by Howe, Cheryl
She released the pressure of her thumb. “Christopher Ellis. Now that’s a fine name. Don’t know why you needed to make it such a big mystery.”
He lifted his head and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Some Indians believe if you tell a man your name it gives him power over you.”
She slipped her hands down to his waistband, working the tight muscles of his lower back. Occasionally her fingers would slip beneath his trousers, low enough for her to know he wore nothing else. She swallowed hard, keeping her voice light. “Well, I’m not a man, am I?”
He reached around with his right hand and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place while he turned to face her. “No, you’re worse.”
He nudged the chair aside. He sat on the edge of the table and brought her between his knees.
Lorelei followed his movements as willingly as a reflection in a mirror. She put her palms flat against his chest, spreading her fingers across the hard mounds of muscle. “I’m not finished yet.”
His arms circled her waist and he drew her against him. “Any lower, Lorelei, and you’d have been finished, all right. I don’t think you massaged your brothers like that.” He leaned down and kissed her quick and hard on the mouth as if he couldn’t help himself. “What were you thinking, girl?”
She let her head fall back, waiting for him to kiss her again. When he didn’t, she raised up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his. His mouth eased open but he let her do the kissing while he gripped her more tightly against him. She darted her tongue into his mouth, relishing his heat, the feel of his skin under her hands and his mouth on hers.
He was the sweetest thing she’d had in her life in a longtime. And she wanted more of him. Maybe it was the playacting of the last couple of days, but she wanted to know this man, to love him like a real husband. She glided her hands across his ribs, then up over the soft smattering of hair covering his chest, feeling the stampede of his heart. He was so alive and strong. She wanted his strength, and in return she would give him her softness, something she sensed he needed even if he never would admit it.
His hands drifted up her back and into her hair. His fingers entwined in her curls, guiding her head back. Sliding his tongue deeper into her mouth, he took over the kiss. He leaned into her as he tightened the arm wrapped around her waist. Rapidly he was becoming the aggressor, but she wasn’t afraid. Not like she had been with Berkley. But Berkley had been a gentleman up until the time he had gotten her alone in his carriage on a deserted country road. From Braddock she’d expected nothing but fierceness and been moved by his kindness.
She pulled her mouth away from his and nipped his ear. “Is this what you were afraid of, Christopher?”
His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom. He pulled her into the crook of his thighs. The heat radiating through his clothes rivaled the burn on his skin. “What are you doing, Lorelei?”
But he didn’t give her a chance to answer. He nipped at the skin over her collarbone, then kissed her breast through the white cotton of her shirt.
The cloth between them intoxicated and frustrated her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, gripping his shoulders for support. She didn’t know what she was doing. Her mind no longer had control over her body. From the moment he’d ridden onto Corey’s desolate homestead, Braddock had summoned desire, unwanted and forgotten, within her even as her own arousal shamed her. But since then so much had happened, she didn’t know why feeling so good should be wrong. What did it matter if they enjoyed each other? There was so little of it going around.
“I want to take you to bed,” he said from somewhere in a dream.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded different, deeper, like a stranger’s.
He sucked at the cloth covering her breast until it was completely saturated. The wet cotton slowly gave way to the feel of his tongue as he flicked it over her nipple. The jolt left her wanting more. She fumbled for the top button of her blouse.
He encircled her wrist, halting her progress. He moved from the table and guided her near the bed. “I want to undress you.”
The time to stop had come, warned a small voice in her head. The voice reminded her of the woman she had been, the proper lady she thought she was before her world had collapsed around her. She almost wanted to laugh at the old voice’s weakness. She had no intention or inclination to stop. With arms limp at her sides, she stood like a dresser’s doll, eager for him to do what he would. He hesitated at the first button, but she met his stare without blinking.
His gaze dropped to his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons. He had trouble pushing the small, cloth covered balls through their tiny holes. She didn’t feel the need to offer to help. He seemed fascinated with the task, as if undressing her were truly a wonder. Lorelei took a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell against his warm hands. He brushed his knuckles down the thin chemise, the only thing left between him and her bare skin. After an eternity, he opened her white blouse and skimmed it off her shoulders, grazing her bare skin wherever possible. Instead of being chilled by her lack of layers, she felt heat rise from her skin in an anxious fever.
When he reached for her homespun calico skirt he stopped, looking for how the garment was attached. She took his hands in hers and guided him to the tape hidden in the folds. With one quick pull, the top skirt fell to the floor. Her knee length chemise and one petticoat were all that remained of her modesty. She knew she should be embarrassed, but all she felt was urgency. Her usual layers would have made this process excruciating. Her skin already jumped with anticipation.
He rubbed his palms up her arms and over her shoulders, then back down again, pressing over her ribs and down her hips. Her body coiled into a knot of wanting at his touch. The secret place between her legs pulsed with a desire she had always been ashamed of until now. At this moment she wanted to follow that impulse wherever it led.
