Rebel Heart (41 page)

"What are we doing!" she cried out at him, and wasted no time in covering herself with the blankets. "What is all this going to prove?"

He met her gaze. "That is yet to be seen, but I know," he said, "that you are very aware of your attributes, and your intelligence. You are disturbingly spoiled, impetuous, undisciplined and determined. But even I concede you this; you are a very intriguing woman. And you are mine." His tone of voice when he issued the last words sent heat spiraling within and renewed her apprehension but also her desire. He was so very hard to discern.

"Dr. Savage," Luke's voice was steady and firm.

"Yes?"

"I can't hold them off much longer."

She burrowed into the covers, pulling them over her head and praying no one would see her. Her breath came in ragged gasps. "What is he talking about?"

"This room is about to be compromised.”

She closed her eyes. Each piece of clothing he discarded made a different noise. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, she waited for him. She felt the swift rise of color to her cheeks.

Oh, there had been the soft light of the moon, but nothing else. She hadn't really seen him. He had been cast in shadows that night. Now he was about to slip naked into bed with her. His erection was hard and pulsing. Then the lights were on--and the cameras.

He tugged on the covers and she resolved to win this battle. But she didn't. When she felt the loss of warmth, she opened her eyes. Naked bronze shoulders glistened in the bold, well-lighted room. She could see the ripple of every muscle. He was hard as steel; all of him, tight, smooth, perfect.

There would be no dissuasion this time. Ready and determined he studied her once more. Her eyes riveted on his cock and she trembled once more.

She tried to cover herself but he slipped in beside her. "Not now. I'm not willing. It would be...please."

"This is not the way I had planned," he told her. But his tone was not gentle and his words held a great deal of bitterness and resolve. "Morray, Sheridan, there is no choice."

She caught her lip between her teeth. "There is always a choice," she declared adamantly, but her words did waver and her fierce beginning changed to a soft sigh as he touched her, bringing her close against him. "You can't do this with everyone watching." She burrowed deeper into the covers, into the broad expanse of his chest.

"To keep you safe as well as the lab, we have to show everyone we have consummated this marriage." He would have none of it, pulling back the covers to her waist. She closed her eyes, trembling against him, wondering what on earth he intended. This was not what she'd expected from her wedding night, and after the exhausting long night, she'd truly hoped to curl up and sleep the remaining hours until dawn

She felt his hands travel the length of her back, and heat curled deep inside. She was wet and throbbing, ready for him. Then he laughed softly. She felt his chest rumble with the humor that seemed to elude her so easily.

His fingers caressed her cheek then glided down her throat and across her collarbone. Heat exploded deep inside.

"You are not innocent," he whispered so very close to her ear she felt the hot caress of his breath against her. "I am only asking for something The Phantom has claimed."

Her trembling changed to fury. How could he dare mock her so when he knew, when he'd been there? He was just as much a part of it as she was.

No man liked to be deceived and she had intended to betray him, but the revelation had come so late she'd not been able to think or to tell him that she knew the truth. He had held her. The comfort he gave was incredible.

She moistened her lips, wishing he were not so determined, and wishing even more zealously that he did not seem to think he was the lord and master here.

Warm amber eyes studied hers. A smile curled his lips so slightly and devilishly once again. He ran a finger across her lower lip. "I do not care that The Phantom has gone before me," he told her quietly. "Just as long as I am the only man who touches you now."

"That's such a noble sentiment coming from a..."

"Barbarian," he interjected for her.

"I wasn't going to say that," she whispered in reply. He was very silent, which intimidated her, and she looked away. "A gentleman would leave me alone tonight. A gentleman would see that I'd had a long and trying day and needed my rest."

He was smiling again, touching her nose, her cheek. "What of your promise, Victoria? This is our wedding night. I would have you beneath me--willing."

"Yet you turn the monitor on so that all can see and hear what goes on here," and when she would have pummeled his chest with her fists, he caught them.

"The monitor will not go on until we are finished here then we must give all appearances of a happy union," he said softly.

"This is only for appearances?"

"No, babe, it isn't."

He let go of her hands and she flung herself away, giving her back to him. Then she yanked the blanket back to cover her. She didn't have time to think, didn't have time to understand what sweet emotions were sweeping through her. Less than a heartbeat later, she felt his touch and his caress.

It was so gentle, done with the most tender concern and care. Evocative and magical, it summoned the passion and tempest within her. Enchantment was suddenly in the air.

She was captivated.

She closed her eyes. He held a mysterious power over her, she realized. His fingertips, slightly callused, were brushing over her nipples, instantly making them hard. They traveled along her side, following the line of her hip. Lower still, exploring the length of her as far as he could reach then returning to explore her even more intimately.

"Perhaps tonight," he mused aloud. "I have something to prove. To you--to me."

Tori swallowed hard, astonished by the sensation his fingers evoked, so incredibly sensual. Where they touched her flesh, they left a raging heat.

She turned again to avoid the stroke of his hands against her, forgetting then that she presented him with her front.

Her gaze focused on the length of him, his erection hard and pulsing, ready to enter her and create the magic within her.

He was on his side, stretched out next to her, raised upon an elbow. The curl of his smile mocked her reticence, yet it was strangely tender, almost as if he understood her fear. To her astonishment, she reached out to touch his face then swiftly pulled back.

