“What’s wrong, Elena?” His eyes sparkled in the low light that danced along the sheen of his hair, falling almost to his shoulders in loose waves. Normally he kept it tied back, but seeing him this way did the oddest thing to her senses. He looked so positively…feral. That was the only way to describe it. She’d become so accustomed to the proper gentleman that seeing this man looking at her as if he’d like nothing more than to eat her with a spoon made her heart pick up its pace.
“N-nothing. Nothing at all.” The scene with Huxley flashed through her mind. She couldn’t picture Bennett ever growing so angry with her, so violent. And yet, what if—
No. Don’t do this.
“Darling”—his concerned voice broke through her fog—“what is it? You’re acting as if you’re afraid of me. Are you?”
She shook her head, a nervous smile twitching the corners of her lips. “A little, perhaps. But not exactly of you…” she admitted, gazing at his extended hand. He had lovely hands, large and square, and not all beaten up, as her brothers’ hands were from their lives at sea. Bennett’s fingers were long and just thick enough to look manly without looking beastly.
“You’ve no need to be afraid, love.” His murmured endearment sent a shiver through her. It sounded so lyrical, spoken in his elegant accent. “You need only say the word and I will stop.”
“What if you can’t? Stop, I mean.” Her heart hammered even harder now, the heavy thud reverberating in her ears over the rush of her blood. She slipped her hand into his, and those long fingers curled about hers. “Huxley wouldn’t. Not until I hit him, that is.”
“Not all men use force, darling. You only have to say stop and I will, no matter where or when.”
He tugged her hand, and her feet obeyed, propelled her toward him, toward the fate awaiting them, the roar of her blood pulsing through her to drown out the triple pace of her heartbeat.
His free arm slid about her waist, pulling her closer still, and he brought the fingers he held to his lips. It was only the gentlest of kisses, but the shock tore up her arm and raced through her. She slipped her hand from his, letting it come to rest on his shoulder, where it sloped into his neck. Her fingertips brushed his skin, and he sucked in a sharp breath, which made her smile. “Why, my lord, I had no idea you were so sensitive.”
“Neither did I,” he replied, his mouth hovering inches from hers.
Then he kissed her, soft and gentle, and her fingers splayed along his nape, tucking beneath the fall of his silky black hair, where she stroked with a feathery touch. Her lips parted to taste his sigh, and as his tongue caressed hers, she tightened her hold on him.
That was all it took. She melted into him, her other arm sliding about his midsection as he bent her back slightly, his kiss becoming deeper, more urgent. She felt the thick bands of muscle wrapping his arms as they tightened about her. She hadn’t expected a lord, an earl, to be so finely built. Obviously, he did something at Dunning Court that kept him in such fine shape.
As he kissed her, his hands slid up along her back and within minutes her gown simply spilled from her shoulders to puddle at her feet. Her corset followed, leaving her in only the thin muslin chemise. She shivered against him, although the breeze wafting in the windows was warm. That he was so adept at undressing her came as surprise.
He broke the kiss, smiling as he caught her behind the knees with one arm to sweep her up into his arms. “This is how your first time should be, love,” he murmured, his eyes holding hers as he spirited her to the bed and pressed her into the mattress.
She expected him to cover her body with his, to feel his weight, to welcome it. But instead he hovered above her, hands just beyond her shoulders, arms slightly bent, and just gazed down at her as if he hadn’t expected to find her beneath him, as if he couldn’t believe she was there.
Something swirled in the oceanic depths of his eyes. She didn’t know what it could be, but it brought to life a flutter deep inside her belly. A pleasant flutter. One that spread through her as she whispered, “What is it?”
“You, Elena,” he replied, his voice low and filled with what sounded like wonder. “You take my breath away. Do you know that?”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Oh, very good.” He smiled, and then leaned down just enough to brush her lips with a kiss. “Very good, indeed. My beautiful Elena.”
