“I am…this fire…” She was burning with need for him, her very core aching with flaming hunger.
Lifting himself up, he tore her nightdress the rest of the way, then shrugged out of his dressing gown and threw it to the carpet, baring his magnificent, powerful body. Kneeling between her spread thighs, he took her hips in his hands and bent to her.
When his magic mouth found her feminine center, her response was half scream, half sob-a helpless, pleading sound that turned to a keening cry as he ravished her with his sensual expertise, his lips stroking, his tongue plunging in deep. Her hands clenched in his hair as the fire built to a raging inferno, then finally erupted inside her.
When eventually she regained her senses, Marcus was kneeling over her, watching her, his eyes tender, his face taut and flushed with his effort at control.
“Please, don’t stop…” Arabella managed to begin a hoarse whisper.
He went utterly still. For a long moment they remained staring at each other, their gazes locked, time frozen in a moment so sharp, so raw, she could hear his heartbeat, feel the turbulent rhythm echo her own. She knew what caused his hesitation. He was her first lover, her only lover. The next step would be irrevocable.
“Marcus,” she whispered again, reaching for him.
His smile was solemn and enchanting, his voice low and hoarse as he replied, “I won’t stop.”
He lowered his body to hers, covering her, and eased her thighs wider with his. The tenderness in his eyes deepening, he bent to kiss her again. His mouth, which had been fierce and hungry before, gentled from ravishment to tantalizing seduction.
She could feel his hard length probing for entrance. As he pushed inside her a fraction of an inch, Arabella froze, but he brushed her temple with his lips. “Try to relax, Belle. I will be as careful as I can.”
With exquisite care, he pressed forward, gliding in slowly, slowly…his huge, swollen arousal stretching her flesh, filling her. There was a moment of pain, but it quickly subsided. Arabella felt only a throbbing fullness as at last he sank in the entire way.
Marcus held completely still so she could grow accustomed to his alien hardness, feathering light kisses over her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
After another moment, he began to move, withdrawing the slightest measure, then pressing in again. Meanwhile his hands were stimulating her breasts, softly kneading, his thumbs stroking the sensitive buds. Arabella trembled, then gasped as another streak of fire ignited deep and low inside her.
She hadn’t expected to be aroused this intensely so soon after his last devastating assault on her senses. But to her shock, the inferno began to build within her again. She was suddenly on fire. Marcus’s naked skin burned hers, his body setting hers ablaze. Her breath came in short panting bursts as her hips began to move of their own accord, seeking completion from him in a rhythm as old as time.
His breath as tortured as hers, Marcus braced his weight on his forearms and lifted his head to gaze down at her lovely face. He wanted to watch Arabella climax as he took her, wanted to watch her skin flush with passion as they consummated their union for the very first time.
And yet he could feel his control slipping, could feel his need and desire swelling to overwhelming proportions. He struggled to go slowly as Arabella writhed and moaned beneath him, but when she suddenly arched and cried out in ecstasy, he surrendered to his need with a hoarse cry of his own, his body clenching and spasming with the same blazing pleasure she was feeling.
The shattering, searing explosion left him gasping for breath. In the aftermath, Marcus collapsed upon her, trying to spare her the brunt of his weight, and lay there bonelessly as the fire slowly receded.
It was a long while before either one of them could breathe with any semblance of calm. Then slowly, with great care, he pulled out of her…flinching when she winced.
“Did I hurt you?” Marcus murmured in concern.
Shaking her head, she gazed up at him with a dazed, dreamy smile. “Fanny told me that lovemaking was supposed to be unpleasant the first time, but it wasn’t in the least.”
Relieved, he rolled onto his back and gathered Arabella in his arms, drawing her into the haven of his body.
Snuggling against him, she gave a deep, languid sigh. After a time she found her voice. “Is it always like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like fire. Like fiery…magic.”
He smiled faintly. “Almost never.”
She buried her face in his shoulder as if suddenly feeling embarrassed. “You probably felt nothing like magic-”
“You’re wrong, sweetheart. I felt it, believe me.”
Arabella eased back to peer up at him. “You are just trying to charm me.”
His laugh was soft, decisive. “If I had wanted to charm you, sweeting, I would have done so before we made love.”
His declaration must have reassured her for she closed her eyes again and relaxed against him with another blissful sigh. “I suppose so.”
Marcus exhaled as well, relishing the delight of having Arabella warm and naked in his arms. Fiery magic was an apt description, he thought, experiencing a sense of triumph and something even more profound: heartfelt exhilaration. Arabella’s passion was as vibrant and exciting as he’d known it would be, and so were the feelings she’d aroused in him. He had never felt more alive with a lover, more satisfied.
Holding her close, he pressed his face into her hair and breathed in her fragrant scent. He thought fleetingly of past lovers-of their seductive charms, the endless ways they’d tried to please him-but not one of them had ever succeeded in arousing such a stark hunger in him without even trying.
A dangerous hunger. His desire for Arabella had made him forget his rational mind, Marcus realized. He’d taken her virginity tonight without any concern for the consequences.
Yet whatever guilt he felt for deflowering her, he was able to reason away. It would have happened when he made her his bride. This was only sooner than either of them had expected. Still, he should have considered the possible repercussions. He could have gotten her with child tonight.
Marcus drew an uneven breath at the prospect of little Arabellas and even little Marcuses. He had always considered the responsibility of fathering children from an intellectual standpoint, if at all. He was resigned to fulfilling his duty to continue his titles and carry on his bloodlines.
The idea of being a father to Arabella’s children, however, not only held immense appeal but roused a profoundly primal emotion in him.
A faint smile curved Marcus’s mouth. Drew and Heath would laugh uproariously to hear him entertaining the notion of wanting a family. And to have said family, he would first have to persuade Arabella to wed him. But now there was no question that he would succeed. He would never let her go. Possessiveness had never gripped him so hard.
You are mine now, he thought, stroking her bare shoulder absently with his fingers.
At the caress, Arabella stirred in his arms, then raised her head to glance at his chamber door as if suddenly recalling where she was.
When she uncurled herself from him and started to rise, though, Marcus caught her arm before she could leave the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to my room. I shouldn’t be here.”
He drew her down to lie beside him once more. “You are spending the night with me. We have barely begun to explore the delights of lovemaking.”
“But the servants could discover us-”
“The servants have their own wing on another floor. And as long as you return before dawn, no one will see you.”
Rising himself, Marcus went to the washstand to fetch a wet cloth. When he returned to wash away the traces of his seed from Arabella’s thighs, the enchanting flush that rose to her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment.