Danger Wears White (9 page)

“Does that feel weak? But you’re my savior. I’d be a poor man if I thanked you in this way. I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

She took umbrage at that remark. As if she had no choice in the matter. “Take advantage? I should strike you for that. But you’ve suffered too much hurt already. I can’t. How are you feeling?”

He tried to move away but she refused to release him. She pulled him back. His smile was rueful. “Sweetheart, if I don’t let you go now, I don’t think I will be doing it for some time.”

“I don’t want you to.” She bit her lip. “But you should rest.”

“I am resting. Here, with you. Don’t tempt me, please.”

The plea pushed her the rest of the way. She had to persuade him somehow or spend the rest of her life regretting it. “I want you.”

This close she saw the way his pupils widened. “I want you too. Never doubt that. But I cannot. How can I despoil what isn’t my right to take?”

“It’s your right if I give it to you.” She needed to tell him the truth. Well, not all of it. “I’m not married, nor am I likely to. I’m a maid, but I want you to take it as a gift. My virginity.”

His shock was evident in the way he froze, every part of his body stilling. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s mine. If I want to give it away, I will.”

He swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Are you up to the task?”

Her inadvertent
double entendre
gave him a smile, and his body relaxed against her when he laughed. All but one part. “Yes, I’d say so. I’ve suffered much worse in my time, and seen worse, too. Your prompt action saved me from harm, and Young George worked like a Trojan to reinforce what you started.”

“What did he do?”

“Washed out the wound every hour. Every trace of infection is gone. He fetched some brandy last night that you’re not supposed to know about, so don’t go telling him that I told you.”

Now he made her laugh, and on the heels of her laughter, he kissed her.

Mirth stopped, and passion took its place. At his taste, every part of her body strained up to him. Her yearning became undeniable.

Especially when he spread one hand over her waist and slid it up her body to touch that part of her breast that swelled above her stays. It felt so good, his warmth and the way he was stroking her, that she wanted more. She unfastened the first hook. He groaned. She kept going.

After brushing her hand away, he took over, rapidly unhooking her stays, and then broke their kiss at last. When he opened his eyes, the pupil was nearly all black. “Why don’t all women have their stays made that way?”

“They do.” He couldn’t have seen many women in their everyday wear. For some reason that made her happy. With a wicked smile, she wriggled, and the stays fell away.

He touched her as if she were sacred, feathering his fingers down her breast to the edge of her shift. When he pulled the bow undone, nothing stopped him pushing it out of the way. He made careful work of it, his fingers shaking against her flesh.

Anticipation made her center dampen. She bit her lip, trying to push some control back into her wayward body, but he smiled and dropped a kiss on her mouth.

“Take off your shirt,” she said.

“It’s all I have on.”

Seeing the justice in tit for tat when he sat up to pull his shirt over his head, she loosened the strings of her skirts and kicked them off, bending to remove her garters, stockings and shoes. She had a problem with one of the garters, her fingers trembling on the knot, but she took them off and turned back to him.

He was half-propped up against the wall behind the bed, his body on blatant display. Her attention went first to the white bandage bound over his upper arm. There was no sign of blood, no swelling or redness. She breathed out in relief, a deep sigh that he seemed clean of infection. And something else, that masculine gloriousness, all for her. He smiled. “Like what you see?”

He lay back, not reaching for her but letting her take the lead.

“May I touch?”

“Anything you like.”

She spread her hand on his chest. It was covered in a light dusting of dark hair, abrasive to her palm. He shuddered, adding vibrations to the warmth.

His heart beat strongly, pounding against his chest. He wasn’t unaffected by her touch and that pleased her.

“You’re strong.”

“Years of soldiering.”

“Are you still a soldier?”

He shook his head. “I—no, I’m not.”

“Are you looking for work?” An idea occurred to her. Why not have him working here?”

“You could say that.” He covered her hand with his. “Don’t think about that now. We have much to talk about, but not yet. Please.” He squeezed her hand warmly. “I should tell you so many things, but I can’t. And if you don’t take off that shift I’ll rip it from you.”

