drew the turgid bud into his mouth.
And suckled.
She shrieked, fought to mute the sound. Fought to ride the wave of sensation he sent crashing through her. He continued to feast, until she was breathless, until she shifted and moaned.
Then his hand slid between her thighs and one blunt fingertip stroked her through the sodden silk covering her there.
She sobbed, clutched his head, holding him to her as she tilted her hips, wordlessly begging.
The blunt fingertip found her entrance and pressed in, just a little, the wet silk an excruciatingly frustrating barrier preventing real touch, deeper penetration.
She wanted…she knew more than enough to know exactly what she wanted.
Freeing one hand from the tangle of his dark hair, she reached down…and found him. Hotter than flesh should be, velvet over steel. Her fingertips reached just far enough to touch, to reverently trace the broad head.
He’d stilled the instant she’d made contact. Stretching, she reached further, curled her fingers and lightly stroked upward.
He shuddered, softly swore, his breath an exhalation washing over her tortured nipple.
Then he moved.
She just managed to stifle a shriek as he rolled, taking her with him so she landed atop him in a flurry of silk. One large hand palmed her head and he dragged it down, dragged her down into a kiss so rapaciously possessive it literally curled her toes.
His other hand was busy. She only realized when the night air coolly caressed her naked back, then the gauzy blouse parted at the back. His hands helped it slide down her shoulders. She lifted one hand and forearm, then the other, stripped the garment off and flung it away, uncaring of where it landed.
Caring much more about being skin to skin with him, her breasts, full and achingly swollen, brushing, then pressing against the heavy muscles of his chest, her tight nipples tantalizingly abraded by the crisp black hair that adorned it.
She’d barely absorbed that sensation when she felt the tug as the silk harem pants slid down and over her hips.
Expectation leapt; anticipation skittered through her veins.
Nerves tensed, alive to every touch. Waiting as he drew the silk steadily lower, so it no longer screened her belly from his. She held her breath as he shifted, lifting her as he drew the garment down her thighs.
Her mind racing ahead in giddy delight, she remembered the ankle cuffs.
Just as he rolled again, pinning her beneath him.
Hands clutching his arms, she gasped at the sensation of being surrounded, trapped, by hot, hard male, then he kissed her-a forceful, demanding, conquerorlike claiming that left her reeling.
Gareth seized the moment to pull back from her and deal with the cuffs at her ankles, then strip the flimsy harem pants away.
He gave himself only one brief instant to drink in the sight of her lying rumpled and aroused, her rich brown hair disarranged and flung across the pillows, her lids at half mast, her lips swollen and sheening, her body lush and ripe-and all his.
Then he stretched over her and let his body down on hers. Thrilled to the sensation of firm curves, supple skin, feminine softness cushioning him, the demon within all but slavering with delight.
Small hands braced on his chest. He found her eyes with his as she pressed, wasn’t entirely surprised when she protested, albeit weakly, “I want to see you.”
“Not now.” The reply was a categorical growl. He didn’t think he could stand the torment-not without reacting. Not while maintaining the control necessary to go slowly. He’d stake his life she was a virgin, so slowly was mandatory. Not that he’d had any experience in that precise arena-under his code virgins were not fair game-but so he’d always heard.
Despite her state, her jaw started to firm.
“Later.” Inspired, he added, “Next time.” Perhaps.
He didn’t wait to see if she agreed, but bent his head and kissed her again.
The heat between them hadn’t waned in the least-now it leapt to life, flames roaring, then escalating rapidly as hands touched and found nothing but hot dewed skin, as he shifted over her, nudging her thighs apart, as she parted them willingly and he settled between.
As she wriggled, accommodating him, then tipping her hips…
He sank into her, had pressed in the first inch even before he’d meant to.
And then there was no holding back.
She was tight. Tight enough to make him shudder. To back the breath up in his chest as he pressed in, and on. As inch by inch he filled her, and her sheath stretched to take him in.
And sure enough, the barrier was there. Every muscle clenched, locked tight under absolute control, he withdrew almost to her entrance, felt her hands clutch frantically, trying to tug him back.
He flexed his spine and thrust powerfully in, forging past the fine barrier to seat himself fully within her, to press deep, to the hilt.
And stop. Holding himself steady, every sense locked on her.
Beneath him, held trapped in the kiss, she’d made not a sound, but she’d frozen.
An instinctive reaction against a sharp pain. He waited; lips on hers, he prayed he hadn’t hurt her too badly, that she-
He broke off the thought as she eased beneath him. As gradually, bit by bit, the pain-induced tension fell from her.
Beneath it, supplanting it, he sensed something in her that for all his experience he’d never previously encountered. It took him a moment to find its name.
Fascination.
She was utterly enthralled. Not just with his body, but with the sensation of their joining, of him being sunk so deeply within her.
He kissed her gently, and moved, drawing back slowly, then thrusting in again, and sensed her excitement, that fascination, flare.
Instinct, and the dance, took over.
Emily gave herself up to it, up to him, to the swirling exhilaration of their joining, wholly and completely embracing the act. Her mind couldn’t contain her joy, her delight, the inexpressible relief that as last she was here, with him, and it was all so much better than she’d ever imagined, than her sisters had ever been able to describe.
She reveled, and urged him on. Did all and everything she could to meet him, match him, and learn what pleased him, to grasp every chance to share the abundant pleasure he was lavishing on her, and return it.