Rexanne Becnel (21 page)

A quiver of desire shook Lacie as he removed his last garment, and she closed her eyes once more to hide the emotions she knew he could see. She wanted him. She was no longer able to deny it.

Then she felt him over her and her eyes flew open.

“This must come off,” he whispered as he began to untie the laces of her chemise. Like a new form of torture he opened her chemise bit by bit, his fingertips grazing her oversensitive skin in a deliciously random caress, until he had bared her breasts to his view.

Lacie could scarcely breathe, she was so overcome with tumultuous feelings. Her longing for him was raised to a fever pitch, yet she could not help but squirm in extreme humiliation that he could see her so.

But he was only beginning. His own breath was coming faster as his hand moved to rest on her smooth stomach. “Now these,” he murmured as he unfastened the tapes that held her pantalets on. Instinctively Lacie tried to tighten her thighs together. But Dillon’s knee prevented her, and to her complete mortification he pulled her pantalets apart and slid each side off her legs.

Then there was no hiding from him. Fear fought with desire for dominance. Like a leaf tossed in violent winds, Lacie’s emotions twisted and turned as Dillon’s eyes swept her pale, trembling body. Yet it was hardly the body she was familiar with, for never had such feelings been evoked in her. Her nipples stood out, dark rose and rigid, aching for his touch. In her belly a fire burned, curling and knotting inside her until she was sure she must burst.

When he placed his hand firmly over her lower belly, she softly cried out with ecstasy.

“Ah, my beautiful, beautiful girl,” he murmured in a low triumphant voice.

Then he lay down upon her and caught her mouth in a kiss of desperate fervor. In wild abandon Lacie rose up to meet him. Breast to breast, belly to belly. Their lips clung together in mindless passion. She opened completely to his devouring kiss, holding nothing back from him. When his lips moved down to her breasts her head tossed back and forth on the méridienne’s curved headrest. In wicked nibbling kisses and exquisite, swirling tugs he teased her nipples to aching erectness, bringing her arching off the plush velvet upholstery. She was gasping for breath and crying, lost entirely to the world he created for them.

Then she felt his hand move down past her belly to the burning center of her desire. When he slid his finger between her thighs, she tensed in sudden fear. Yet with his first touch upon her most private woman’s place, she lost the will to resist. In slow sweet strokes he raised her higher and higher. When she cried out in mindless ecstasy he kissed her lips. Only when she was weak and helpless and slick with sweat did he nudge her legs apart a little wider.

Then he was over her, his eyes direct upon hers, glowing with emerald fire despite the shadows in the room.

“It’s now, Lacie. It’s right.”

She felt the thick heated length of him pressed boldly against her body. Then he slowly raised his hips. For a moment she felt him, huge and erect, probing the entrance to her feminine being. Then with a slow steady pressure, he came into her.

Her eyes widened in surprise, as did his own. Then with a muffled oath he pressed farther until he was completely buried within her.

Lacie’s quick cry of pain was smothered by his kiss. The tears that sprang to her eyes were wiped away by his thumbs. She tried to swallow a sob and pushed at his shoulders, but he would not budge. He only remained large and intrusive within her, a shocking interruption to the glorious arousal she had been feeling.

“I’ve been a fool.”

Lacie heard Dillon’s low muttered words, but they did not register for she was much too distraught. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her head turned sharply to the side as she vainly sought to hide from him. The pain of his entry was as nothing compared to the pain of this complete humiliation. She had been lulled into complacency—indeed, swept away by his seductive manner. She’d known all along she would regret trusting him in any way, but she’d never expected this.

Lacie fought to hide the tears gathering and stinging behind her eyelids. But as he always did, Dillon seemed to know her very thoughts.

“Don’t pull back from me now, Lacie. I didn’t know…ah, damn. I should have suspected you were a virgin.” Then she felt his lips against her neck, moving slowly in heated kisses.

“Leave me alone!” she cried brokenly.

“Never.”

“Haven’t you done enough?”

“I haven’t even begun, sweetheart.”

