Silently, she let her fingers drift along the planes and angles of his perfect face, exploring his striking cheek-bones, his strong jaw, his sculpted lips, as if she were touching him for the first time. Weaving her fingers through his long hair, she drew his mouth down to hers.
A groan rumbled in the back of his throat as his lips covered hers, and he abandoned himself to their kiss. There would be no going back now, she thought. She had waited for Griffin her entire life. They would love each other in the deepest way possible, the consequences be damned.
His tongue gently probed her mouth and she opened to his ever-deepening kiss, the taste of him like a drug to her senses, numbing and addictive, and devastating in its power over her. This was like no kiss they had shared before, so filled with the promise of the passion yet to come.
She waited for a flood of trepidation to overwhelm her, for all her fears and insecurities to push to the surface as they had the other times. But she felt so right in his arms, like a sensual, self-aware woman, not a nervous, fumbling neophyte.
He pulled her beneath him and settled himself along the length of her body, his weight trapping her against his body, the evidence of his desire pressed against her belly, outlined by the tight denim.
Griffin pushed up and braced his hands on either side of her head, a self-deprecating grin twisting his lips. "It has been a long while since I've been with a woman."
She felt her face flame. "Almost three hundred years," she murmured, running her hand down the front of his T-shirt to the waistband of his jeans. "That is a very long time."
Through his T-shirt, she felt the hard muscles and the warm flesh of his torso. Suddenly, she wanted to rid him of all his clothes. She tugged at the hem of the shirt, pulling it up until it bunched beneath his arms, then ran her nails down along his spine.
He drew a sharp breath and held it, then groaned in pleasure. "I am not certain of how things go between a man and a woman in this century, so we will proceed…"
He brushed a kiss across her lips. "Slowly."
"Slowly," Meredith repeated, her confidence bolstered.
"Slowly," he repeated, nuzzling her ear.
He rolled off of her, then sat back on his heels, his gaze never leaving hers. With a grin, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. In the moonlight, he looked as if he'd been carved from solid marble. She reached out and allowed her hand to drift along the tight muscles of his abdomen.
He took her hand and drew her up in front of him, then pulled her body against his, kissing her long and hard, cupping her backside in his hands, molding her hips to his.
Suddenly, desperately, she wanted to feel her skin warm against his. What wickedness possessed her, she didn't know, but she pushed against his chest, then grabbed the bottom of her nightshirt. In one easy movement, she yanked it up over her head, unashamed of what she revealed.
But while her arms were still stretched above her, Griffin's mouth drifted to her breasts. "So beautiful," he murmured, teasing at her nipple with his lips.
Meredith shivered, then tossed the nightshirt over her shoulder. "When you first met me, you thought I was a boy."
He glanced up at her and shot her a seductive grin. "I was suffering from a blow to the head. I am very clear of mind at present."
"Then make love to me, Griffin," she murmured, her fingers twisted in his long hair. "I want to show, you that I'm a woman, your woman."
With that, they began a slow and easy love play, teasing and touching, whispering soft words of encouragement as they explored each other's bodies. Before long, her panties and his jeans ended up on the floor next to the bed, and they were twisted together, naked, with nothing standing between them.
She'd never felt such immense desire before, such overwhelming need. Every touch seemed so perfect, so filled with emotion. This was what passion was supposed to be like between a man and a woman. Not the awkward fumbling and frantic groping and nervous apprehension that she'd experienced in the past, but a tantalizing give-and-take, a hunger that seemed to grow by each second until she knew there had to be something more.
She needed to feel him not just around her and above her, but inside her. Hesitantly, she reached for him, touching him as she'd never touched a man before. He was like smooth silk and warm steel. With fleeting fingers, she ran her hand along the length of his shaft. He moaned softly and murmured her name. Then, as if to return the pleasure she gave him, he touched her in a way so intimate, she instinctively drew away.
"Don't be frightened of me, Merrie," he said. "Let me take you to a perfect place."
She relaxed and closed her eyes, surrendering to his gentle caress. Slowly, a delicious warmth seeped though her limbs, pricking at the tips of her fingers and toes. But gradually, the warmth turned to need. Her breath quickened and her every thought focused on the touch of his hand on her body. The tension built deep in her core until she moved against him, aching with need.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, Griffin. I want you."
Then his warm fingers were gone. In an instant, he was above her, the touch of his hand now replaced by his probing shaft. He drew her knees up along his hips and slowly entered her.
She winced as he met the proof of her virginity and she bit her lip, ready to face his surprise, his confusion, maybe even his disdain.
He frowned. "This cannot be so," he murmured.
"You are my first, Griffin," Merrie said, averting her gaze, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. "I've waited for you my whole life."
The confusion in his eyes gradually turned to understanding, then longing. He moved above her. "It may hurt, Merrie," he murmured. "But I vow, it will be the first and last time our lovemaking causes you pain."
She nodded. "I need you, Griffin."
He held her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. "And I need you, Merrie, my love." He moved against her and with one smooth thrust, took her.
For a long moment, he didn't move again, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him buried deep inside her. But then, as if he knew when the time was right, he pressed into her, slowly at first, then with a powerful rhythm.
Her senses reeled with every thrust and release, a pulse of tension quickening at her core. She whispered his name, again and again, a silent plea to bring her release. Higher and higher they climbed, rocking against each other until she felt as if she'd lost all touch with reality.
Suddenly, she was there… and in an instant, gone, tumbling over the edge, crying out at the same moment he did, their hearts and their souls merging into one. And in that glorious, shattering moment, she knew she belonged entirely to this man, this Griffin Rourke. She always had.
8
Meredith sighed in contentment, fighting the pull of wakefulness and sinking back into the hazy world of sleep. The fantasy had become real, and oh so perfect. Her pirate had come to her in the middle of the night, taking her with unbridled passion and fierce possession. And she had given herself to him, body and soul, heart and mind, until, in an exquisite instant, they'd become one.
Nestling into the warmth of his embrace, she pressed her forehead against the silky black hair on his chest, then drew a deep breath through her nose. The smell of their lovemaking still lingered on his skin. She listened to the strong, even sound of his breathing for a long time, then slowly opened her eyes.
She smiled and sighed softly. It hadn't been a dream. Griffin was here, in her bed, his naked body lying beside hers, his long legs twisted around hers. And for the first time in her life, she felt complete, as if she had found her place as a woman. She had waited all her life for this man, knowing he was out there, somewhere. And across time and distance, against all odds, they had found each other.