by Sharon Ihle
“You see?” he whispered suggestively. “It looks like I have the cure for what ails you after all.”
Rayna’s voice, a husky brandied sound, cracked. “I think maybe you do.”
Encouraged, Gant caressed her naked back, loving the feel of her satiny skin as it rippled beneath his touch. She was hot all right, at least as hot as he was, but oddly enough, nervous, too. She seemed to be holding back a little, tense and afraid. And that's when the enormity of the situation hit him, filling him with awe and the raw kind of passion that sprang from his soul. He and Rayna were on the brink of something new, virgins all over again in an even deeper sense of the word. Both would emerge from this night changed forever.
“It’s going to be different this time,” he promised, feeling those new, raw emotions. “Different and new. It’s going to be something neither of us has ever experienced before. Do you feel it, too?”
Unable to speak, barely able to swallow, Rayna’s lashes bobbed against her cheeks as she nodded, mouth parted, tongue sliding along the inside of her bottom lip.
Gant glanced over toward the beds, his gaze skimming first the lower bunk, and then the upper. He quickly realized that the top bunk belonged to Rayna, but the mattress was narrow, the framework sturdy enough to support one person, not two.
“It’s going to be different,” he remarked, looking back at Rayna. “And I think it might be a little difficult, too.”
Glancing toward the bunks, Rayna gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile. “I’m not used to, ah, entertaining in my cabin. Got any suggestions?”
“Oh, yeah,” he promised, releasing her as his fingers drifted across the tips of her breasts.
Rayna trembled at his touch, her skin heating, nipples taut. As eager as she to proceed, Gant skimmed one fingertip down into the valley between her breasts, and then dragged it upwards along her throat and chin until it came to rest at the tip of her nose.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “Understand? Don’t move.”
Rayna nodded obediently, hardly able to believe that Gant had her so firmly under his control. Never before had a man, any man, gained such mastery over her. Never before had she dreamed that the effect could be so overwhelmingly exciting. Almost before she could blink, or even begin to understand how he’d reduced her to a quivering mass of need, Gant returned, her mattress in hand.
Pinning her with a hot, meaningful gaze, he tossed the pallet to the floor and then held out his hand. “Come here.”
Her legs heavy, body swollen and moist with desire, Rayna went to him. When she reached the center of the mattress and stood there naked to his gaze from the waist up, she bent her knees as if to lower herself on the makeshift bed. Gant caught her, holding her upright in his strong grip.
“No, Rayna. We’re doing things my way tonight.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, amazed to hear such pleading, such need in her own voice.
“Love you. I only want to love you.”
And then he did just that. Hooking his fingers around the waistband of Rayna’s tights and the abbreviated pantalettes beneath them, Gant slowly rolled the garments down over her hips. The cotton tights pooled around her ankles, and Gant lifted her foot, urging her to grip his shoulders for balance as he scattered kisses along her instep, whispering ‘I love you’ against the tender skin he found there. His gentle hands cupped her calves, velvet soft against her skin, and then slid upwards, lingering on the ultra-sensitive spot at the back of her knees. Rayna moaned at this, a soft purr in her throat. When Gant’s mouth replaced his hands, and then moved ever higher, skimming along her thighs like wings of fire, her legs automatically parted, and that purr became a low, rudimentary groan.
Lost to these new sensations as Gant pressed his mouth against her body, caught up in raw, long-dormant passions as his kisses became more intimate and probing, Rayna drove her fingers into Gant’s hair and tightened them, anchoring her suddenly gyrating hips. Her head fell back and she cried out with pleasure as he brought her ever faster to the highest peaks, the sensations so highly erotic and intense as to skirt the boundaries of pain. When she crested, giving herself up to a shattering and shocking climax, Rayna’s knees buckled and she would have fallen had it not been for Gant’s fingers so firmly embedded against her buttocks.
“Dear God,” she cried out, drunk with pleasure. “Oh, my God.”
Rayna staggered backwards as if stumbling out of Gant’s reach, but he caught her and pulled her down on the mattress beside him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered thickly, echoing her words of so long ago. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Then he rolled her onto her back. After he’d quickly stripped off the rest of his clothing, Gant was suddenly above her, staring down at her, the depth of his love shining clearly in his dark eyes.
Touched beyond tears, Rayna pressed her hand against his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Gant. Not for a long, long time.”
His heart soaring, his body strained beyond the limits of his endurance, Gant issued a ragged groan as he lowered his hips and fit them between her legs. Then he slowly eased himself inside of her. Had she ever feel this good before? he wondered, dazed, forcing himself to go slowly, to savor each excruciatingly delicious thrust. He felt so much more than love here with this woman. He’d found paradise.
It was then that Gant realized that he and Rayna were not merely having sex, but making love. It was no longer just a word or phrase, but verity. The realization stunned Gant with such enormity, he could no longer keep those swelling emotions inside himself.