She gasped and quickly lowered her lashes, embarrassed and trembling beneath his scrutiny. As if she was staring at him, she felt his gaze upon her and she looked up. She was right. Even though his gaze was hard and unyielding, there was a tender concern, a tenderness she was growing used to. They seemed to sizzle and spark. With his eyes alone, he promised that she would fulfill her pledge to him.

"I will not do anything with that camera on," she told him.

He grinned. His hand lowered to the valley between her breasts. With his finger he encircled one ivory globe, touching the underside then the nipple. She swallowed hard, yet discovered herself too enthralled to deny his touch.

At his will, his fingers continued a slow descent. His gaze traced the path his fingers took then resting on her belly, teasing then just barely brushing the soft triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. Then his fingers slid into her slit and flicked back and forth across her clit.

"I cannot!" she gasped out suddenly, trying to stop his fingers. "This is not right. Tell me why."

He caught her hand and turning it over pressed a kiss to its palm. She cried out softly, a plea against this.

"You are my wife."

Then she would have battled against him once more, had she sufficient time, because he had suddenly cast her beneath him. He held her hand in his once more, sweeping it to his mouth. "Fear not. You're safe, your virtue as well as your very innocence that you guard so protectively tonight. I am the only one who will see you," he assured her, and his lips closed over one finger then another. His tongue was wet and hot. Slowly, beguilingly, he ravished each finger, sucking each one deep inside his mouth.

Mesmerized, she froze. For the duration she could not move, wide-eyed, astonished at the magic his mouth, his lips, and his tongue worked upon her, the heat that spiraled deep in her womb. He captured her soul, imprisoned it within his command, enslaving her to his will.

Then it seemed she knew every inch of his body, the hard-muscled thighs that nestled between her legs, the tempest that swirled within him and the soft caress of his dark hair against her flesh.

The great rod proclaiming his masculinity lay so hotly against the apex of her thighs.

"If you would allow me my freedom, if you would let me travel with you to the cities..." she whispered, realizing she wanted something in return.

"Then you'd enchant my heart and soul. You'd give me everything I ever dreamed of?" he taunted, leaning toward her. "I think I have that now," he whispered, his lips just over hers.

Then his lips brushed her mouth, spearing his tongue deep inside her mouth then pulling back to nibble on her lower lip.

Her fingers pressed upon his rock-hard chest; she had decided to resolve this before they went any farther. But his fingers were entwined in her hair, and she could not escape from his delving tongue.

And neither did the force of her hands sway him from his intent. A whimper of surrender sounded softly in her throat, even while she fought the sweet, beguiling sensations sweeping within her. She could not think. She could only feel the insistent sweep of his tongue within her mouth. He was so very talented with his fingers and his lips. She could hardly breathe. The world spun faster and faster.

She didn't know when she forgot her own intent, nor did she know when the battle had been lost. But from the very start, it had been no contest. His hands were ravishing, exploring, coaxing. Stroking the rise of her breast, his fingers curling around the fullness there then seeking the pebbled hardness of its nipple, making the tempest winds fly. His fingers played upon her with finesse and talent, curving over her hip, finding the fullness of her derriere, pulling her closer so that she'd never escape the fantasy he was creating.

His shaft, potent and hard, still lay hotly against her. It seemed to pulse with a life all its own. She had not the power to deny him.

His finger delved deeper, more intimately, finally stroking the soft velvet of her core.

The battle was indeed lost, because the winds whispered of their destiny, of their lives together.

Oh, yes...

She writhed beneath the onslaught of his fingers, the raging battle of wills. She could never escape him, and she could never best him. His lips brushed hers again and again. They touched on her eyes, on her earlobes, on her neck. His soft whispers teased her senses. She understood none of what he said, yet she knew the meaning, knew that she was his. Dismay filled her. She had lost so very much, first to The Phantom, now to the savage.

Yes--they were one and the same.

Before she was lost, she wanted his promise. This was all too one-sided. She gave and gave and he...

He evoked fire and tempest. He brought her to heaven.

She wanted to wrest a promise from him. She wanted to fight until he gave up his soul for her. She did not want to admit to the power he held over her, for surely she could never deny him. She was lost, wandering in a vast and wondrous heaven of his making. He was an exceptional lover. He played with her, toyed with her simmering emotions. He had not said yes to her, but neither had he said no.

Suddenly her thoughts fled. A gasp escaped her as she felt him part her legs. His eyes met hers with a challenge. He smiled. "I will take what you ask under consideration."

She thought to speak, but gasped instead. He was on his knees in front of her, his hands beneath her, lifting. She could not imagine the tremendous power of him or the explosion of feelings that ripped through her when he suddenly cherished her-- thoroughly--so very intimately.

A moan rose from her throat, her fingers gripped his shoulders, desperately clinging to him as he brought her higher and higher.

Dear God! He was determined to have her complete surrender.

Carefully separating her with his fingers, stroking her open sex with his tongue and lips, her secrets were no longer her own. She wanted to battle this new intimacy, wanted to fight his arrogance in claiming her so, but she had melted to his touch. Her mind turned soft.

She responded wildly.

A sweet craving grew within her. She was his, and she gave herself up to him and the night. She wanted his cock inside her now, because she had known the sweet completion of his seduction once before, had known how swiftly desire grew.

Then he held himself over her again, giving her no quarter, asking everything and expecting everything from her. His eyes glittered with a burning intensity.