Deceive Not My Heart

by Shirlee Busbee

  His lips were warm and compelling as they moved across hers; the touch of his hand on her breast was nearly unbearable and with a soft moan of helpless pleasure she stopped fighting the yearnings of her ardent young body and melted against him. Urgently her arms fastened around his neck and uncontrollably her body arched up next to his, wanting... Oh, God, wanting him so very much. It didn't matter anymore that she should distrust him, it didn't even matter that he was a master of duplicity, all that mattered was this moment, this moment, when his lips were fervently exploring hers and his tall, hard body was crushed against hers.

  Leonie's sweet response destroyed any coherent thought Morgan had, and almost savagely he searched her lips, his tongue erotically penetrating the inner sweetness of her mouth. With a brutal tenderness, his hands roamed over her slender body, kneading her shoulders, caressing her back and cupping her buttocks to pull her even closer to him. He wanted her with a desperate intensity that only increased as they strained together, their bodies locked together in a fiercely passionate embrace.

  Desire ruling her body, Leonie's hesitating touches grew bolder. Compelled by an ageless need, she pushed aside his robe and stroked his naked chest, his skin feeling warm and rough under her hands. Slowly, savoringly, she explored his upper torso, her fingers traveling over him, lingering on his muscled chest. To her delight she felt his nipples harden and throb beneath her touch and eager to explore further, her fingers undid the sash of his robe and slipped lower to tangle in the thick mat of black curly hair of his groin.

  Morgan sucked in his breath painfully, her caresses nearly driving him mad. Needing desperately to touch her as she was touching him, his hand fastened on the cotton shift and with one swift motion he pulled it off her. A second later, he had thrown aside his confining robe and with a low growl of satisfaction he jerked her slim body next to his.

  Leonie was still kneeling on the bed and with Morgan standing directly in front of her, their bodies fitted perfectly together from head to thigh. The tight ache of desire that was throbbing in her loins dominated her entire being. She trembled at the exquisite sensation of being held naked against him, her breasts pressed against the soft hair of his chest, and her hips and thighs molded lovingly to Morgan's warm, hard body.

  Her arms hung helplessly at her sides. Morgan's hands held her shoulders as he kissed her again, a long intoxicating kiss that Leonie wanted never to end; she sighed with disappointment when he at last lifted his mouth from hers. Immediately his lips began a fiery exploration of her face and shoulders, as he dropped light passionate kisses on the lids of her eyes, the lobe of her ear and the sensitive area where her neck joined her shoulder. He lingered there a moment, his tongue caressing the silken flesh before his lips dropped to the base of her throat and he gently kissed the spot where her pulse beat madly beneath the skin.

  Teasingly, the feel of his mouth like a soft flame across her flesh, his head dropped lower, and with a sharp stab of pleasure she felt his lips close hungrily around the taut nipple of one breast. Unashamedly she arched her body up against his mouth, further aroused by the way he played with her breast, his teeth gently rubbing across the tip and his tongue warmly curling around the nipple. As his mouth explored first one breast and then the other, Leonie swayed in his hold, wanting to put her arms around him, wanting to touch him, but his hands held her prisoner.

  Leonie's entire body was on fire, her breasts were aching with the tautness of her nipples; her lips were desperate for the touch of his, and her loins throbbed and yearned for his possession. Almost frantically, she pressed herself to his searching mouth, unaware of her own soft moans of pleasure.

  Her small sounds excited him, and he could feel his body responding to her sweet nearness. His breathing quickened and he was aware of an almost painful need to bury himself deep within her, to experience again the overwhelming exultation of making love to her. And yet he held back, denied the urgings of his body, wanting to make her as wild for him as he was for her.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, observing with satisfaction and growing hunger the flush of desire that shaded her high cheekbones, and the passion-dazed expression of her half-closed green eyes. With an effort he moved slightly away from her, allowing himself to savor the sight of her lovely body as she knelt on the bed before him.

  Her small breasts jutted out impudently from her chest, the coral nipples rigid with passion, and Morgan knew that soon he must taste their sweetness again... but not now. Caressingly his eyes dropped to the flat stomach; unable to help himself, he reached out and lightly ran his hand down the smooth expanse of taut, golden flesh, his fingers stopping just above the triangle of tight blond curls.

  At his touch Leonie shivered, the pulse in her throat beating even faster, the tingling sensation between her thighs nearly unbearable. Compelled by her own need to explore him, she lifted the arm he had just freed and lingeringly, wonderingly let her hand drift through the mat of fine black hair on his chest.

  Morgan stiffened at the feel of her small hand against his skin and compulsively his own hand began his own exploration, seeking the delicate area between her thighs, gently penetrating her with his finger. She was so soft, so warm, so desirable that with a groan of impatience his mouth captured hers and he pushed her onto her back.

  They fell together, Morgan half lying on her as he kissed her with all the passion that was surging through his body. Only vaguely aware of the comfort of the bed, he continued to touch and tease the satiny flesh between her legs until Leonie was oblivious to everything but Morgan, his hard mouth on hers, the warmth of his body as he lay next to her and the intense pleasure his hands and mouth were giving her.