He said it in such a reasonable tone she nearly missed it, but then her attention flew to his face and she gasped.

“Let me see you, Emmy.”

She loved the way he said that. Although not her real name, it was close enough to give her shivers. Without another word, she sat up and lifted the thigh-length garment, slowly revealing her body to him. She’d never shown a man her body before. She cast her gaze down, worried he wouldn’t like her or that he’d change his mind.

He tucked his hand under her chin, urging her to lift it. “Look at me.”

Heat rushing to her face, she acceded to his request.

“Emmy, you’re beautiful. I’m humbled that you decided to let me make love to you. I don’t deserve this honor, but I’ll do my best.”

Her subterfuge, letting him believe she was a servant, returned to plague her, but she couldn’t tell him now, because he’d stop. Now she’d come so far she couldn’t bear it. Desires invaded her usually rational mind. She wanted to taste him, lick him, and touch him. Claim him.

For the first time, she dared to look down. He’d shoved the sheet out of the way so his body was on blatant display.

She’d seen men’s organs before, of course, but not in this state. It was long, hard, and thick, covered with fine skin, the tip appearing like sheared velvet, that most delicate of fabrics. A drop of clear liquid escaped from the tip. That would penetrate her soon. She’d seen the animals do it, and she knew the mechanics of the act, but had imagined she’d never learn how her kind did it. Certainly not as fiercely as horses or the bull on its mate.
Or so fast
, she thought with a rueful smile.

“You find it amusing?” He spoke softly, a smile in his voice.

“No, not that, but—” She shook her head. Impossible to explain. Emotions coursed through her, following each other faster than she could analyze them. Tension rose high, stopping her throat.

“Lie down, sweetheart. Let me pleasure you.”

She nodded, and when he moved over, did as he asked, carefully shifting until she was lying on her back. The heat of his body radiated along her whole length as he rose on one elbow and leaned over her. She didn’t feel overwhelmed, but spread her palm over his chest and smiled. She loved the heat and strength of him and the way he let her touch.

His shaft lay along her upper thigh, but she dared not touch it. Everything was too strange yet, and she wasn’t ready to explore as fully as she yearned. Reticence still ruled her. She was afraid of what she might do wrong. This was foreign country.

With a smile as intimate as their naked bodies, he touched her. He appeared to have no problems from his injured arm, but spread his hand on her stomach and up to her breast, cupping it. She glanced down, astonished at the depth of feeling he evoked with that simple gesture. He stroked and tingles spread from her breast through her whole body, down her spine to her groin.

She gasped and he smiled. “Tell me when I do something you particularly like.”

“I like it all.”

He bent and kissed her, his tongue tickling her mouth, and he closed his hand over her nipple, pinched it. Her resulting yelp made him smile through their kiss, and he lifted his lips from hers. “You are sweet and lovely. I should call you honey.”

“Please don’t. Honey is sticky and cloying.”

“I aim to make you sticky, but I don’t think you could ever become cloying. Very well, I will call you Emmy and sweetheart and any other names that might occur to me. We’ll see which ones you like. But I need to know what you taste like first.”

For the instant it took him to turn away, she caught an expression in his face that looked very much like stark hunger. His eyes widened and his mouth opened as if he wanted to devour her.

Tony sucked her nipple deep. She cried out before she clapped her hand over her mouth, afraid someone would hear. But nobody did except the man torturing her. He grazed her breast with his tongue and licked the tip.

He broke away. “You taste so good. Strawberries and honey and you. Most of all you.” Scattering kisses over her breasts, he continued lower, stroking her like she did when she was soothing an animal.

They had cats in the house, mostly to catch vermin, but occasionally she liked to have one purr on her lap while she riffled her fingers through its soft fur. He touched her in that way, but his fingertips shook.

Smoothing lower, he touched the hair at her groin. He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes as he insinuated his fingers lower, and finally along the crease that defined the area between her legs. He touched the extra-sensitive knot of flesh, and she jolted, shocked at the intensity of her response.

