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slow
down.”
    She shook her head quickly. Was he going to stop? She almost
moaned in frustration.
    Then she felt him move, felt his mouth, and nearly came off
the bed. His dark head nudged her thighs apart until his tongue had access.
Instantly she was enveloped in wholly unfamiliar sensations, ones that built
until she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore. Just as she was going to force
his head away, she shattered, colors dancing in time to his tongue as he lapped
at her orgasm, milking it until her last shudder.
    “You’re all mine,” he said quietly. As if he could sense the
fact that she wanted more, he moved fully atop her. He smelled like wood smoke
and spices. She inhaled deeply, tangling one hand in his dark hair as he bent
his head to kiss her ear.
    She was beginning to ache, her need rising as he continued
his caresses all over her body. When Rhys drew back, she couldn’t suppress a
small sound of disappointment. Then his cravat fluttered to the floor, brushing
past her cheek in a silken caress.
    Marissa’s breath caught as she stared upward. Firelight
bathed his well-muscled chest in warm light, flickering down his flat stomach. He
was blatantly, superbly aroused, a fact that made her blush and feel smug all
at once. All those women throwing themselves at him, yet Rhys had chosen her.
    At least for tonight.
    She refused to let her thoughts dwell upon that topic any
longer. Cautiously she reached out and ran a finger up one hard thigh, watching
intently, curiously, as his face telegraphed his pleasure.
    He allowed her to touch him for a few long moments before making
his move. She felt his hand part her thighs as he kissed her, his tongue
flitting against her lips, teasing them apart before withdrawing tantalizingly,
creating a rising sense of urgency she sensed wasn’t going to so easily abate.
    She had expected to be able to keep her wits about her, but
they were being driven away by Rhys’ relentless caresses, his burning kisses,
his dominant weight atop her. She let out an involuntary cry of pleasure as she
felt him part her thighs, then almost immediately gasped in discomfort as he entered
her. His broad head parted her folds slowly yet inexorably, pausing just long
enough to allow her to adapt to his girth.
    “Easy, cariad . Relax for me.” The Welsh endearment
seemed to come easily to his lips. She opened her eyes briefly, aware that he
was holding himself very still. She tried to watch his face, to keep her eyes
open, but when he moved the sensation was overwhelming.
    Rhys bent to kiss the hollow of her throat. He was driving
her mad, tantalizing her skin with wicked, never-ending caresses, sending her
need spiraling through the roof.
    “Please, Rhys…” Marissa whispered the words, unable to bear
it any longer.
    Then he was moving within her, driving her to further
heights. She arched against him, wrapping her legs around his waist as the
world dissolved into splinters of pleasure. Moments later, he tensed in her
embrace, spilling within her with a low growl of satisfaction. She could feel
him jerking as he finished, one of his hands immediately stroking a stray
strand of hair from her forehead as if seeing to her comfort was of paramount
importance even in the face of his own ultimate pleasure.
    Exhausted, Marissa rested her head on his shoulder,
listening to his heartbeat. No words she could utter would be able to
adequately express how Rhys had just made her feel, so she simply lay quietly,
enjoying being with him.
    She had wanted this—but it had to end now. There was no way
Marissa would be able to share Rhys with another woman. Rhys was a baron, he
would want a well-bred, proper lady for his wife, and she could never be his
mistress.
    Just once. It had been worth it. She would leave him
in the morning.
    * * * * *
    Rhys looked down at the sleeping woman, bewildered by the
amount of pleasure she had brought him. He’d called her cariad . He
remembered his mother calling his father by