“Was it really that ghastly?” she asked softly.
Immediately, Shane dropped his hand to the mattress and rolled to his side to look at her. “Of course not,” he said. “But, Sara…”
“What?”
“You should have told me.”
She studied him in silence for a moment, then, “If it was that important to you,” she said, “then you should have asked me.”
“But I just assumed—”
“Well, you shouldn’t have.”
He opened his mouth to respond to that, then closed it again. After a moment spent searching her face, he finally said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have assumed you were… That you’d never… I mean…”
“What, you can’t even say the word now?” she asked, injecting a playfulness into her voice she didn’t feel. “My, this is a problem.”
“No, I just mean…” He sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t have assumed, that’s all. Because now that I think about it, it all makes sense.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The fact that you’re—that you were,” he corrected himself with obvious reluctance, “a…you know.”
“Virgin?” she supplied helpfully.
“Yeah. That.”
“What, have I had a big white V pinned to my clothing we both overlooked somehow and it’s just now becoming obvious?”
He shook his head. “No. But I still should have realized.”
“How could you possibly have realized?” she asked. For some reason, she was beginning to feel a little irritated. What, was she so very different from other women? Was she too pure? Too chaste? Too innocent? Too naive? None of those words seemed particularly flattering in these modern times. And none of them felt appropriate to Sara at all. Just because she was—had been—a virgin, didn’t mean she wasn’t worldly. One could be sophisticated and knowledgeable without having lost it, so to speak.
Shane smiled at her, and some of her irritation fled at seeing it. It evaporated completely, though, when he told her, “Because you’re not like any woman I’ve ever met before, that’s how.”
She decided to take that as a compliment, even if he didn’t seem altogether happy when he said it. In fact, his smile grew decidedly melancholy as he spoke. In spite of that, she smiled, too. “You’re not like any man I’ve ever met, either,” she told him.
He said nothing in response to that for a moment, only searched her face in silence as if he were looking for the answer to a very important question. Finally he asked, “So now what happens?”
Sara turned on her side to face him. She might as well be honest, she thought. After all, she had nothing to lose. Oh, except perhaps for the most wonderful, amazing, arousing man she had ever met in her life. Somehow she made herself smile as she said, “Actually, I had rather hoped I might experience an orgasm at some point in the evening. From what I’ve heard, they do sound like frightfully good fun.”
Shane stared at her in openmouthed silence for a moment, then laughed outright. “You mean you still want to…?”
This time Sara was the one to gape. “Well, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, but…”
“But what?” she asked.
“But aren’t you…?”
“What?”
“Hurting?”
Sara laughed, too, at that. “I won’t lie to you, Shane. It did hurt like the very devil at first.” She thumbed a lock of hair back from his forehead and tried to ignore the wealth of affection she felt bubbling up inside her. “But what would be more painful,” she said, “is if we stopped just when things were beginning to go well.”
He grinned. “Well, since you put it that way…”
Before she had a chance to respond to that, he reached for her again, pulling her atop him as she had been before. “Is that okay?” he asked. “Would you rather try something different?”
“Oh, yes,” she said enthusiastically. “This is very okay. It’s very exciting. And as soon as we’ve done it this way, I want to do it another way, too. And then I want to try something else. And then something else. And then some—”
He halted her by seizing her shoulders and pulling her down for a kiss that was even hungrier, needier and more demanding than before, then pushed her back up again.
“You,” he said, “are a very sexy woman.”
She grinned. “Even if I’ve never…”
He smiled, too, but it was that sad sort of smile he had used before. “Believe it or not, Sara, knowing this is your first time only makes it—only makes you—that much more exciting.”
Well, since he put it like that…
“I’ll be gentler this time,” he said.
“Oh, damn,” she replied, frowning.
He laughed. “Trust me, Sara. It’ll be better that way at first. Maybe later—”
But he halted without finishing whatever he intended to say. Whether that was because he didn’t want to frighten her or didn’t want to think that far ahead, she couldn’t tell. Maybe it was just that he didn’t think there would be a later, that this might be their one and only chance to be together. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she halfway wondered that herself. Which, she supposed, was another reason why tonight she was so much more ready than she had been the night before. This might be their last chance to be together. And she didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to be with a man like Shane. Men like him, after all, only came along once in a lifetime.
“Make love to me, Shane,” she said. “Please.”
He obviously needed no other encouragement, because he settled his hands on her hips once again, more gently this time. But instead of urging her backward as he had before, he pulled her forward this time. Sara didn’t protest, though she was confused by the action. Until he had pulled her up over his chest and scooted himself down some more. Until he gripped her hips and lifted her up off of him and urged her forward some more, over his mouth.