“I love you, Rayna,” he murmured. “God how I love you. Tell me how you feel right now, tell me that you love me.”
Setting her own raging passions aside for the moment, concentrating on his words, not the luxury of his body entwined with hers, the way he filled her, teased her to new heights, she tried to form the words that would please him, but fear kept them trapped in her throat.
“Please,” he whiskered huskily, his thrusts shorter, more frantic. “I have to hear it. Tell me. Say it now.”
Rayna understood what he was after with a startling clarity then, knew from the tone of his voice, the look in his eye that Gant had never heard those words before, not from anyone. She couldn’t deny him any longer, even if she had to lie.
She sucked in her breath as his thrusts deepened, driving her to a near frenzy, and then whispered the words he longed to hear. “I love you, Gaje.”
Desperate for air, his hot blood thundering in his veins, Gant dragged in a quick breath as the crescendo in him grew, and he managed one last lucid response. “Again, Princess. Say it again.”
The plea was unnecessary. The minute the words had fallen from her mouth, Rayna had felt the raw truth in them, and knew she could never deny the emotions that went with them again. Her nails dug into Gant’s back as he ground his pelvis against hers, and this time when she cried out to him, her heart joined in the chorus.
“Yes, oh, yes. I do love you, Gant. I’ll always love you.”
That final declaration was the catalyst that sent them both over the edge of reason, to exquisite mind-shattering ecstasy, and then beyond to a great quiet lap of pulsating pleasure. Still lying together as one long after their breathing had slowed, Gant eased his chest off of Rayna, but loathe to separate himself from her for even one moment, remained buried inside of her. He caught her radiant gaze, the reflection of the love stirring inside of him, and another surge of emotion took him by storm.
Caressing her forehead, skimming her swollen lips with feather-soft kisses, Gant murmured, “Did I say this night would be different? Just different?”
Rayna’s smile was languid, contented as she said, “I believe those were your words. This was different, all right, and much, much more.”
She couldn’t help a small giggle as she thought back to some of the things he’d done to her. “Where,” she boldly asked. “Did you learn to, ah, kiss me the way you did?�
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“From you,” he answered quickly and honestly, filling his lungs with her scent, the faint tang of citrus in her hair.
“Me?” Rayna tried to sit up, but Gant nudged her back down on the mattress.
“Yes, you,” he whispered. “I learned from watching your responses and from wanting you in every way a man can want a woman. Did I please you well?”
“Oh, yes, you did. You pleased me enormously.”
“Enormously?” Gant laughed from deep in his belly. “That’s the way you make me feel. Enormous.” He brought her hand down to his groin. “Needy.” And then wrapped her fingers around his body. “And wondering if you wouldn’t like to watch a few of my responses to you. I have a feeling as long as you’re around, I’ll be like this for the rest of my life.”
Rayna held the velvet-smooth length of him in her hand, but resisted the urge to stroke him. “Before we say or do anything else, we have to talk about the rest of your life, Gant. I don’t know what you expect of me from here on out, or what kind of future you think we might have together, but it’s not going to be easy.”
“I know,” he murmured softly. “I made a poor choice of words, I guess, but believe me when I say that I’m not asking you for the rest of your life, or even offering mine. I can’t promise you that now or ever.”
He ran his hand along the curve of her hip, loving the feel of her satiny skin. Then he added, “I only meant to suggest that we love and enjoy each other for the short time we have together, however long that might be. There’s nothing wrong in that, is there?”
She wasn’t sure. In fact, if she were honest with herself, in many ways Rayna was as confused about the curse she bore as Gant was. If only Maria were here to counsel her, to explain the ramifications of Queen Persa’s scorn. She only knew her love for this man could be a deadly thing for him, and yet love him she did—love him, she had, and for much longer than she’d realized. Would the threat hang over her head for as long as she loved Gant, or had his arrogant dismissal of its powers negated the evil influences as he suggested?
Gant continued to stroke Rayna’s body as she considered the future, his sensuous caresses centering on her slightly rounded tummy. Trying not to rush her on a topic so important to them both, he lightly addressed another issue.
“How are you feeling?”
With a low, throaty chuckle, she said, “You have to ask?”
“Not about that,” he said, laughing with her. “I was wondering if you’re still dizzy or feeling sick.” He skirted the rim of her navel with a sensitive fingertip. “You scared hell out of me when you fell off of that rigging.”
“I’m fine, honest.” Rayna’s breath caught as that fingertip drifted lower, brushing against the apron of ebony curls at her groin. “Like I told Mollie, I lost concentration while I was spinning, and made myself dizzy. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be ready for the show tonight.”
“Then I have only one other question.” He whispered against her skin, his mouth slowly working its way across her breast to her nipple. “Are you ready for me?”
Responding more to his touch than the question, Rayna’s ‘yes’ was a soft hiss as she arched her back and shifted her hips impatiently.
