Loving Sarah (12 page)

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Authors: Sandy Raven

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Loving Sarah
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“Oh, yes,” she whispered on a breath. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Spreading her thighs wide, he feasted until she cried out as another release quickly came over her. He raised up to stand at the edge of the bed, then hooking his arms under her knees, he pulled her until her buttocks met his thighs at the edge of the mattress. As he guided his cock to her very slick, very wet entrance, her gaze widened.

Ian chuckled. “You’re not worried are you? Though it may have been a few months, I haven’t forgotten how. You’ll be truly satisfied before the night’s over.”

“I’m not worried,” she said. “You’re just…a bit larger than I’ve seen before.”

He rubbed himself up and down over her slit and chuckled. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten that response from a woman. Strange, but he somehow felt proud she approved of him. She was incredibly beautiful and uncommonly original, stimulating him in more ways than just sex. At another time in his life, she might have been someone he would have considered as a possible wife. “I assure you I’ll fit and you will be pleased.”

“It’s just…I’ve never….”

His heart stopped, afraid she was about to say the words that would prevent him from consummating the act. He looked down at her with a narrowed, suspicious gaze. “You’ve never what, my lady?”

Sarah thought a moment before replying, not wanting to reveal the truth of her inexperience, because he would surely stop. And she didn’t want that. Not now that she’s had a sample of his loving. A slight smile curved her lips, and she said, “I’ve never seen one so big.”

His face relaxed and he grinned. Sarah watched as he held his own shaft and slid it up and down over her slick flesh. The image was more erotic than reading that handy little tome she’d found. Just knowing that at any moment he would put that inside of her was both exciting and a little frightening. The book mentioned pain upon first entry, but she’d felt none when his fingers were inside her. She watched the glistening tip of his shaft as he rubbed it over her nub, the sensation causing her to moan with anticipation.

His voice sounded hoarse and uncertain. “And you’ve seen many, then?”

“A few.” The lie rolled off her tongue so easily it frightened her. She couldn’t tell him the male members she’d seen were all in books—either his own book on seducing women or educational compendiums of art—and that the drawings didn’t do his exemplary specimen justice. She shivered—no,
trembled
was more like it—with a mixture of anticipation and desire. A part of her feared she hadn’t studied sufficiently the things the book said a man found pleasing, though she knew she had several weeks yet in his company to read and practice everything the book suggested.

The height of the raised bed, because of the storage drawers beneath, put her at the perfect height for him to enter her while standing. This position was depicted in the book, and she remembered the caption beneath relating that this was effective for deep penetration and extremely pleasurable for both the man and the woman. It also said from the standing position, the man could see the woman’s face, and pleasure her breasts and sensitive nub if he chose, all while inside of her.

“I need release soon, else I will burst,” he whispered.

He stroked his tip up and down over her nub once more before placing it at her entrance. When he pushed forward slightly, it stretched her painfully, and he groaned with pleasure. A tremor coursed through her, and she bit her tongue. He would never believe her if she told him now she’d never lain with a man. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking she could handle everything all at once, but she was committed now. She wanted to experience the rest of this exquisite act because these may be the only times she’d ever experience anything so erotic and titillating for the rest of her life—especially if she was forced to endure this glorious act under any man she was not attracted to.

“Oh, yes,” Sarah moaned, wanting him to continue with whatever it was he was doing, giving him everything he wanted because she realized she wanted and needed it as well. The twinge of pain was quickly gone, and she began to understand what the authors of that book meant. Relaxation certainly helped with the initial invasion. Ian’s member filled her completely, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to move as she’d read he must do to achieve his satisfaction.

“Sarah,” he uttered in a hoarse whisper that sounded more like a prayer than an exclamation of her name. He withdrew from her, and she felt vacant and desirous of so much more. She opened her eyes to meet his greenish-brown gaze, and he said, “After I climax once, I promise I will love you more slowly later. I just need this right now, so desperately.” With that, he plunged his hips forward, impaling her.

