along.
"My, my, Caro," he murmured, "how pretty you are."
His thumb was twirling her nipple, making it ache, making it throb.
"Ian!" She was begging for something, but not for him to desist!
"Is this what you wanted? Is this what you came for? I'm about to give you what you've obviously been needing."
He bent down and took her nipple in his mouth, and he sucked on it as a babe would its mother, though with none of the tender ministration. He was rough and demanding, his teeth nipping at it till she was a thrashing ball of misery.
He rooted to the other, and soon he was shifting back and forth between the two. As he kept on, his hand slithered down her stomach, her abdomen. He fiddled with the string on her drawers, then crept inside, continuing on to her womanly hair and lower.
He spread her nether lips, his fingers gliding into her privates. They seemed to fit just right, to scratch an itch she hadn't known she was suffering. He stroked in and out, the tempo so mesmerizing that her sheath wept with joy at the fondling.
She was embarrassed and tried to press her legs together, tried to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge.
"You are so ready," he muttered.
"For what?"
"For me, darling. For me." "What are you doing? I feel as if I might explode." "You just might," he said, worrying her as to what was approaching.
"Oh ... oh..." she panted. "Stop! Please!"
"No."
"I can't... I can't..." "Almost there."
"Where?" she anxiously questioned. "Where are we?"
His thumb flicked out, jabbing at a spot she'd never noted before. He poked at it again and again, as he suckled her nipple with all his might.
She splintered, her anatomy seeming to careen off in all directions. She was flying through the universe, blinded by ecstasy, as if pitched toward a precipice she couldn't locate.
Ultimately, she reached it, and she cried out, then began the journey down, floating forever in a sea of bliss and lassitude that totally engulfed her. She'd been paralyzed, her limbs were rubbery, and she was relieved to be lying down. If she'd been standing, she'd have collapsed in a stunned heap.
She landed, safe and secure in his arms. While she'd had her world shattered, her entire being ripped asunder and rearranged, he appeared relaxed and even a tad bored. How could she have been utterly undone, and he not fazed?
At having reduced her to such a pathetic state, he oozed with male arrogance.
"Are you feeling better?" he queried.
"As a matter of fact, I am."
She was far beyond the day when she'd grovel or shy away.
"What were you hoping to accomplish by coming here?"
"Precisely this, I suppose."
"You suppose? Didn't you know?"
"I'm a spinster, for pity's sake. How could I guess what would transpire?"
He flopped onto his back and gazed at the ceiling. With their ardor cooling, she was chilled, and she scooted nearer, seeking his body's warmth.
Her life was so sterile, her encounters with men so stilted and formal that she'd never imagined the sort of intimacy they'd just shared. She wanted more of it; she wanted all he had to give. She was tired of being unloved and unwanted, and she was certain that if she wed grumpy, elderly Edward, she'd be more isolated than ever.
"What should I do with you, Caro?" he inquired.
"Am I still a virgin?"
He sighed. "Yes, you are."
"How would I know if you ..."
"There's a bit more to it."
"What occurs?"
He sighed again. "May I take you home now? Or is your carriage parked out behind the house?"
He would send her home? Now? After what they'd done? How could he?
Her spirits flagged.
She felt as if he'd opened a door to a secret room she hadn't known to exist. She wished there were a mirror next to the bed. She was positive—that if she stared into one—she'd look different, yet he was exactly the same. How could he be so impervious?
"Do you really want me to go?" she shamed herself by asking.
"No, but what good would it do to have you remain?"
"We could spend a few hours together."
"We
"My, my, Caro," he murmured, "how pretty you are."
His thumb was twirling her nipple, making it ache, making it throb.
"Ian!" She was begging for something, but not for him to desist!
"Is this what you wanted? Is this what you came for? I'm about to give you what you've obviously been needing."
He bent down and took her nipple in his mouth, and he sucked on it as a babe would its mother, though with none of the tender ministration. He was rough and demanding, his teeth nipping at it till she was a thrashing ball of misery.
He rooted to the other, and soon he was shifting back and forth between the two. As he kept on, his hand slithered down her stomach, her abdomen. He fiddled with the string on her drawers, then crept inside, continuing on to her womanly hair and lower.
He spread her nether lips, his fingers gliding into her privates. They seemed to fit just right, to scratch an itch she hadn't known she was suffering. He stroked in and out, the tempo so mesmerizing that her sheath wept with joy at the fondling.
She was embarrassed and tried to press her legs together, tried to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge.
"You are so ready," he muttered.
"For what?"
"For me, darling. For me." "What are you doing? I feel as if I might explode." "You just might," he said, worrying her as to what was approaching.
"Oh ... oh..." she panted. "Stop! Please!"
"No."
"I can't... I can't..." "Almost there."
"Where?" she anxiously questioned. "Where are we?"
His thumb flicked out, jabbing at a spot she'd never noted before. He poked at it again and again, as he suckled her nipple with all his might.
She splintered, her anatomy seeming to careen off in all directions. She was flying through the universe, blinded by ecstasy, as if pitched toward a precipice she couldn't locate.
Ultimately, she reached it, and she cried out, then began the journey down, floating forever in a sea of bliss and lassitude that totally engulfed her. She'd been paralyzed, her limbs were rubbery, and she was relieved to be lying down. If she'd been standing, she'd have collapsed in a stunned heap.
She landed, safe and secure in his arms. While she'd had her world shattered, her entire being ripped asunder and rearranged, he appeared relaxed and even a tad bored. How could she have been utterly undone, and he not fazed?
At having reduced her to such a pathetic state, he oozed with male arrogance.
"Are you feeling better?" he queried.
"As a matter of fact, I am."
She was far beyond the day when she'd grovel or shy away.
"What were you hoping to accomplish by coming here?"
"Precisely this, I suppose."
"You suppose? Didn't you know?"
"I'm a spinster, for pity's sake. How could I guess what would transpire?"
He flopped onto his back and gazed at the ceiling. With their ardor cooling, she was chilled, and she scooted nearer, seeking his body's warmth.
Her life was so sterile, her encounters with men so stilted and formal that she'd never imagined the sort of intimacy they'd just shared. She wanted more of it; she wanted all he had to give. She was tired of being unloved and unwanted, and she was certain that if she wed grumpy, elderly Edward, she'd be more isolated than ever.
"What should I do with you, Caro?" he inquired.
"Am I still a virgin?"
He sighed. "Yes, you are."
"How would I know if you ..."
"There's a bit more to it."
"What occurs?"
He sighed again. "May I take you home now? Or is your carriage parked out behind the house?"
He would send her home? Now? After what they'd done? How could he?
Her spirits flagged.
She felt as if he'd opened a door to a secret room she hadn't known to exist. She wished there were a mirror next to the bed. She was positive—that if she stared into one—she'd look different, yet he was exactly the same. How could he be so impervious?
"Do you really want me to go?" she shamed herself by asking.
"No, but what good would it do to have you remain?"
"We could spend a few hours together."
"We
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