“That’s it. Do you like that?”

“I-I don’t know. I didn’t know I could—it’s almost hurting.”

He touched the spot again, gently. She could bear it this time, respond by opening her legs so he could move easier between them.

“Good girl. More? You’ll enjoy it, I swear you will. But if anything is too much, let me know.”

“Do you like to be touched?”

“Yes.” But when she reached for him, he moved away, just a little bit. “Not now. This is for you. We’ll explore, I promise, but this time I want to make everything good for you. It’s important, your first time. I want you to come.”

“Come?”

“Orgasm. I want you to feel that peak of sensation. Many women don’t, not their first time, but you will. I can help you like this.”

And yes, he was moving his fingers against that—part of her. “What is it?” Every part of the body had a name. Some had several. Jagged shots of sensation arced through her, up her spine, and spread in her head and to her fingertips.

“It’s your clitoris, and it’s made for this. Wait, sweetheart. Let me try this.”

He shuffled down the bed, a little awkward because he had to take all his weight on his right arm, but when he spread her to expose her clitoris, she let him, despite the flush of embarrassment that heated her all the way through. The prickly heat added to her arousal, but when he lay between her legs and put his mouth on her clitoris, she cried out in shock. This time her hand stayed over her mouth. As if acting on instinct, she slid her heels up and lifted her knees, making more room for his big body. He murmured his encouragement against her skin and then went back to his task. He sucked and licked. She twisted beneath him, but he held her steady, one big hand on her stomach.

The tingles sending her into a frenzy coalesced and then peaked. Afraid of losing control, she gritted her teeth and held on, until she recalled his words. He wouldn’t do this to her if he thought she would come to harm. She had to trust him.

So she released all her control and gave it to him. Reaching down, she clutched his shoulder, holding on for dear life, letting the frissons build and collect, her whole body rippling in response to his actions.

He touched a finger to her opening and pushed inside, just a little. Shocked, she held on and let go.

Shivers racked her body, and she yelped. Powerful waves coursed through her and she arched her back, whimpering into her fist, biting down, her mind closing to rational thought. Sensation ruled her.

He licked and sucked until her shudders subsided, became controllable again so when he slid back up to her, still lying between her legs, she could smile at him. His mouth was swollen and wet with her juices. He’d tasted her as intimately as possible. She’d given him the freedom to take whatever he wanted, and there was more to come.

“I eased you open, but there might be some discomfort. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Of course. He hadn’t penetrated her yet. “Yes.” If he stopped now she might hurt him. “I want it all. I want to know what it feels like. Please, Tony.”

“You never have to say please to me.” He frowned, but the smile returned. “I want to kiss you, but I have your flavor all over me.”

“I want to know what I taste like on your lips.”

With a groan, he bent and kissed her. She opened eagerly for him, licking into his mouth to share her taste. Odd, but not unpleasant. And so arousing. She could smell herself, too. On him.

He lifted his head. “Don’t close your eyes. I can see if I’m causing you too much distress.” Taking his shaft in his hand, he guided it to her.

The smooth head of his cock nudged just outside, but with him watching her she knew no fear. Only eager anticipation. “Should I do anything?”

“Hold still. Push back against me, but don’t tense. Try to relax as much as you can.”

She laughed shakily. “Relax?”

He joined in her laughter and eased in a tiny bit more.

Her laughter ended in a gasp when he thrust in, stretching her. “Harder,” she said. “One push.”

Gazing into her eyes, he did as she bade him, driving into her in two relentless, hard thrusts. The first took her virginity. A sharp pain shot through her groin, making her cry out. But she knew it would hurt and the pain didn’t shock her. She accepted it and absorbed it, as she did with other pains.

The second thrust took him deep into her. He stopped. Despite the coolness of the night sweat broke out on his forehead and his upper arms.

“Are you all right?”

He shook his head slightly. “You never fail to amaze me. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “Well, are you?”

Experimentally, she moved a little. “I’m fine. It feels odd, but I think I like it.”