  Without restraint she offered herself to him, her arms closing hungrily about his shoulders, her hands transmitting by their frantic movements the excitement and pleasure building within her. All her innate sensuality aroused, she returned his passionate kisses, her tongue a small flick of fire darting into his mouth and driving him insane with the fierce desire to possess her again.

  No words were spoken; each body responded instinctively to the other's passion. The words, the confessions of love they would not say aloud, were clearly revealed in every kiss, every caress they exchanged.

  The bed curtains formed a silken ruby cocoon about them; the flickering candlelight played over their naked bodies, gilding Leonie's fair skin and revealing the bronzed darkness of Morgan's muscled length as they lay together, each one totally absorbed by the other. There was a sinuous grace about their movements, the yearning arching of Leonie's hips, the almost languid way Morgan's head moved as his lips traveled down to her breasts.

  It was a sweet agony not to take her, and as much for her pleasure as his Morgan, deliberately delayed the joining of their bodies, his mouth moving erotically down her ribcage, leaving a path of burning kisses. Her flesh was warm and silken beneath his questing lips and he was drunk with the taste and scent of her as his mouth slid lower across her body.

  Slowly, sensuously, Morgan's tongue traced an exquisitely nerve-shattering path down her stomach, but when he would have gone lower, Leonie's shocked protest stopped him.

  "Ah, monsieur, no!" she cried breathlessly, desperately fighting back the almost overpowering desire to let him do what he would with her. She was thoroughly aroused, every fiber of her being searingly aware of him, every part of her wanting him—and yet she was terrified of the new passions he might evoke.

  Reluctantly Morgan raised his head and looked at her, his eyes nearly black with the passion that flamed through his veins. His voice thick, almost unrecognizable, he muttered, "I want you... all of you, Leonie."

  Leonie gave a frightened shake of her head and with a groan of frustration, Morgan moved away and propping himself up on one elbow, his face only inches above hers, he stared down at her. Hungrily his eyes moved over her features and softly he said, "You're beautiful, cat-eyes, beautiful... everywhere." Gently his hand moved down her stomach and slipped between her t
highs. "Even there," he murmured huskily as he bent to kiss her lips.

  His words were as potent as the caresses he was lavishing on her slender body, but when his head moved lower a few minutes later, Leonie's body stiffened in protest and with a defeated sigh, he stopped her further initiation. A crooked smile curving his mouth he said softly, "Tonight you win, but next time..."

  Her eyes a luminous green in the candlelight, Leonie stared dumbly up at him, her mouth half-parted to argue further, but Morgan bent down and kissed her deeply, one hand tangling in the mass of tawny hair that was spread out across the bed. Like a man with a desperate hunger to satisfy, his tongue filled her mouth as if seeking sustenance from the honeyed warmth he found there.

  Once again, his hand traveled down her body and this time when his fingers explored the silken softness between her thighs, he didn't stop his sensual movements until Leonie was twisting mindlessly under his caresses, small whimpering sounds of pleasure coming from the back of her throat. His own body pushed to the limit, he moved swiftly then, slipping between her legs, his knees nudging apart her thighs. With a low groan of fierce satisfaction he slowly entered her, trembling from the pleasure he experienced as he pushed his swollen, rigid length deeply into her welcoming warm softness.

  They lay there motionless a second, their bodies locked together, Morgan embedded within her; Leonie was dazed at the size of him. He filled her completely, and with a surge of love and pleasure she felt her body stretching to accommodate his exciting intrusion. Hungrily her arms closed around him, her hands feverishly running over the muscled back, down to his hard buttocks, loving the feel of him.

  For Morgan it was an incredibly sweet torture to lie there, feeling her fingers sliding over his skin, but overwhelmingly aware of his throbbing length buried within the tight, silken prison of her flesh, he could not tolerate her unknowingly provocative touches for long and, a second later, he began to move. Wanting desperately to prolong the pleasure, he made love to her gently, his kisses tender as his tongue probed her mouth, even as his body thrust into hers.

  Leonie also wanted this moment to last, didn't want this sweet intimacy to end, but the same demanding dictates that were driving Morgan drove her too. As he continued to move upon her, her hips rose eagerly to meet him and her hands increased their exploration of his body, her fingers small streaks of fire as they moved over his skin.

  The tempo increased, their bodies meeting and parting with a growing wildness and Morgan buried his mouth in her neck, groaning thickly, "Oh, Jesus, Leonie, you're so warm... so sweet. I..."

  Whatever he had been about to say was lost, for Leonie's body quivered and knowing what was happening to her, he was aware that his own body was also reaching the pinnacle of pleasure. Urgently, his movements now nearly frenzied, he drove into her, wanting the release he knew was only a second away.

  Leonie had hardly heard his words, for the tight bubble of exquisite pleasure that had been building within her suddenly exploded into a surge of wild sensation that shook her body. Stunned by the extent of the pleasure that raced through her body, she was only vaguely aware of Morgan's body slamming into hers, of the jump and shudder he gave, as he, too, knew fulfillment.

