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secret yet.
He touched the hard tip of her breast and watched her shiver. "You beautiful creature," he said half
under his breath. "I only hope I can do you justice."
While she was searching for the right words to make her confession, his head bent and his mouth
suddenly opened right on her breast.
She caught his head, her nails biting into his scalp.
He lifted himself just enough to see her worried eyes. "I'm only going to suckle you," he said with
soft surprise, wondering what sort of lover Charles Percy must have been to make her so afraid. "I
won't hurt you."
He bent again, and this time she didn't protest. She couldn't. It was so sweet that it made her head spin
to feel his hot, hard, moist mouth closing over the tight nipple. She moaned under her breath and
writhed with pleasure. He nibbled her for a long time, moving slowly from one breast to the other
while his hand traced erotic patterns on her belly and the insides of her thighs.
She barely noticed when he removed her briefs and then his own. His practiced caresses overwhelmed
her. She was so enthralled by them that she ached to know him completely.
A long, feverish few minutes later, he moved between her long legs and his mouth pushed hard
against her lips as his hips eased down against hers and he penetrated her.
The sensation was shocking, frightening. She drifted from a euphoric tension to harsh pain. Her nails
bit into his broad shoulders and she called his name. But he was in over his head, all too quickly. He
groaned harshly and pushed harder, crying out as he felt her envelope him.
"Oh...!" she sobbed, pushing against his chest.
He stilled for an instant, shuddering, and lifted tortured eyes to hers. "I'm hurting you?" he whispered
shakenly. "Dear God... no, sweetheart!... don't move like that...!"
She shifted her hips in an effort to avoid the pain, and her sharp movements took him right over the
edge.
His face tautened. He pushed, hard, his body totally out of control. "Oh, God, Tira, I'm so sorry...!" he
said through his teeth, his eyes closed, his body suddenly urgent on hers.
He whispered it constantly until he completed his possession of her, and seconds later, he arched and
shuddered and cried out in a hoarse groan as completion left him exhausted and shivering on her
damp body.
She felt him relax heavily onto her damp skin, so that she could barely breathe for the weight. She
wept silently at the reality of intimacy. It wasn't glorious fireworks of ecstasy at all. It was just a
painful way to give a man pleasure. She hated him. She hated herself more for giving in.
"Please," she choked. "Let me go."
There was a pause. He drew in a long breath. "Not on your life," he said huskily.
He lifted his head and stared into her eyes with an expression on his lean face that she couldn't begin
to understand.
"Charles Percy," he said deliberately, "is definitely not your lover."
She swallowed and her face flamed. "I...I never said he was, not really," she stammered.
He supported himself on the prosthesis and looked down at what he could see of her damp, shivering
body. He touched her delicately on her stomach and then trailed his hand down to her thighs. There
was a smear of blood on them that seemed to capture his attention for a moment.
"Simon, it hurts," she whispered, embarrassed.
His eyes went back to hers. "I know," he replied gently. His hand moved gently between her long legs
to where their bodies were still completely joined, and she caught his wrist, gasping.
"Shhh," he whispered. Ignoring her protests, he began to touch her.
Shocked at the sudden burst of unexpected pleasure, her wide eyes went homing to his. Her mouth
opened as the breath came careening out of her. She caught his shoulders again, digging her nails in.
This was...it was... Her eyes closed and she moaned harshly and shivered.
"That's it," he whispered, easing his mouth down onto hers as she shivered and shivered again. "This
isn't going to hurt. Open your mouth. I want you to know me completely, in every way there is." His
hips moved slowly, and he felt her whole body jump as his sensual caresses began to kindle a
frightening sweet tension in her. "I'm going to teach you to feel pleasure."
She gripped his shoulders and held on, her eyes closed as his mouth worked its way even deeper into
her own. She moved her legs around his muscular thighs to help him, to bring him into even closer
contact, and gasped when she felt his invasion of her grow even more powerful, more insistent. The
pain was still there, but it didn't matter anymore, because there was such pleasure overlaying it. She
wanted him!
She heard her own voice sobbing, pleading with him, as the frenzy of pleasure grew to unbearable
proportions. She was beyond pride, beyond protest. He was giving her pleasure of a sort she'd never
dreamed existed. She belonged to him, was part of him, owned by him.
His movements grew urgent, deep. He whispered something into her open mouth but she couldn't hear
him anymore. She was focused on some dark, sweet goal, every muscle straining toward it, her
heartbeat pulsing in time with it, her tense body lifting to meet his as she pleaded for it.
His hips shifted all at once in a violent, hard rhythm that brought the ecstasy rushing over her like a
wave of white-hot sensation. She cried out endlessly as it swept her away, her body pressing to his in a
convulsive arch as the pleasure went on and on and on and she couldn't get close enough...!
This time, she didn't feel the weight of him as he collapsed onto her exhausted body. She held him
tightly, pulsing in the soft aftermath, her legs trembling as they curled around his. She could hear his
ragged breathing as she heard her own.
A long time later, he lifted his head and looked down into her wide eyes. He smiled at the faint shock
in them. "Yes," he whispered. "It was good, wasn't it?"
She made an embarrassed sound and hid her face against him.
He smiled against her hair. "I thought it would never stop," he whispered huskily, brushing damp
strands of hair away from her lips, her eyes as he turned her toward him. "I've never been fulfilled so
completely in all my life."
She searched his eyes, seeing such tenderness in them that she felt warm all over. She reached up and
touched his damp face with pure wonder, from his thick eyebrows to his wide, firm mouth and his
stubborn chin. She couldn't even speak.
"You must be the only twenty-eight-year-old virgin in Texas ," he murmured, and he wasn't joking.
His eyes were solemn. "Did you save it for me, all these years?"
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