“My name sounds so pretty when you say it. So…so elegant,” she whispered. Her throat felt tight, but in a good way, which made speaking difficult. So many emotions swirled through her as she gazed up at him. Did he know how strikingly handsome he truly was? His eyes seemed even bluer now, riveted on her beneath the thick slashes of his dark brows.
“Elena.” He bent toward her again, and this time his kiss was neither gentle nor light, his mouth slashing down over hers.
He lowered to his forearms, and she slid her arms about his waist to pull him directly into her. His shirt pulled free of his breeches, so she pushed it higher, skimming her hands flat against his back. Smooth. Hot. As firm as marble.
Bennett thoroughly explored her mouth, his tongue sweeping along hers, sinful and slow, leaving her breathless with the need for more. He broke the kiss to graze her jaw, then down along her neck, and she arched to receive each delectable sensation he sent firing through her. And they were indeed delectable. Delicious. With each pass of his soft lips, her limbs became more and more pliant. She wanted to melt into him, to feel his skin bare against hers.
Those wonderful sensations tickled all up and down her back as he nuzzled her, kissed her just below her left ear. Her eyelids refused to remain open, sliding shut as he gently nipped at skin she hadn’t known was so sensitive. Her head lolled to the side at the teasing tip of his tongue over her pulse.
“Oh, my… That feels so nice,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as Bennett dipped lower. He kissed with sensual slowness, down over her collarbone, and this time, when he lifted his head, he smiled and shifted to one arm. With his free hand, he caught the pale lavender ribbon of her chemise between his thumb and forefinger and pulled. The ribbon slipped free, the muslin parted and slipped wide. He swept the fabric wider still to bare her left breast, heat prickling all through her at the way his eyes widened at the sight. No man had ever seen her this way. The heat sweeping along her skin was equally arousing and uncomfortable, and her first instinct was to draw the chemise closed.
“No, darling,” he whispered. His fingers curled about her wrist, halting her movement and, to her surprise and horror, he bent his head to capture her nipple between his lips.
She couldn’t hold her cry of delight at the fiery pleasure he brought to life. He was gentle, his tongue swirling slowly about her nipple to tease it into a tight peak. That tightness spread through her, wicked and sweet, and she wanted to move beneath him, to arch up and seek relief.
Bennett flicked his tongue roughly over the bead and she cried out again. When he tried to pull away, she wouldn’t let him. She thrust her fingers into the silky thickness of his hair, twisted to hold him still, while murmuring, to her surprise, “Please don’t stop…”
His laugh blew warm against her sensitive skin as he managed to lift his head. “Worry not, darling. I’ve only just begun.”
She shivered as he dipped toward her, only this time he teased her right nipple. Again, he flayed her sensitive flesh with his tongue—rough at first, but then soothing. The knots in her belly dropped lower, into the center of her being, where the ache took on an even stronger hold. It threatened to consume her with each lavish stroke, each teasing nip. It made her chemise feel too heavy against her skin, made her limbs feel as if they’d been turned to water. The dampness between her legs was as heady as any caress.
Claudia’s words poked at the back of her brain, but not nearly enough to dull the pleasure racing through her. Bennett’s hand skimmed up along the length of her thigh, over her hip, dragging muslin in its wake. When the chemise bunched up at her waist, he pulled away l
ong enough to whoosh it up and over her head.
A low groan rose in his throat, and he sounded almost strangled as he murmured, “Beautiful.”
Before she could respond, he kissed his way down over her belly, over the ridge of her hip bone. His lips teased her thigh, his tongue darted out in gentle flicks and sensual swirls. She thought she might melt from the pleasure of it all, and this time, when she twisted her fingers in his hair, it wasn’t to hold him still but to guide him back up to her.
However, he was of another mind. Her eyes, previously so heavy lidded she could barely keep them open, snapped wide as he nuzzled the black curls between her thighs. She froze, shaking her head. “No…please…” she whispered.
He lifted his head, and his eyes blazed so blue she was afraid they might burn right through her. “Darling, you will enjoy it. I promise.”