At that decisive pronouncement her eyes flew open in alarm. But before she could formulate a reply, his mouth caught hers in a surprising kiss. Her stomach tightened again at the warm pervasive feel of his lips moving upon hers. It was a wicked pleasure, yet it had a new bittersweet quality, and Lacie could not resist it. As he once again raised her to forbidden heights of enjoyment, the pain and humiliation of his entry began to recede.

His tongue stole into her mouth, then pulled away, then entered again, only bolder and more beguiling. Then once more, and again. In a teasing, seductive rhythm he drew her higher and higher until she was soaring with excitement.

It was only then that he began to move within her. At first she was hardly aware of it, so caught up was she in his devouring kiss. But then she felt him, rubbing hard and hot inside her, sending new tremors through her that met and overpowered all the others.

Lacie could hardly contain herself. Surely he was a devil to bewitch her so. Her entire body—her entire being—was aching only for him. Like a fire she raced out of control, arching now with him, wrapping her arms desperately about him, and even her legs.

Wild and reckless, she succumbed to him, taking everything he gave in complete ecstasy. Harder and faster he moved, thrusting deep within her until it seemed they were no longer separate but were joined in body and will.

Then it began, and she cried out in helpless surrender. Like a live thing, no longer a part of her at all, the very center of her being tensed, then exploded violently. Wave after wave, one hot pulsing rush after another swept through her until she was faint and weak, slick with sweat and gasping for breath.

At once Dillon’s pace increased to a furious tempo, raising them both off the now-damp velvet méridienne. On and on he pressed, until he suddenly tensed and with a huge burst of energy found his own release.

Lacie clung to him still, her hands sliding upon his damp shoulders as he slowed his pace. He too was gasping for breath. His entire body trembled from his massive effort. Then he slowly rolled a little to the side, drawing her with him. Her hair was caught beneath his head as he turned to look at her and his legs remained entwined with hers.

Lacie was too stunned by what had just happened between them to raise her customary reserve. Her eyes were hazy with lingering desire as she stared at him in amazement.

For his part, Dillon seemed well content. His eyes were warm as she’d never seen them. His face was relaxed and a contented smile faintly curved his lips.

“Lacie, Lacie,” he murmured softly as he reached to smooth one dark strand of hair from her rose-flushed cheek. His touch was so tender, his smile so natural and unguarded, that Lacie closed her eyes against it. It was all too right, too perfect. Something—even if only her ever-present doubts—something was certain to spoil this moment. After all, she was nothing more to him than an obstacle he must surmount, a challenge to be overcome.

And now he had overcome.

With her eyes tightly closed and her face turned away from him, she sought futilely to shut out what must surely come. Even as her body hummed with the sweet lingering aftereffects of their lovemaking, her mind braced itself against the coming rejection.

Yet when his lips moved lightly upon her brow and he stretched languorously against her, fitting her comfortingly to him, she was caught off guard. His warmth was her warmth. Their sweat was mingled as she slid slightly against him and his musky male scent seemed to surround her.

Did
her
scent surround
him?
she wondered for a weak and wishful moment.

Then his arm slid beneath her. As if she weighed less than nothing, he pulled her onto his lap and swung himself into a sitting position.

“What—what are you doing?” she asked in a voice too soft and shaky to be her own.

“As much as I have enjoyed the méridienne,” he answered, “I believe we’ll both find the bed more comfortable.” Then he grinned at her round-eyed expression.

She had no time to object before he dragged back the maroon paisley bedcover and placed her squarely in the center of the wide half-tester mahogany bed. He paused then and let his eyes slide slowly over her pale and naked body. A wave of painful self-consciousness washed over her, and Lacie hastily reached for the protection of the bedcover. But Dillon quickly stopped her with one knee upon the rumpled cover.

“Don’t hide yourself.” His hands caught hers and brought them down to her side. “You’ve been hiding yourself from me all along. But now you can see how much better things are when we’re honest.”

Their eyes held for a long trembling moment, and although the silence seemed almost tangible, filling in the spaces around them, there was nonetheless a clear and vivid communication between them. It was unspoken, and yet it increased her heart’s pace and made her breath come quicker. When she could bear the exquisite suspense no longer, Lacie broke the quiet in the room.

“Will we…are we to be—to be ‘honest’ with each other once more?”

A distinct grin lit Dillon’s darkly handsome face then, and he moved onto the bed, letting his magnificent naked body slide over her.