Sarah stifled a scream, biting her lower lip as burning pain ripped through her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she squeezed them shut so he wouldn’t see them. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she bit her fingers, as his curses filled the room. Damn. She didn’t think the pain could get any worse until he rammed into her with all of his might. Nowhere in that book did it say he had to do it like
that.
She controlled her breathing as the book had suggested by taking slow, deep breaths. And as she did, she felt a new sensation, not pain, but pure pleasure. He was now deeper than he’d been with his fingers, deeper than he’d ventured just moments ago. He was so deep inside her that she felt him touch her womb.

He held still, deeply embedded within. “What game do you play?” The tone of his voice told her his anger was barely contained. She’d managed to infuriate him thoroughly this time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be so angry he’d pull out, because her body was already adjusting to his size and she found it increasingly pleasurable.

“None, I swear it,” she replied, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. His hands held her tight at the waist, keeping her still. Her legs rested over the crook of his elbows, and she was effectively trapped. Unable to pull away, she felt every slow grinding deep pulse of his member inside her.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” His head was thrown back as he nearly yelled his words. “I gave you several chances to tell me, and you didn’t. Why?”

“Because I wanted this,” she said softly, honestly. “Wanted it with you.”

“Well, you got it. The deed is done now.” He took a deep breath, began to pull out then stopped himself, pressing deep again. “Damn it to hell!”

“Please don’t stop,” she begged. “I know there’s more and I want it.” She wanted that orgasmic pleasure mentioned in the book—the sensation of floating among the stars and soaring over mountains and valleys that the gentlemen authors said
both
parties experience at the climax of the act. But Sarah couldn’t tell him she’d found his book, then he’d know she’d been snooping.


How
do you know?”

She met his icy gaze, with a pleading one, “I just do. I’ve heard and read about it. Please, please don’t stop. The discomfort has already eased.” She traced her hands down his forearms, then rested them on his hands. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Please Ian. I want it all.”

“I don’t think I could stop now if I wanted to,” he confessed as he pushed into her again.

When she winced, he said, “Let’s change position.”

He then withdrew and climbed onto the bed and moved Sarah to the center. She was so thankful he was going to complete the act. She wanted to feel what the authors called a man’s orgasm. A smile came over her as she thought about the memories of this affair and how they would satisfy and console her during her spinsterhood. This man would forever be her adventure in sexual initiation.

Lying next to her, he returned his hand to her mons. His fingers parted her again and began to slide over her sensitive bud, dipping inside to draw forth more of her lubricating wetness. Something tightened deep within, and she knew it was the stirring of another climax as it built. He positioned himself over her and lifted her legs, “Wrap them around me when I enter you.” This time when he entered, she experienced only a minor twinge at her entrance. But as he moved, the discomfort disappeared, replaced by a ravenous need to reach something inexplicable. She met his rapid thrusts because it seemed the only way to achieve what her body craved.

In a matter of minutes, she shattered into a profusion of tiny pieces, held together only by his strong arms wrapped around her. She had only a moment to savor her climax as she sucked in a shaky breath. And just as her body began to relax, he continued his driving into her, and he raced to his own release. When he reached it, he drove into her a last time, and she felt him tense as he filled her with his seed.

His breathing was deep and ragged, matching her own as their sweat-covered bodies began to cool in the night air. Sarah wasn’t sure how much time had passed because she lay quiet and sated in Ian’s arms. She stirred when a knock came at the door. Ian rose, threw the blanket over her and put his trousers on to answer it. She heard him throw the bolt and place the tray on the table. Opening her eyes, she rose onto her elbow and pushed her hair from her face.

“Dinner has arrived.” Ignoring the tray, he turned the chair around and sat on it, with his chin resting on his folded hands on the chair back, his gaze shot daggers at her. It unsettled her to be under such scrutiny, and she knew she now had questions to answer.

“May I have my shirt?” She held the blanket with one hand and caught the shirt when he tossed it her way. When she stood, she winced at the tenderness between her legs. Then she looked down to see the stain of her irreclaimable maidenhead and their lovemaking on the sheet.