He wanted to kiss her there? How wicked would that be? And how wicked would she be if she allowed it?
The thought was enough to make her squirm and not in a pleasant way. She shook her head. “Oh, no…I don’t…I couldn’t…”
“Of course you could,” he murmured, brushing her inner thigh once more.
She shook her head with more force. “I don’t…”
“You can trust me, Elena.” His fingers stroked her knee. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Please.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to scowl, to become angry with her. But instead, he kissed the inside of her left thigh. “As you wish, love.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s all right. The day will come when you will allow me to do this and then you’ll kick yourself for pushing me away.”
He came up and covered her body with his. His lips captured hers in a long, lingering kiss and as he kissed her; his left hand skimmed up along the inside of her thigh and into the thatch of curls instead.
She gasped into his mouth as his fingers slipped into the heat between her thighs. He did something magical with one finger, slowly circled the most powerful of pleasure points on her body, and then gently eased it inside her.
Her fingernails bit into the fabric of his shirt at the shoulders and she tore her mouth from his to cry out at the sudden feverish bliss ensnaring her. It blossomed, billowing out like smoke to engulf her. She clutched at his shirt, twisted the fine lawn and yanked it up as her hips rose to meet that wonderful, sweet pleasure he created with that one single finger.
“Bennett!” Her voice sounded so odd to her ears, breathless and pleading. She wanted him to give her relief, to ease the sensual torture, wanted to throw him onto his back and devour him whole.
He teased her mercilessly and when she was on the brink of utter madness, he eased his finger free, laughing softly as she shook her head feverishly and moaned, “No…don’t…”
“Easy, love,” he whispered, as she yanked sharply on his shirt once more. He rocked back to tug it over his head, and she reached to pop the falls of his breeches. As their lips met again, she smoothed her hands up over his flat, firm belly, through the sprinkling of dark hair that ran up the middle of it, spreading over the rise of his chest. Her fingers brushed his nipples, and he moaned into her mouth. His hips ground hard into her.
She felt that bulge, felt that part of him growing harder, and curiosity overwhelmed her. She skimmed her hand down, slid it into his breeches, until she found what she sought and her fingers curled about the hot, smooth part of him to stroke him slowly.
He let out a heavy breath and shuddered against her, moving in time with her caresses in a slow, steady rhythm. She peered up at him to make certain she wasn’t hurting him and saw the most divine look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes were open and he gazed down at her with that look of wonder again, and she felt it clear through to the center of her being.
“I want to be inside you, love,” he whispered just before reaching down to prize her hand from him. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes…” she whispered, grabbing a handful of his breeches. She had to see him, had to take him in, in all his glory.
He shifted and shucked the breeches, letting them fall over the side of the bed. Her eyes widened as they fell on him. He was every bit as fine as he’d felt through his clothes, lean and solid, with chiseled muscles along his arms and shoulders, down over his belly, looking very much as if he could easily lift a horse and not even break a sweat.
Her gaze went lower, and her mouth went dry. He was no small man, not that she had anything to compare him to, but she was most impressed.
He moved with an easy grace, covered her once more and captured her lips with his. As his mouth moved against hers, his hips settled between her thighs. It was her turn to shiver now as he slid through her curls. Once. Twice. With each pass, she grew more breathless with need and ached for him to finally put an end to it.
He eased a hand between them.
Then it happened.
He breached her, and the hot sting clamped about her like a giant’s fist. Where was Claudia’s little “pop”? This was hardly a little pop. This was pain.
No, agony.
“Oh!” She couldn’t hold her cry, no matter how hard she tried to mash her lips together. It was too much to bear and hot tears stung her eyes. “Please, stop…it hurts!”
“Elena—” He sighed.
“Please.”
At once, the burning stopped, and she felt him slick between her thighs. His head sank into the curve of her shoulder, his breathing hard and erratic. A sense of idiocy surged through her, along with furious disappointment. She’d so anticipated this moment, and now, in a moment of weakness, she ruined everything.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered, her tears slipping out from beneath her lashes.