“Oh, yes. We most certainly will.”

L
ACIE WAS WARM. EVEN
in her sleep-drugged state she was aware that her skin was already damp in the early morning humidity. Reluctant to awaken, she stretched beneath the linen sheets, feeling positively catlike as she arched in drowsy contentment. But in spite of her groggy state, she was intensely aware of every place the sheets slid against her skin. Like a smooth fluid caress the soft fabric both soothed and aroused her bare, sensitive flesh.

At once her eyes flew open.

She was naked beneath the sheets. Neither nightgown nor chemise and drawers covered her!

Then she remembered, and with a low moan of dismay every minute detail of what she’d done came rushing back.

Dillon…and her.

She rolled over and buried her head beneath the sheet as she recalled every intimacy they’d shared. He’d held her. He’d kissed her in ways she could hardly believe real now. And he’d come to her in all his masculine glory. As a man comes to his woman. As a husband comes to his wife.

Oh, what could she have been thinking? How could she have given in to him?

But how could she have resisted? she wondered. How could she have stilled the wondrous panic that only he raised in her? Even now the thought of lying so with him caused her nipples to tighten in anticipation, and an unbidden wave of heat to rise from her belly.

If only it had meant as much to him as it had meant to her! she thought wistfully. If only it had meant more than a casual conquest. Or another business triumph. She sighed and pushed a tangled strand of hair back from her cheek. Then she heard a noise from the adjoining room, and she froze.

The door opened with a faint creak, followed by the light sound of bare feet on the wooden floor. Like a mouse numbed by the cat’s approach, Lacie lay still as stone before Dillon’s steady approach. But when the mattress sagged beneath his weight, she cringed and pulled the sheet tight beneath her chin.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was shaky as she shrank back to the far side of the bed.

“So you’re up.” Dillon sat on the side of the bed and stared at her with a well-pleased smile on his face. He was not dressed, naked save for the meager protection of a towel he’d wrapped about his hips. Yet he was clearly not the least bit discomfited by appearing thus. She, by contrast, was humiliated beyond description. Her cheeks were scarlet and she was suddenly breathless. In vain she tried to look away from him, not wanting to see the wide expanse of his chest or note the smooth tan that colored his skin. Seeing him so made her recall just how he’d felt pressed naked against her. Watching a smile curve his mouth brought back memories of his lips on hers. And the look in his sea-green eyes…

It was that look that finally forced her gaze away, for it was possessive and knowing, and it confirmed everything that she wanted to blot out.

“Lacie.”

At that softly spoken word a shiver of unwelcome longing snaked up her spine, but she sternly—desperately—willed it away. She had been weak and foolish last night, giving him that part of her she should have reserved for a husband. But this morning she would gain control of herself. When she spoke her voice was low and under tight control.

“I think you’d better leave.”

“I think I’d rather stay.”

Her eyes grew larger as she stared at him. “Why?”

“Why?” His smile turned cheeky then. “Why? Because I like you naked better than dressed. Because I plan to continue where we left off.”

Lacie’s face paled in horror. It was bad enough what had happened last night. But it was morning now and—and—

“You—you can’t mean that!”

“Like hell I can’t.”

At that calm, unaffected response all of Lacie’s hard-won aplomb disappeared.

“Get out. Get out! I knew you weren’t a gentleman! You’re nothing but a cold-hearted—a cold-hearted…”

“Bastard?” Dillon supplied the word with only a slightly raised brow. “I see you’re back to playing the affronted schoolmarm. But Lacie”—he leaned across the bed and tugged on the sheet she gripped so tightly—“don’t you think it’s a little late? You know I much prefer you honest.”

“A lot you know of honesty! Haven’t you just gleefully robbed me of my honesty?” Then she burst into heartrending tears.

After only a brief hesitation Dillon pulled her into his arms. He was strong and warm as he held her, absorbing the sobs that shook her body. His comfort was the last thing she wanted—he was the very cause of all her woes—yet it was hard to fight the lulling warmth he offered her. In a moment of weakness she yielded to the luxury of being held by him. Despite everything she knew of him, she was reassured by the sweet comfort she found in his embrace.