by Lauren Smith
She started trembling again and found the courage to speak his name. “Gareth…”
He froze when she spoke, his bright eyes shining in the gloom. “Yes?” he whispered.
“I’m nervous…” she confessed as his hands started moving again, baring her legs completely.
“I would never harm you. How can I convince you?” He moved slowly between her legs so that he stood against the bed’s edge, their hips close but not quite touching.
“Kiss me. I forget everything else when you kiss me.”
“Your wish is my command,” he murmured, then delved deeply into her mouth with his tongue.
Her fear slowly receded in the wake of his consuming kisses. She didn’t notice that he had pushed her back and removed his breeches. His mouth never left hers. He eased himself down on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around him, molding herself to his shape. His kisses became feverous and distracting until his length started to slide into her wet, swollen flesh. Helen dug her nails into his back, the spasm of pain shocking her as something tore deep inside her. She wanted to cry, but Gareth’s kisses softened, and she relaxed. The pain lessened and finally faded. A tension replaced it, a desperate ache that she’d never felt before. He needed to move harder, faster, to ease the need.
“Are you all right?” he asked, holding still above her.
She nodded jerkily. “Yes. It doesn’t hurt as much now.”
Helen moved beneath him, raising her hips, completely wanton and crazed with desire. His hands slid the chemise up and off her body, barely missing a second of her kisses. Her breasts pressed against his smooth, hard chest, and a tremulous sigh escaped her lips as he settled deeper into her body. It felt right, this union in the darkness and the rushed thrill of their hips meeting and withdrawing, the touch of limbs, and the caress of lips in forbidden places.
Gareth grew tighter inside her, his movements harder, and she matched his pace, yearning to release the tension coiling in her own body. They came together, his eyes locking upon hers as their passion crested like a mighty wave. He relaxed into her as a flare of heat spread deep inside her. She kissed his lips and cheek, murmuring his name over and over again like a midnight prayer as pure joy shook her entire body. He opened his mouth as though to speak but seemed to change his mind and kissed her again. When he regained his strength, he eased off her but pulled her to him, cradling her in his arms. Even with the press of his warm body against hers, she shivered.
“Are you hurting?” He stroked her arm, trailing his fingertips down over one of her breasts. Her skin burned as he teased the soft curve of her hip and let his hand rest on her thigh.
“No… I’m just a little cold,” she whispered back.
He chuckled and moved away, pulling the covers back onto the bed so they could slide between the sheets. “Better?”
“Much better.” She rolled onto her side to face him. He was a dark silhouette against the moonlit windows behind him. Gareth brushed a lock of her hair back from her face, his thumb tracing her lower lip. She felt safe, content… Nothing in the world could ever harm her, not so long as he touched her, held her close. Helen drifted to sleep beneath his protective embrace.
Gareth watched her eyelids fall shut and listened to her soft steady breath as she drifted to sleep. She was so trusting, to give him her virginity, knowing it should have gone to the man she would have married. It was a gift, one he vowed to cherish. He smoothed a hand down the flair of her full hips, perfect for him to hold. It felt incredible to hold a woman in his arms, and not just any woman, but Helen. There was something irresistible about her that kept drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
At last he had found the contentment he’d been robbed of. The years he’d wasted looking in all the wrong places. One simple night with Helen had cleansed his heart. In her little sighs, shivers, and kisses, he’d been reborn. It reminded him of his time with Clarissa. Theirs had been a love match—a powerful one. They had played and romped about as children, quarreled as lovers, and united as man and wife.
Apart from his best friend, Ambrose Worthing, there had been no other person in his life he had trusted himself to love. But with Helen, he could feel that giddy rush of first passion and knew it could all too easily strengthen into deep love. It was dangerous to care for her as he did, but there could be no denying his feelings.
Could he marry her? He’d believed it wasn’t possible, but he had ruined her, despite knowing he should not have touched her or kissed her. He’d gone and taken everything she could give and still wanted more. Gareth started to smile at the idea of marriage, but his smile wilted. He did not deserve Helen. She ought to have been courted properly by some strapping young lad who would write sonnets about her cornflower blue eyes and the tinkling bell of her laugh.
What could he offer her? An empty home, a wasted life, and a husband who was afraid to love? A woman often believed she loved the first man who showed her passion, but she might not love him. Could she come to love him in time? If he were to convince her to wed him? Would it be enough? If they married, would their union withstand being born as a ruthless transaction? Her virtue for his honor?
About the Author
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Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She knew she was destined to be a romance writer when she attempted to re-write the entire Titanic movie just to save Jack from drowning. Connecting with readers by writing emotionally moving, realistic and sexy romances no matter what time period is her passion. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.
To Connect with Lauren, visit her at:
www.laurensmithbooks.com
[email protected]