Before she had a chance to fully comprehend his intention, he pulled her down toward his face, against his mouth, and tasted her in a way that made her entire body catch fire. Instinctively, Sara gripped the wrought-iron headboard and rose up on her knees, but Shane followed, clutching her buttocks now, pushing her forward, flicking his tongue into all the places his fingers had made ready, spurring a hot river of wantonness to flood her. Again and again he savored her, relished her, feasted upon her, and with each new advance, Sara felt as if she would come apart inside. Little ripples of pleasure began to expand from her center, growing wider and stronger with each new push forward from Shane. She heard a low, feral sound and then realized she was the one making it. And then, a tiny little explosion detonated inside her. Followed by another. And another. And another…
And then she was coming apart inside, splintering into hundreds of little shards of delight. Every cell in her body seemed to hum with ecstasy, joining into one massive explosion of gratification. She cried out again, but this time it was sheer pleasure, and not pain, that generated the response.
And the next thing she knew, she was lying beneath Shane, her fingers tangled in his hair, her mouth pressed hotly to his, her legs wrapped over his thighs as if she intended to never let him go. And as he kissed her, he entered her again, more slowly this time, giving her a chance to become accustomed to his size and presence. Little by little, he drove himself farther into her, all the while kissing her, holding her, telling her how beautiful she was, how sexy she was, how incredibly lovely she was….
And then he was fully inside her, spreading her wide, and the discomfort Sara had felt initially gradually began to ebb. She felt full of him, as if he had overtaken her, and his dominion excited her beyond belief. Because she could see in his face that she held reign over him, as well. She wasn’t the only one moved by their joining. Shane, too, seemed more than a little overwhelmed.
“You okay?” he asked raggedly when he had sheathed himself completely inside her.
She nodded weakly.
She shook her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sara.”
“You won’t.”
“But—”
“Shh,” she said softly, placing two fingers over his lips. “Just make love to me,” she told him. “Please. Make me yours, Shane. Make me always remember this night. Make me never forget…”
As he moved inside her, she found she could no longer speak, couldn’t finish her sentence about never forgetting him. Slowly, methodically, he withdrew and reentered her, her slick canal hugging his heavy length. Again and again he moved into and out of her, increasing his pace and his depth with each thrust. At Sara’s urging, he abandoned his tender entry for faster, more furious stroking, and she hooked her legs around his waist to pull him deeper still. And then, once again, she began to feel the little ripples of delight spiraling through her. This time, though, they came with a power and a fury they hadn’t before. This time, when Sara cried out, it was in union with Shane, something that made their responses to each other all the more volatile.
And then, as quickly as the eruption had come, it began to ebb. He relaxed against her, rolling to his side and bringing her with him, their bodies still joined. He folded both arms across her bare back, thrusting a hand into her hair at her nape. He pulled her close and kissed her temple with utter sweetness, something that seemed even more intimate than the coupling they had just shared. Then he moved far enough away to gaze at her face, saying nothing, looking into her eyes as if he were once again looking for the answer to some age-old question.
Sara wished she knew how to respond. But all she could manage was to lift a hand to his face and trace his full mouth with trembling fingertips. Then she kissed the lips her fingers had touched and lay her head on the pillow. The last thing she remembered was hearing Shane say her name. And then he said something else, too, but she was just too sleepy to hear it….
Dawn came way too early as far as Shane was concerned, even though, when he awoke, it was to find his senses over-flowing with Sara. He lay on his side, his arm draped over her rosy, naked body, fitted so perfectly against his own, his hand filled with her warm, luscious breast. When he inhaled, he smelled her, all sweet and musky and womanly, and when he opened his eyes to the faint morning light, he saw her face in profile on the pillow beside his, all elegant lines and graceful beauty. As he watched her, she murmured quietly in her sleep, echoing so many of the erotic sounds she’d uttered the night before, and Shane went hard against her bottom. He remembered how intoxicating she had tasted and, unable to resist, he dipped his head and brushed his lips along her cheek.
She woke slowly, turning her head back toward his, and he moved forward to cover her mouth, kissing her more ardently this time. She murmured another soft sound of pleasure as she kissed him back, reaching one hand lazily behind herself to weave her fingers through his hair. He in turn reached forward, pressing his hand over her naked belly, then down between her legs. She parted them willingly, and he dipped his fingers into her nest of curls, stroking and plowing her until she was damp with desire. He continued to pet her as he pushed himself deep inside her from behind, shoving his hips forward even as she pressed hers back. For long moments, they clung to each other, their mouths locked in a fierce union, Shane pumping gently but swiftly in and out of her. With one final forward thrust, he emptied himself into her one last time, and then both of them lay trembling, back to front, until the sun rose fully over the horizon.
And as whiter light bled over the windowsill, brightening the room and hastening their departure, Shane wished he knew what the hell they were supposed to do now.
Had he told her last night that he loved her? He couldn’t remember now. He thought he might have said the words he’d never once uttered to a woman, but now it seemed a hazy misconception. If he had said them, had he meant them? Oh, surely not, he told himself now. Sometimes a person said something in the throes of passion he might not say otherwise. And man what passion they’d been thrown into the night before. He couldn’t remember ever having such a shattering experience with a woman. Never in his life had he felt the things he’d felt last night with Sara. And she’d been a—
Oh, jeez, that was another thing. A virgin. He’d never bedded a virgin before. Virgins were just really tricky. They tended to take first times way too seriously. They tended to think of the men involved in those first times as special. The last thing Shane wanted to be for any woman was special. But then, Sara wasn’t just any woman, was she? No, she was—He swallowed hard when he realized. She was special.