He must have seen it as well. “We need to talk.” His voice was clipped and taut.

She climbed back onto the bed and sat under the covers. “The food will grow cold,” she offered.

“I don’t give a damn about the food!” The depth of anger in his voice sent a tremor of fear through her. “Do you know what you just did? You basically signed our marriage license with that act! I am not ready for a wife and family, and you…. Why? For the love of God, why?”

She didn’t know what it was that stopped his tirade—likely the fear in her expression—but she stopped him when she spoke. “I am not expecting anything from you.” He stared at her as though she’d sprouted two heads.

“It doesn’t matter what you expect!” He slapped his thighs in frustration. “What just happened seals our fate, unless by some miracle you can magically get us out of a forced marriage. I have nothing to offer a bride yet. Getting married is not in my plan for several years yet!”

“And I never said I wanted to get married, did I? Besides, if ever I do marry, I would settle for nothing less than a man whom I love and who loves me in return.”

“Love has nothing to do with what just happened. That was lust. Pure and simple.”

It was lust, as he’d said, but it hurt to hear him say that he didn’t want to marry her. Even though she felt an attraction toward him, he didn’t even think enough of her to offer. Obviously he didn’t care about her in that manner, and it
hurt
. She didn’t think she was
that
plain, and she certainly had the connections and dowry necessary to attract a man. So why not the man she was attracted to?

She wanted to cry, but not in front of him. She never thought he would react in this way. This entire fiasco tonight was her plan, her idea, she wanted it, and she had to live with his reaction and the consequences. And it was best that he not know the things he made her feel when he was near—how her heart raced and her body tingled and grew warm and how with just a touch her core tingled, becoming wet and ready for him.

No, Sarah felt it would be far worse to live in a loveless marriage where resentment would build to anger than to live the life of an eccentric, adventurous aunt, who chaperoned her nieces on a tour of the continent or America.

“I’ll never marry,” she reiterated, “anyone, Captain.” Sarah avoided his eyes. It wouldn’t do to have him see that his words hurt. She wanted to feel wanted. He obviously didn’t feel anything toward her but lust. Where her thoughts ran a little deeper than that, she wasn’t sure she was in love with him. What she felt was just infatuation and lust—almost a primal sexual urge in need of satisfying. She took a lock of hair between her fingers and began to twist it.

“You cannot imagine there will be no penalty for what we’ve done. Your brother will force us to wed, and rightfully so. Hell, I would do the same if I had a sister!” For some reason, his ire had lessened somewhat, almost as though he’d resigned himself to a noose, much like the horse to a saddle. He exhaled slowly and shook his tousled sandy blond hair. “Why did you do it? What on earth possessed you?” At her continued silence, he added, “Dear God, did you trap me?”

“Never!” She felt her eyes well with tears, and she wiped them with the sheet. “I swear it was never my intent to trap you at all, Ian,” she said as she met his gaze to prove to him her honesty in this. “I never intended to land on your ship. I swear it! Leave my family to me. You’ll not face the heinous sentence of marriage to me.”

“You haven’t answered me,” he said. “I want to know why. What reason was there to do what you did?”

Sarah wiped her eyes again. There was no need to tell him about the book and the curiosity it stirred in a woman who was already attracted to him. She was truthful with him earlier when she’d said that she was planning for a life as a spinster. “No reason.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I wanted this experience before going on that proverbial shelf.” She stood, taking the sheet with her to hide her nudity from him, and began to look for her trousers, she didn’t want to meet his accusing stare any longer so she feigned interest in getting dressed. “Again, I apologize, and I swear to you, you shall not be forced to marry me. Because I have a plan too, Captain. I will not marry anyone unless I love the man and he loves me. Since we don’t, we won’t.” She spied her stockings and shoes and made busy to pick them up. Her voice sounded more resolved than she felt inside. “Marry, that is.” She cleared her throat of some imagined irritant. “We will not marry.”

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