His Perfect Passion (5 page)

“Do you feel me?”

“Y…yes.”

Oh, yes, I feel you.

“It’s all because of you, Marianne. You do that to me. I get so hard for you, wanting you.” He swept his lips up her neck. “Push back against me. Press your body to mine. You want to!” Pulling her more firmly against him, he ground upward, slowly rocking his erection into her, all the while caressing her neck with his lips. “You make me happy, Marianne. So sweet, you smell like violets. Next to me like this, you are perfection.”

She let the sensations float her. Wrapped in Darius’s protective embrace, well-being enfolded her. The staff pressing on her felt huge. Marianne was aware of the basic mechanics. She’d heard the stories and had friends who were already married. Darius would put that huge, hard piece of flesh into her. Would it hurt? It was said to hurt the first time. Would it bring pleasure? The sly comments and giggles of her married friends suggested it might. She knew it brought pleasure for the man and was the only way to start a child growing. That men liked to do it often. That’s what she’d been told by her friends at least.

Right now, the kissing and stroking of his tongue upon her neck gave her pleasure. Still, she was curious and wanted to know more. Darius did that to her. Made her willing to do things she had never dreamed of doing. She would have done anything he asked her to do in this moment. Marianne could not ever remember feeling so cherished.

“Your gift.” He turned her and pulled out a box from his pocket. She opened the jeweler’s box to see a matched string of pearls, bearing a glowing crucifix pendant with a diamond center.

She snapped her face up to meet his. “Oh, Darius. It is so, so beautiful. I love it. A great many gifts you are giving to me. Such a generous man you are.”

He was a great mystery to be solved. Why did he care so much, or at least treat her so? She didn’t deserve all he was giving to her.

“You will wear it for me, Marianne.”

“I want to wear it for you, Darius.”

Chapter Six

His note arrived in the morning.

My beautiful Marianne,

I will send the carriage to collect you today at one o’clock. Wear your new riding outfit—the blue one. I have a surprise and await you eagerly.

D. R.

He greeted her with a kiss to her forehead and then pulled back to peruse her from head to toe.

“The color suits you, Marianne. You wear that blue very well.”

“I haven’t ridden in over a year.”

“I’m sure it will all come back to you. Riding skill is not something one forgets. I just know you’ll be splendid, but I am more than happy to help you if you need it.” He seemed excited, smiling like a boy awaiting a treat, she thought.

She cried out when she saw her “surprise.” The lovely gray horse standing in the stall was her own, Tempest. Or, at least she had been Marianne’s horse before financial ruin had forced her sale. “Tempest?” Marianne petted her neck and leaned forward. “I can hardly believe she’s real.”

“For you, Marianne. She is yours once more.”

Marianne whirled around to face him. “Darius? How did you know?” Her throat tight, she could hardly speak.

“Your father told me she had been sold to the Hallborough estate. The owner is a good friend and was happy to let her go. I bought her back is all.” Darius looked at her questioningly. “Shall we ride?”

They traversed inland, skirting over stones and grass until they reached a copse of trees. Darius announced it was a good place to stop and rest the horses. His strong arms reached for her and brought her down to stand on firm ground. He did not release her, but looked into her eyes. “What is bothering you?”

“Nothing,” she said stiffly, knowing her answer would not be satisfactory to Darius. He would demand an explanation from her now. And she knew she would give it to him.

“Yes, there is something. You are melancholy, I can see it clear as day. Tell me.” He rephrased it for her. “You want to tell me, Marianne.”

Feeling a wash of relief fold over her, she lowered her gaze and whispered, “I–I don’t deserve all of this.” She shifted her eyes to rest upon Tempest. “It is too much, Darius. It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t—”

“—I think you deserve it, and I’ll help you get comfortable. Say to me, ‘I deserve everything Darius gives me.’ Say that, Marianne.” His voice firm, harder than she had ever heard, commanded her. And she was helpless against his masterful directives.

“I…I deserve…everything Darius gives me.”

“Yes, you do deserve
everything
, and now I’ll make
sure
you’re convinced.” He took a blanket from the travel pack and spread it out on the ground. “I know what you need.” He held out his hand to her. “Lie down with me, Marianne.”

She carefully removed her hat before obeying. Marianne held on to his gaze as she lowered herself onto the blanket. Joining her, he stared down, his eyes raking over her, almost reverently, she thought. Darius certainly knew how to impel her, for it was easy to do his bidding.

She saw her eyes mirrored in his dark ones, the color easily visible as he descended. He began at her mouth. Working ravenously, he used his teeth to scrape over her lips and tongue, gently grazing and sucking them into his mouth. He nipped along her jaw and under her chin. His hard body pressed into her side, then turned her to face him, seeking alignment from head to foot.

They fit against each other well, she thought.

After some time, he pulled back and stared again, focusing in on her face. No, it was above her face. He leaned down again and kissed her hair and inhaled. Whatever he asked of her, she knew she would do.

“Take your hair down for me.”

She struggled to sit up, and he was quick to assist. Then he watched greedily as she removed the pins that held her hair. Darius sighed just before she plucked the last pivotal pin, her dark curls tumbling down in a curtain around her face. He looked happy watching.