Oh, hell. What was he supposed to do now?
Neither seemed to know what to do at that point, because they rose and washed and dressed in an awkward silence. Neither seemed any more inclined to look at the other than they did talk to the other, because they were as good about avoiding each other’s gazes as they were each other’s words. Maybe it was better if they didn’t talk about it, he thought. Not yet. There would be time later, he promised himself. Time for them to sort everything out once they got to Penwyck.
When they made their way downstairs, they found that Hilda had fixed breakfast for the four of them. They made quiet small talk—or, rather, Sara and the Santoses made quiet small talk, since Shane couldn’t begin to think of anything to say himself—and then Enrique offered to drive them to the nearest town, Maria Lupe.
The drive, too, took place mostly in silence, with only a few words exchanged between Sara and their host. Enrique dropped them off in front of the local police station, assuring them, she said through her translation, that the local constabulary would be most helpful about finding the bandits who had overtaken them in the mountains. When she and Shane climbed out of the car and said their goodbyes, Enrique thrust his hand out of the driver’s side window. As he shook Shane’s, he pressed some money into his palm, which Shane accepted guiltily, suspecting it had been hard-won by the elderly couple. Then their host wished them well and waved goodbye.
And then, once again, Sara and Shane were on their own, neither having a clear idea what to do next.
By mutual agreement, they turned their backs on the police station once Enrique was out of sight. Then, after a brief glance up one side of the street and down the other, they began to make their way toward a hotel that seemed to be the centerpiece for the town square. It made up one side of a small, green, parklike setting, with little shops and cafés hugging the other sides. Shane felt certain they would find a public telephone inside.
“I, um, I wrote down the Santoses’ address before we left so we can pay them back when we get to Penwyck,” he said, jingling the change Enrique had given him with the paper money as they made their way down the street. “I guess right now we should call someone, though.”
Sara nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll contact the RII immediately and they can tell the RET where we are.”
“The RET?” Shane asked. “Now who the hell are they?”
She seemed relieved by the bland subject matter, because she managed a slight smile—of clear relief. “The RET is part of the RII,” she clarified. “It stands for Royal Elite Team. The cream of the crop, so to speak. They’re essentially the king’s right-hand men. They direct covert operations and rescues and such. But it will be members of the RII who actually come to fetch us.”
“Sounds like an interesting group,” Shane said.
“Yes, they are, actually. As I said, my father worked for them,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “And I have a job waiting there myself once I graduate in the spring.”
Aha, Shane thought. That explained a lot about how Miss Pink Sweater had become Miss Butt Kicker.
“The RII will be the ones who’ve been handling our disappearance,” she continued. “It should make their jobs easier now that they won’t have to come beating through the brush to look for us.”
Shane nodded toward the hotel. “There’s probably a pay phone inside,” he said. And ro
oms, too, he thought further, seeing as how it would probably take the RII at least a couple of hours to get to them once they were called and maybe he and Sara could use that time to—
“Yes, of course,” she said, extending her hand toward him.
For a moment, Shane let himself believe she wanted him to take her hand in his and lead her to one of those hotel rooms where they could make a quick phone call and have a not-so-quick tumble. Then he made himself acknowledge that she just wanted the money he held, so he passed it to her. He also realized, much to his surprise, that he didn’t want to get a room so that the two of them could make love again. No, really, all he wanted to do with Sara in a quiet room was talk. About everything that had happened. About what they were going to do now. About what would happen once they arrived in Penwyck. And not just with the potential-missing-heir-to-the-throne thing, either.
“Thanks,” she said softly as she took the money from him…and, as she had since that morning, avoided his gaze.
Then she spun around and made her way up the stairs toward the hotel, leaving Shane nothing to do but follow. It was an antique building, to be sure, but grand, three stories high, and looking like a big, white, old-world palace. Hotel Magnífico, it said in scrolling letters over the dark green awnings that spanned each of the first-story windows. Shane couldn’t possibly disagree.
The inside was as charming as the outside, with pale pink stucco arches, and marble floors dotted with potted palms taller than Shane, and Oriental rugs that were splashed with muted tones. He almost felt as if he’d just stepped onto the set of Casablanca.
They located a phone in an alcove off the lobby that was partially obscured by some of those man-size palms, and Sara set about dialing. He knew there was little chance the Black Knights were lurking around, but he kept his back to her as she waited for a response, scanning the hotel lobby in search of suspicious characters and the usual suspects. But the place seemed harmless—not to mention pretty deserted—so he turned an ear to the conversation Sara began behind him. Unfortunately, he could only hear her side of it. But what he heard pretty much let him know that she was getting chewed out. Royally.
Taming The Prince (Crown & Glory Book 8) Page 14