His hands returned to the waistband of her one petticoat, and he didn’t hesitate this time but went right to the tie and pulled it. The white cotton undergarment pooled around the discarded skirt. He lifted her from the pile of her clothing and swung her nearer the bed. His heart hammered against her chest and his breath came warm and ragged against her neck. He dipped his head and kissed her deeply, with more intensity and hunger than ever before. She returned his onslaught with the same fervor.
Breathing hard, he pulled away from her to grab the hem of her chemise and pull it over her head while she lifted her arms to help him. He absently dropped the garment to the floor, his gaze riveted to her naked body. He gripped her shoulders, holding her away from him so he could stare wherever he liked. Her cheeks flamed and she fought the urge to study her toes. Instead she watched his face, fascinated by his response. Looking at her seemed to excite him more than the kiss or even the touching. His pupils flared, giving him a dazed look.
She stood straight under his scrutiny, took a deep breath, and watched how the rise and fall of her chest drew him. She knew she was well formed, her breasts high and firm, her hips flared, her waist fairly small. But the way he looked at her, she felt rare and exquisite.
“Jesus,” he rasped.
She hooked a finger in the top of his trousers. “Your turn.”
She unbuttoned the top button. While he watched her hands, his breathing quickened. His reaction to her touch made her feel powerful. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought him the virgin.
Before she got halfway through the buttons, she brushed his hard, hot sex. She hesitated briefly, lost her nerve for an instant, but kept going. He didn’t seem to notice. She glanced up at him. His eyes were closed. Each deep breath he took seemed to be the only thing sustaining him.
When she reached the last button she pulled his pants over his hips, and the rigid flesh she had touched sprang forth, straight and fierce. She knelt and pulled his pants all the way down his legs. She was glad he kept his eyes closed, because it gave her the chance to freely gaze at him.
She had seen a ma
n naked before. You didn’t live in a cramped house with three brothers and avoid that, but she had never seen a man ready to take a woman. She had grownup around horse breeding and knew the logistics. But seeing his male part thick and engorged, knowing he was like this for her, sent the strangest jolt of excitement through her, with just a touch of fear.
She dragged her hands back up his body. When horses mated, it wasn’t uncommon for the animals to be hurt if the trainers weren’t in control. Lorelei wasn’t quite certain who was in control here. He kept his eyes closed and his hands by his sides as her palms roamed over his chest, back down his arms, and around his hips. She grazed him everywhere but where she knew he wanted her to touch him. The way he involuntarily jerked when her hands passed over the hollow of his hips gave his desire away.
She took a deep breath and wrapped her hand around his thickness. He inhaled sharply.
She squeezed, testing the hardness. It was such a strange thing, how ungiving it was, when she knew it would be pliant when he wasn’t aroused. She ran her hand to the tip, feeling the smoothness of his skin in contrast to the hardness underneath.
“Lorelei.” His voice sounded harsh, leaving her unsure whether he was encouraging her or asking her to stop. He wrapped one hand around hers, and with the other he gripped her shoulder as if bracing himself. He guided her hand back down and up again, then he leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“Your touch is so sweet,” he whispered into her ear.
He brought her hand up to his chest and pulled her into his arms. They stood toe-to-toe. Her breasts pressed against his lightly haired chest. Her head nestled under his chin. He just held her for a moment. She could hear his heart beat loud and strong. He rubbed his hands lightly up and then down her back. His gentle cradling was the nicest thing yet. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close. If she knew it would have been like this, she would have been eager the night in his hotel room.
When he cupped her bottom, molding her against him with a fierceness she sensed was only the beginning, she raised her face to his. He complied with her silent request and kissed her thoroughly. She had always liked kissing, but this was so much more. There was promise and hunger in this kiss.
By the time he stopped, her breath came in short gasps. Her stomach no longer fluttered with nerves but burned with an anxious need to continue. Wanting him inside her seemed as natural as gasping for breath. Before Christopher, she couldn’t fathom yearning for a man as clearly as she did now.
Without a word he guided her onto the bed. She lay on her back on top of the bedroll, wanting to crawl underneath but awaiting his next move. He stretched out beside her instead of over her, as she’d imagined.
He raised himself on one elbow and kissed her while he explored her body with his other hand. He used sweeping strokes, focusing his attention from her shoulder to her hip. His breath quickened when he paused at her breasts to flick his thumb over her distended nipples. She shut her eyes and gasped at the sharp burst of pleasure, but he’d already slid his hand down her belly. Even with her eyes closed, she sensed his restless need. She shifted and watched him again, not sure what he expected or wanted from her.
Once he reached his destination, she understood exactly what he wanted. He smoothed his palm over her hip, around her thigh, then hitched her right leg at an angle, leaving her open for his probing fingers. At his first touch she almost jerked off the bed. He gently stroked her, then slid a finger easily inside. When he moved in and out, she couldn’t help but match the rhythm with her hips. But almost as soon as she relaxed enough to let the exquisite sensation ooze through her body, he abruptly removed his hand.
He moved over her. “I can’t wait any longer and you’re ready for me. All right?”
She nodded, not sure what they would wait for anyway. Bracing his weight on his knees and one arm, he reached between them and guided himself to her opening.
