He guided her fingers to the enormous bulge in his breeches, and Arabella shivered. Knowing how much he wanted her roused a pulsing ache between her thighs and left her breathless with her own longing.
In unspoken agreement, they quickened their pace until they reached the line of trees that flanked the river and sheltered them from sight of the manor. They had to slow as they pushed through a glade, but the moment they came out into the moonlight again, Marcus halted and dragged Arabella against him, seizing her mouth in a fierce possession.
Their kiss exploded in a passionate blaze. The heat he generated ignited sparks in Arabella’s blood, filling her with savage hunger. She wanted him with a ferocity that shocked her.
Desperate to touch him, she reached down and fumbled at the front placket of his breeches. Marcus inhaled sharply at her boldness, but then hastened to help her, almost ripping at the buttons in order to free his rigid length.
It was Arabella’s turn to inhale when she saw the dark, pulsing shaft thrust proudly out from his sleek loins.
“Come here,” he demanded.
She obeyed, needing no further urging.
Swiftly, he raised her skirts to her waist and cupped the silken curls between her thighs. She was already shamelessly wet for him, and his eyes flared darkly in response. She could see his face in the moonlight-hard, beautiful, taut with desire-and knew the same desire was written on her features as he probed her feminine folds.
Arabella bit back a gasp as he stroked the sensitive bud of her sex and arched against him when he buried a long finger deep inside her. Only the need for discretion kept her from moaning in wild pleasure.
Her response apparently wasn’t wild enough for Marcus, though. His midnight-blue eyes smoldering, he insinuated his muscular leg between hers and slid his hands around her hips to her derriere, then lifted her up.
Startled by his unexpected action, Arabella clung to his shoulders for balance.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered in a rough command.
“Marcus…”
He kissed her urgently again, drinking in any protest as his tongue thrust deeply into her mouth. Below, his arousal penetrated her cleft and forged in with a slow, inexorable pressure. Her body was soft and yielding, accepting the hard strength of his, but even so, Arabella gasped at the searing feel of his claiming.
Marcus captured the sound with his mouth. With his legs braced wide, he anchored her against him and drove in the rest of the way, till he was sheathed deeply inside her.
Arabella trembled in his arms as her flesh swelled tightly around his large possession. It was breathtaking, being filled by him this way. Breathtaking and stunning in intensity.
He held her locked securely against him and began to move his hips, withdrawing and then surging upward, plunging in long, forceful strokes. She shuddered at the impact as he drove himself into her, huge and hard, pumping in a demanding, arousing rhythm while his mouth devoured hers.
His raw desire left her shaken; his hungry plundering made her wild. Moaning, she writhed against him, matching her movements to his with frenzied abandon.
It was hard and fast and thrilling…and utterly explosive. The inferno broke over them at the same moment, splintering shards of fiery sensation through them both. Arabella sobbed against his mouth while Marcus staggered at the powerful convulsions, his arms clenching around her. Reeling with desire, he drank in her helpless cries, rendering his own hoarse groans as he poured himself into her.
He was still gasping for breath when she sagged against him. He thrust into her savagely one last time, then went still except for the racking tremors that continued to buffet him.
They remained fused together for a long while, vibrating with aftershocks. Even when their bodies ceased their wild quaking, Marcus held Arabella tightly, savoring the feel of her.
Finally, though, he eased her to her feet, supporting her with his embrace when she leaned limply against him, too weak to stand on her own.
Marcus’s low curse was ragged in the hushed quiet of the night. “Damnation…no finesse again.”
The husky, exhausted laughter that tumbled from her lips touched him even more than her wild response had done, but he couldn’t excuse his own wildness. He pressed his lips against her hair in apology for his savagery. “Forgive me, Belle. I haven’t lost control like that since I was a callow youth, but I couldn’t wait.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” she rasped against his shoulder. “I couldn’t wait, either.”
He could hear the laughter in her voice, the pleasure, the contentment, and another fierce stab of desire pierced him.
Then Arabella raised her head and looked up at him, her beautiful face glowing in the moonlight. His heart turned over at the sight.
“I had no idea it was possible to make love that way,” she whispered almost shyly.
He’d had no idea, either. He had never made love with such frenzy. The frantic urgency had left him gasping. He’d never felt such bliss with anyone but Arabella. The satisfaction of making love to her was shattering.
Perhaps it was her inexperience. Every aspect of lovemaking was very new to her, and her wonder and delight made it seem new to him, too. Tonight, however, she had responded to him with an ardent passion that had stolen his breath, his very heart-
Marcus suddenly went very still as the stunning realization shot through him.
He had fallen in love with Arabella. How else could he explain the powerful emotions he felt for her?
The thought jolted him badly; his head was reeling, his heart racing.
Yet he no longer had any doubt. He loved her.
It should have come as no surprise, he mused as he searched her face a little dazedly. Not when he felt such overwhelming possessiveness toward Arabella. Not when he felt such pleasure whenever he was with her. Such contentment. Such simple joy.
No woman had ever affected him as Arabella did; no one had ever come close. She supplied the fire that had been missing from his life.
Drew and Heath would call him mad-and perhaps he was. He’d been smitten, there was no other way to explain the feeling of tenderness and excitement that swept over him when he merely thought of Arabella. He’d never felt this profound need to be with someone the way he did with her.
Marcus inhaled a steadying breath. He hadn’t counted on developing an unexpected ardor for his beautiful ward. So now what the devil was he to do about it?
He found himself frowning. Arabella had stormed the defenses of his heart while hers remained still intact. He felt his gut clench, realizing he faced a much greater dilemma than winning their wager. He wouldn’t settle for a marriage of convenience with her now. Not when he finally recognized the depth of his feelings.
But winning Arabella’s heart would be an even more daunting task than gaining her hand in marriage.
“What is wrong?” she asked when he continued staring at her.
Marcus schooled his expression to nonchalance. She wouldn’t believe him if he told her; any professions of love he made would be considered mere blandishments in his effort to seduce her.
“Nothing is wrong,” he lied. “I was only contemplating how beautiful you are in the moonlight.”
The soft smile that curved her mouth made his heart quicken, but it started racing again when she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“I had best return to the house,” she whispered, “before my sisters realize I am gone.”
No, I won’t let you go, Marcus thought fiercely. He was conscious of a savage urge to carry Arabella far away from here, a primal craving to keep her captive, in his sole possession, until she finally agreed to wed him and give him her heart.
Yet force wouldn’t gain her surrender, he knew. She didn’t trust him enough to love him. Didn’t trust him not to hurt her.