“For more than just tonight?” he asked. “For as long as we both feel this way?”
She couldn’t argue the point with any rationale that made sense, and she’d already acknowledged even to herself that she loved him very, very much. Rayna decided then to settle into what she knew would have to be a brief, possibly uneasy, alliance. Determined to give him and herself at least these few stolen moments of happiness, she wrapped her arms around Gant’s neck and pulled him down to her waiting mouth.
Whispering against his lips, she said, “As long as you want me, Gaje, I’m yours.”
Eager as before, Gant gathered Rayna into his arms, and then nudged her legs apart with his knee.
“No,” she said, pushing against his chest.
“No? But we have plenty of time. The next show doesn’t start for hours yet.”
“How very convenient.”
Rayna grinned at Gant, her expression wicked, and then continued to prod him until he rolled over onto his back. Rising up on one elbow, she leaned across his chest and ran her hands along the hard ridges of muscle there. Her gaze followed the flat planes above his nipples, and then went to his ribs beneath his arm. There Zoltaire’s bright pink signature caught her eye, especially the lower scratch, which was a deeper rose color. Rayna slid down to the spot and tenderly kissed the healed wound.
Plunging his hands into her raven hair, Gant asked, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing much.” Loving the feel of that firm hard flesh beneath her fingertips, making up her mind, Rayna raised her head until she could look him in the eye. “I’m just watching your responses, wondering what I can do to surprise you the way you surprised me.”
Gant’s eyes, ears, everything perked up. “And?”
“And,” she whispered seductively. “I think I have a lot to learn.”
*
Two hours later Gant leisurely made his way down to the main deck, leaving Rayna to freshen up and dress for the show in privacy. While he wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that she ought to perform again tonight, she’d insisted that she was feeling fine and that being stuck in her room would do her more harm than good.
As he walked, Gant thought back to the last few hours he’d spent with the woman he loved, more to the incredible level of fulfillment he and Rayna had reached both physically and emotionally. Nothing, but nothing had ever filled him the way she did, stretching his emotional pockets with such joy, he was sure they would split at the seams.
As Gant’s boot touched down on the main deck, Toby fired up the calliope, announcing the opening of the second show. With a grin so wide it threatened to split his jaw, Gant headed for the barn area to see if he could be of any help preparing the lions for the first act.
J.R., still dressed in the tights and Union jacket he wore during his wire-walking act, was hurling chunks of raw meat into Hannibal’s cage as Gant approached.
He glanced up at his older brother and said, “Well it’s about time you showed up. Where the hell you been?”
Gant shrugged. “I took Rayna back to her cabin after she fell, and then stayed a while talking to her and making sure she was all right.”
J.R. flung the last handful of beef into the cage, and then turned to regard his brother. Gone was the strain around his eyes as well as the bitter expression he’d been wearing of late. In its place, J.R. could see a certain serenity, a deep satisfaction of mind and body that almost made his skin glow.
Grinning sheepishly, J.R. said, “Are you sure you was just talking to her?”
“That’s right,” Gant said in a tone that left no room for speculation. “Can I help you? Where’s Hans?”
After J.R. wiped his hands on a towel and tossed it aside, he showed his brother a big buck-toothed grin. “Za German is packing. He quit.”
“No kidding? Did he say why?”
“Hans said something about being tired of circus life, sick of boats, and full up to his fluffy blonde hair with the stench of lions.” J.R. rolled his eyes and laughed. “Or maybe he quit because he didn’t like smelling like a pile of manure everywhere he went. All’s I know for sure is that he turned in his notice to Mollie, and then he went looking for you. Guess he didn’t find you, huh?”
As Gant thought back over the last few hours, he realized that he did have a hazy recollection of some muffled thumps while he and Rayna dozed between periods of lovemaking, sounds, he supposed that could have been someone knocking on her cabin door.
Smiling to himself, Gant shrugged and said, “No, Hans didn’t find me. What does he want?”
“We must work out za payment,” the man himself answered as he rounded the corner and strolled into the stable area. “I have told Mollie that she can keep za lions and pay me for them as she can. Is this agreeable
to you?”
Gant nodded, grimacing as he sniffed a foul odor. He backed away from the German as he said, “That’s fine with me, Hans.”
The lion-tamer didn’t miss the significance of Gant’s expression. He leaned down and caught his boot heel in his hand. When he spotted the mess, he dropped his foot.
“Not again,” he complained. “This is too much. I cannot understand why this keeps happening to me.”
Gant and J.R. glanced at one another, each trying to keep a straight face, and then shrugged in unison.
“I go now,” Hans declared, obviously eager to leave the ship. “I have booked passage on a steamer heading to New Orleans tonight. I will send my new address when I get back to Europe.”
Then he clicked his heels together, bowed slightly, and muttering to himself in German, stomped off.
