He moved on then, encouraging her hand lower, brushing the warm sac beneath his thick shaft, then over his powerful horseman’s thighs with their faint dusting of dark hair, lingering at his lean flank… Then, surprisingly, he released her hand.
“ ‘Tis your turn alone, angel. You may do as you like with me. I am at your mercy.”
It was a novel experience, having a powerful, virile man such as Lord Sin vulnerable and pliant beneath her touch. Somehow liberating. Intoxicating.
With a will of its own, her hand resumed its sinful exploration of his magnificent nude body, stroking, touching, lingering. He was beautiful, she thought, savoring the feel of his hard, warm flesh, the taut, smooth skin, the supple sinews. His masculine beauty inundated her senses, entrancing her.
“Yes… that’s it, sweeting… touch me.”
Holding her breath, she returned to his thick arousal and tentatively brushed the engorged length. It quivered at her touch.
Damien closed his eyes and let out a soft groan.
Immediately Vanessa drew back. “Did I hurt you?”
He gave a soft laugh. “Indeed, a pleasurable hurt. You can drive a man wild with such exquisite ministrations. Don’t stop, I beg you.”
She bit her lip, tinglingly aware of her newfound sense of feminine power, and yet she hesitated, her courage faltering.
Thankfully, Damien took the decision from her. Reaching up with a languid finger, he brushed her breast, which was hidden by the cambric bodice of her nightdress. Vanessa drew a sharp breath as her nipple peaked tightly beneath the thin fabric.
“Your nightdress, angel,” he queried softly, his voice dark velvet. “Must you leave it on?”
She went suddenly still. The thought of being naked with this man, of completely exposing her body to him, unnerved her, and yet, she knew he would not force her against her will. Again he was giving her a choice.
Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, she lifted her hips off the bed and drew the garment over her head, then let it drop to the floor. She heard Damien’s intake of breath, saw his intent gaze flare with pleasure.
Her cheeks flaming, she started to cover her naked bosom with her arms, but he held her hands away. “No… let me look at you.”
Shame and wanton excitement flowed through her at the possessive intimacy of his heated gaze.
“Your breasts are exquisite, angel, high and lush, the nipples like delicate rosebuds. You shouldn’t be ashamed to let me see them.”
At his brazen scrutiny, she felt her nipples begin to ache, her breasts grow heavy.
“Come to me, sweeting,” he commanded. Reaching out, he took her by the arms and drew her down to lie against him, her bare, aching breasts pressed to his chest. Vanessa went rigid at the intimate contact.
“Just lie here with me a moment,” he cajoled. “I want to feel you in my arms.”
Obeying, she lay still, her entire body vibrating with shock and desire at the hard, naked heat of him. His hands stroked her back and he held her lightly, as if waiting for her coiled-tight tension to fade.
Eventually it did; after a time she felt her rigid muscles soften, grow weak. Without haste Damien drew her even closer, to lie fully against him, his lithe, masculine form imprinting his maleness onto her. She could feel his arousal pulsing against her belly, his lips moving against her hair. A hypnotic languor stole over her, while a slow heat built inexorably between them.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, the question a husky whisper.
She drew a shaky breath. “No… don’t stop.”
His long fingers came back to lie alongside her jaw and slowly turned her face up to his. He meant to kiss her, she knew. She felt a delicious drifting of his warm breath across her parted lips, then the tender caress of his mouth as he coaxed hers open.
He kissed her very slowly, very carefully, a lingering, intimate knowing of her mouth. A vibrant shiver ran through her as his tongue delved inside, drinking deep. The last vestiges of her resistance dwindled at his inflaming kiss.
After a moment his hot mouth slid lower. His lips moved against her throat, his hand lightly caressing her body. Her breathing sharpened painfully when he found the rising swell of her breast; where his fingers touched, her skin seemed to burn.
Sensations of longing and desire surged inside her as her breast nested in his hand. With infinite care, Damien shifted their positions, pressing her onto her back, and bent over her. She started to tense, but then his searing breath touched her nipple, and her own breath turned to warm liquid in her lungs.
His lips traced a halo of kisses edging the aureole, then the rosy center. Instantly, all the fires he had aroused within her earlier again kindled to life, white-hot and urgent. She felt the same brazen, primal need she’d known in the conservatory among the roses.
His tongue glided slowly over a soft crest, and a weak trembling began in her limbs, a feverish yearning. Again his tongue touched the swollen flesh, tasting her, sliding over the distended surface of her nipple, igniting her senses. When his mouth closed around the hard bud with exquisite pressure, Vanessa arched up, wanting his mouth.
He sucked gently, sipping at her, and his erotic attentions drew a moan from her throat. He continued to lave the hard, aching peak, while his questing hand moved downward over her body with deliberate slowness, his fingers caressing her bare skin with soft strokes.
Her body was melting, yet she was unprepared when his hand slid between her shivering thighs to claim the womanly softness of her. She went rigid, pressing her hands against his shoulders in protest.
Damien rose above her, gazing down into her eyes intently. “Trust me, Vanessa. Together we can find where the stars are born.”
“I don’t know if-”
“Hush, angel.” His mouth dipped to touch hers. “Can you not recognize desire when you feel it?”
Slowly he parted her thighs again, his fingers tangling in the dark curls at the portal to her femininity. Her eyes squeezed shut, but she let him continue, not protesting when he began to stroke the soft female cleft, dewy with warmth. She gasped as he discovered the delicate bud hidden there.
Sensually, expertly, his thumb caressed her, sweeping away all thoughts of denial, the languid, tantalizing rhythm arousing a wild, relentless pleasure in her. She felt hot, feverish, throbbing. Her thighs fell open as he parted the sensitive skin of her inner lips.
A tremor rippled through her when he slid a long finger into her quivering flesh, finding her slick and wet.
“See, your honey flows for me,” he whispered with satisfaction, watching her flushed face.
Her head moved restlessly on the pillow as she surrendered to the magic of his wonderful, caressing hands.
The fingers were bolder now, exploring her with hot, slick strokes, learning the intimate secrets of her, lavishing sensuality on the melting folds of flesh, the slow thrusts a sweet, delicious torture.
Writhing now, Vanessa arched against his hand, seeking ease for the hot, pulsing ache between her thighs. She thought she might faint, but not from fear. Fear was no part of the tumultuous feelings surging through her.
“Are you ready for me, sweet angel?” he rasped. “I think yes…”
A fierce disappointment assailed her when his magic suddenly ceased, but he was only anointing his huge shaft with the slick wetness that seeped from her body. Then he moved over her, settling in the cradle of her thighs.
She felt his weight, the pressure of his powerful thighs against her bare skin, the controlled probing of his hardness.
Shivering helplessly, Vanessa stared up at him, a deep primal fear combined with excitement coursing through her. Their eyes locked as he eased the silken head into her quivering flesh.
She stiffened and gasped as the fiery brand intruded into the delicate softness of her, her newly sensitized body thrumming with panic and desire. Unbidden, her fear rose, yet he glided in smoothly, as if her body had been made expressly for him, for this.