Reaching out his hand, he lifted a curl and brought it to his nose. His face, so close she could feel the intake of breath drawing from her and into him. Warm lips came down on her almost desperately, seeking deep entry. His velvet tongue plumbed her as he pressed her back down on the blanket.

Fisting handfuls of her hair, he breathed in the scent, his weight settling back against her side. “I’ve imagined you like this with your glorious hair flowing free, lying in our bed, waiting for me.” His mouth moved to her neck, grazing in the hollows with gentle lips and teeth. “Open the top of your dress. I want to see you, Marianne.”

She did not hesitate. Her fingers moved quickly to tackle the neck cloth and unbutton her jacket. Darius eagerly did the rest. Pushing open her bodice, he was presented with the view of her breasts swelling above an alluring French silk corset. One that he had chosen for her. He also saw the pearls he’d given her. He froze. A ragged breath and then another controlled one.

“You wore them.” Kissing over the tops of her breasts, he purred, exploring every uncovered inch with wandering, but determined, lips. He even kissed the pearl crucifix framed between. “
Bellissima
, so beautiful.”

Darius’s next move was bold, commandeering in its way. Cradling one hand behind her head, the other reached under her skirt and swept up her leg. She stiffened and shook her head. He just smiled and kept going, up to the top of her thigh. His hand moved inside, toward her heat. “Open up for me, Marianne. You want me to do this. You want me to.”

Sobbing out a moan, she obeyed, moving her legs apart. She quickly succumbed to tremors as his hand burned on her thigh.

“Your skin is so smooth, like the silk that covers you,” he murmured.

Holding the back of her head, he forced her to look up at him. His long, elegant fingers journeyed on, burrowing in between more silk undergarments to the apex between her legs.

Oh God! He’s going to touch me…there.

Her legs grew rigid, and she tried to close them, but Darius wouldn’t allow it. His touch was firm as his determined fingers found her center and buried into the short curls that covered her cunny.

She sucked in a gasp at the feel of his hand plying her.

His fingers pressed a little harder, the pressure allowing her folds to part. That burning hot gate of entry he sought. It burned as hot as his eyes did, seeking complete surrender from her. One finger forged ahead of the others, pressing deeper still, and delved inside.

Marianne jerked hard when he invaded and groaned low in her throat. He was inside her body with his finger!

“Shhh,” he whispered, holding her firmly. “It’s all right,” he crooned at her lips, stroking into her slick cunny with his finger while hovering barely an inch from her face.

Marianne could not hold back the cry that escaped. Darius was so close and overriding she could do nothing but give in to him. But that was what they were both after, wasn’t it? They each had their role to play. He would dominate. She would submit. In that way, both would be getting what they wanted, and needed.

Marianne’s body responded in the only way it could.

When Darius felt her wetness, he arched his brows. “You’re wet for me…and so soft.” His lips brushed hers. “I knew you would be.”

His words, so intimate, burned a path straight through her, laying her open, exposing her completely to his mercy. Arching sharply, her body arced and then froze as she accepted his invasion.

“That’s it. Feel my touch in you. You’re so soft here…and slick. I love that you’re wet and slippery.” His eyes flared before growing hooded.

Dear lord!
The things he said made her blush to the roots of her hair. But that did not curb her response to what he was doing to her. With a will all their own, her thighs clenched around his hand and her hips started to move.

Marianne couldn’t keep still—the pleasure was indescribable, setting her afire. Movement was as necessary as breathing.

Darius played her like an instrument, stroking over a swollen nub that shot bursts of sensation each time he drew over it. Slowly, he brought her to life, knowing where to touch and how hard to press. The hot pulses grew higher, more intense, building low in her belly. Nearly out of her mind, her neck straining, eyes closing, she thought she’d surely die if he stopped all that glorious rubbing.
Something was happening to her. Maybe she
was
dying. She didn’t care though—as long as he kept up stroking her in that most perfect, magnificent way.

“Look at me, Marianne. Don’t close your eyes! Look at me!”

When he commanded her, something unraveled, breaking inside her. Her eyes began to flutter as the first convulsions struck. It was a struggle to keep them open, to obey his command. She tried to. Shudders of explosive current took hold, rushing throughout her body.

Darius stopped the rubbing and pressed the heel of his palm down hard. She felt her eyes welling, and then a single tear tumbled down each cheek as she stared up into his eyes.

The pleasure so powerful, she finally understood the craving Darius ignited in her body when he touched her. This was the culmination of the unearthly feelings he brought about. And it was…magnificent.

“Oh, Darius, you make me feel—” Shuddering into his neck, she panted and rode the wave, unable to finish her words.

“That was a glorious thing to watch, my beauty, you taking your pleasure. You
do
deserve everything. You deserve what I just gave you, Marianne, and there’s so much more. I will show you everything.” He pressed his lips to the streaks of tears on her cheeks, kissing the wetness away. He nodded slowly. “The next time you feel this same pleasure, it won’t just be my fingers here against you.” Pressing the heel of his hand against her curls and his fingers atop her clit, he elicited an easy shiver and a moan. “It will be this.” He took his hand away and mounted her, thrusting forcefully, his intent as unmistakable as the weight of him upon her.