“No, no, love,” he murmured, kissing one wet trail along her cheek. “It’s all right, really. Don’t cry, Elena, please.”
“I want to do this”—her voice broke in her haste to push the words out before it was too late—“and I knew it would hurt. But this much?”
“Darling, look at me,” Bennett said, and she opened her eyes to see him rise onto his right elbow, his left hand now resting on her belly. “It’s only temporary. The pain, I mean. It will stop.”
Feeling even more the idiot, she swiped at her eyes with one hand. “I know, but…it really hurt, Bennett.”
He sank beside her and pulled her into his arms, his hand moving lightly over her hair. “Don’t cry, darling. We can try another night, if you wish.”
He kissed the top of her head, his hand skimming along the length of her arm. She lay quietly, her mind whirling with everything that had happened. Was she truly going to let a little twinge stand between her and what Bennett wished to share with her?
No. She’d regret it for the rest of her days.
With that, she let her hand slide down over his belly, lower still until she found that part of him she sought and curled her fingers about him once more.
“Elena,” he murmured, his voice growing husky as he lifted his head, “what are you doing?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” she murmured. “And since I’m allowed to do that, lie still and let me change it, won’t you?”
“As if I’d argue.” His breath hitched and he sank into the pillow, a low groan rumbling in his throat as she continued her slow, careful caress.
His body fascinated her. He responded to her quickly, moaning softly with each touch. His breathing quickened, which encouraged her to be bolder with him. At first, she was gentle, afraid she’d hurt such a sensitive part of his body.
But then he whispered, “It won’t break, you know.”
She couldn’t help it. She giggled. “I don’t wish to hurt you.”
“Trust me, darling girl”—he sucked in a sharp breath and let out a lusty sigh—“you are not hurting me.”
That was all the encouragement she needed, and it was only a few minutes before he flipped over and pinned her firmly beneath him. When
his hand slid between them, she was ready, and when he made his approach, she drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the burn.
She braced herself for the pain, but Bennett’s lips found hers and when she felt the pop, she was ready. It hurt, and she stiffened against it, even as he kissed her deeply. Little by little, the pain faded, and then he was inside her, sliding deep. He broke the kiss, nuzzling her, groaning softly into her ear. He filled her and as the stinging eased, she noticed something amazing. That part of him touched—no, stroked—her so sweetly, the fire now spilling into her blood carried delicious heat and sensual bliss.
He went still, breathing hard into the slope of her neck as he murmured, “Elena?”
“Yes?” she murmured just as drowsily.
“Just checking.” He drew back his hips and slowly buried himself deep again. The stroke was so gentle and yet, where it stung before, now she smiled. Oh, this feels nice…
Again, he thrust. Again, he withdrew, but didn’t ease himself from her completely.
Forget nice, this felt good.
He worked magic on her body, bringing forth such delectable sensations, sensual and utter pleasure. With each carefully controlled thrust, he pushed her closer and closer to the edge of the abyss.
Oh, so very good, indeed…
She looked up to see a much more serious expression on his face. He looked almost grim, gritting his teeth, and a muscle bulged along his jaw. His eyes were no longer soft and sleepy, but dark and alive with desire.
A hint of doubt crept in to break up the pleasure like a finger in a soap bubble. It felt so good for her, but perhaps it didn’t for him. Perhaps she was doing something wrong? “Bennett, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, love.” The muscle in his jaw bulged even further and his thrusts became swifter, harder. “Nothing at all.”
Her hips rose and fell in time with him, her body in perfect rhythm with his, and those tight knots twisted and spun, and the wicked delight of it all threatened to blow her apart. She felt the need for release; sharp and sweet at the same time. Her fingernails bit into his bare shoulders as he rose. His hands twisted in the coverlet above her hair as he thrust even harder.
The Earl's Perfect Match (Sebastiano series) Page 19