“Spread your legs wider, sweetheart.”
She did, raising her knees and tilting her pelvis.
His head remained bent, and he must have liked what he saw. “That’s perfect. Open up for me.”
The first touch was as nice as his finger had been, but when he continued to push forward with his hips, she tensed. He braced his forearm by her head, leaned down, and kissed her.
“Relax, sweetheart. I’m going to go nice and easy until you get used to me.”
The pressure where they were joined grew increasingly uncomfortable, and for the first time Lorelei had second thoughts. She dug her fingers into his unyielding biceps.
He stilled his movements and kissed her, entwining his tongue with hers until the pleasure of their joined mouths coaxed her to relax. The pulsing fullness between her legs had begun to match the swirl of sensation in the rest of her body.
With more determination, he thrust forward again. This time she couldn’t stop from trying to shove him away as she let out an involuntary yelp. He tensed above her. For a long minute his heavy breathing filled the room. His eyes were closed, and sweat beaded his forehead.
Finally he opened his eyes. They were greener than she’d ever seen them. His gaze skewered her, and she had the uncomfortable sensation that he was mad at her.
“Lorelei.” His voice was harsh, like a parent scolding a child. “Are you a virgin?”
She wasn’t angry at his question. It seemed everyone assumed she had lost her virtue, and it didn’t bother her that he had to ask, but she had the distinct impression he felt she had cheated him somehow, lied to him about something very important.
“Yes.” She stopped herself short of apologizing.
At that moment her body reminded them of their tentative connection by pulsing around him. The pain eased and the pleasure she had experienced earlier rushed back. She shifted, arching her back slightly. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.
“Lorelei.” His struggle to control his apparent anger strained his voice and tightened his jaw. “Do you want me to stop?”
She ran her arms up his biceps. His muscles were tense and bunched, his skin wet from his strain. She didn’t want it to end like this.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “No.”
He kept his eyes closed, still not moving, and she wondered if he heard her. She wanted to ask if it would hurt again, but was afraid to speak. The closeness they had shared had shifted, teetering on a brink.
He opened his eyes and gazed down at her, studying her. He looked as if he were searching for a very important answer that could be found only in her face.
She touched his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said despite herself.
“That comes after.” He lowered himself until his chest pressed against hers. He kissed her mouth and slid his forearms under her back, scooping her up against him.
Before she could ask him what he meant, he forcefully thrust his hips while he tightened his arms. The pain flashed like a lightning bolt, fading as quickly as it began. She sucked in her breath and dug her fingers into his arms.
He trailed kisses down her neck as she tried to catch her breath. She stiffened and squirmed but he held her tight, nuzzling the sensitive spot just under her earlobe in a way that tickled. She turned her head away and he stuck his tongue in her ear.
“Stop that.” She laughed and realized the discomfort had ebbed away completely. Her body adjusted, sending pulses of pleasure out to her toes and the tips of her fingers. He raised back on his elbows and started to move.
First he rotated his hips in a gentle rocking. She arched against him, bringing her hips to meet his. As her eagerness grew, so did his aggression. His movements lost their gentle coaxing. He surged into her and she met him with a desperation she hadn’t known existed. She was breathing so fast, the pleasure so acute, she felt lightheaded. But neither of them could stop the maddening rhythm. She planted her feet on the bed and pushed up, wanting him to go harder, faster.
She existed on an eddy of pure sensation. She didn’t know how
long they went on, but abruptly he straightened his arms, pulling away from her.
“I have to pull out. Now,” he said in between ragged breaths.
Their connection ended when he dropped his weight to his knees. He braced himself above her just as the first shudder ripped through him. A hoarse moan tore from deep in his chest. She tried to sit up, to see if he was all right, when hot liquid shot across her belly. He was spilling his seed. He’d pulled out to make sure she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Lorelei felt chilled and relieved at the same time. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
She brushed her hands over his shoulders as spasms continued to rack him. She smoothed back his hair and said his name in soothing tones. He came back down into her arms, and some of the coolness of their abrupt separation ended.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and with their heads on the same pillow, she listened to his breathing slow to normal. He slung an arm over her waist and a leg over her thigh. She nestled into him and he pulled her to his chest.
“I should have started off slower.”
She kissed him lightly on the cheek, restless and too alert to be lying still in his arms. “I don’t think I could have stood it if you did.”
He brushed a lock of hair out of her face, hooking it around her ear. “Yeah, but you’d be feeling a whole lot more relaxed right now.”
Lorelei shifted to her elbow. “What do you mean?”
“Lorelei,” he started, then paused. “I guess I’m just trying to say I’m not the best of lovers.”
“Oh.” She thought about it a minute but didn’t really understand what he was getting at. “I liked it. It felt good after the pain.” Desire welled up in the pit of her stomach at the thought. In fact, she wanted to try it again, but could tell by the way he sank into the mattress that he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. “You felt really good.”
He grinned crookedly. “God, Lorelei. Don’t look at me like that. You’re going to be the death of me.”
She laid her head on the pillow and scooted closer. “But you liked it, didn’t you?”