  Even when the forces that had driven him had lessened, Morgan found it impossible to withdraw from her. Unwilling to leave her, their bodies still entwined, he continued to kiss her gently, his hands tangling in the tawny hair, holding her head still.

  For Leonie it was a bittersweet moment. With the passion he had so unfairly aroused slowly dying, harsh reality began to seep into her thoughts and she was aware of the fact that while she might love him, and that while this had been an act of love for her, she was certain that for him it had been nothing more than a lustful mating.

  She wronged Morgan in thinking that, but she wasn't to know it. Nor was she to know that when he finally eased his body off hers, and gathered her into his arms, that he had finally admitted to himself that he loved her. It was neither an easy nor a pleasant admission, but he was honest enough to realize that every action he had undertaken since Leonie had burst into his life was a result of the fact that she had bewitched him the moment he had laid eyes upon her.

  The knowledge that he had against all reason fallen in love with her was not welcome, and its impact was all the more potent because it came at a time when he was not blinded by desire for her—his body was satiated as it had not been in a long, long time... not since the blissful early days of his marriage to Stephanie.

  Darkly Morgan smiled. It seemed he was destined to love women who practiced deceit as easily as they drew a breath.

  At least, this time, he told himself grimly, I'll be prepared for treachery. Never will another woman deceive me as Stephanie did! Never! Unconsciously his arms tightened around Leonie and his lips sought her in a savage kiss that caught her by surprise.

  Her soft lips parted easily and with none of the tenderness or gentleness he had shown previously, his mouth ravaged hers, almost as if he wanted to hurt her. Leonie stiffened in his arms, her small hands pushing at his shoulders as she tried to twist her lips away from his.

  Fighting him in earnest, deriving no pleasure from this unexpected assault, she managed to free her mouth and snap, "Monsieur! Stop it! I tell you, stop it!"

  Oddly enough it was the word monsieur that banished the ugly mood that had overtaken him, and with a startling shift in temperament, his attractive grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, he asked, "Don't you think, sweetheart, that it's time you stopped calling me monsieur? Monsieur is so formal...." Gently he cupped one breast, his tongue curling teasingly around the small nipple which instantly went rigid. Lifting his dark head, the blue eyes staring into hers, he finished huskily, "And formal we certainly have not been!"

  Leonie blushed at the expression in his eyes, as well as from embarrassment at how effortlessly her body responded to his caresses, and tried to wiggle away from him.

  "Oh, no, you don't," Morgan said mildly, pulling her back into his arms. His lips only inches from hers, he commanded softly, "Say my name, Leonie. Say Morgan."

  Stubbornly, Leonie resisted, needing to keep the word monsieur as some sort of barrier between them.

  "Say it!" he repeated softly, his lips unfairly beginning a trail of fire down her neck. And when she maintained her silence, Morgan laughed gently and his head bent lower, his mouth moving slowly towards her breast, even as his hand deliberately swept down across her stomach.

  Frantically Leonie grabbed at his questing hand and stammered, "M-M-Morgan."

  He liked the sound of his name on her lips, unaccountably pleased at the soft inflection her French accent gave it. Freeing his hand from hers, he continued his provocative exploration of her body and a glint of devilment in the blue eyes, he murmured, "Say, darling Morgan."

  Stormy sea-green eyes glared up into his and Leonie's soft mouth tightened in rebellion. "No!" she got out between clenched teeth, trying to ignore the sensations his warm hand was creating as he gently kneaded her flat stomach.

  Morgan cocked an eyebrow at her. "No?" he asked with feigned astonishment. "Pity. We'll just have to see if I can't change your mind, won't we?"

  Giving her no chance to answer, his mouth caught hers in a long, sweetly punishing kiss, his hand gently caressing her breasts. He'd only meant to tease her further, but the feel of that soft mouth beneath his and the fullness of her breast in his hand was too much for him. With a groan, he deepened the kiss, his hands moving now with an increasingly feverishness over her skin. His mouth against her lips he muttered thickly, "Say it, damn you, say it!"

  The blood rushing madly through her veins, her body already beginning to arch up to meet his seeking hands, Leonie finally capitulated and whispered, half-caressingly, half-angrily, "Darling Morgan."

  But she had waited too long and Morgan, his body aflame to know again the pleasure only she could give him, was no longer in a teasing mood. He needed to take her again and in the moments that followed;
he made love to her with a fierce urgency that left Leonie both fulfilled and shattered. Her mouth felt bruised and her body ached from his hungry possession, and yet, despite the almost violent way he had taken her, there had been an odd sensation of tenderness about his lovemaking.

  There was no conversation between them when Morgan at last withdrew from her body, but his hands were still roaming over her heated flesh, and his mouth pressed a warm path of light kisses from her temple to the corner of her lips. He seemed unable to stop touching her, but the wild emotion that had driven him moments before was gone, and Leonie found herself enjoying far too much this gentle aftermath of his passion.

  She was exhausted, as much from Morgan's lovemaking as the unending struggle with her own emotions, and despite the strong feeling that she should argue with him, that she should berate him for this further breeching of the agreement between them, she discovered that her body was filled with a delicious, almost overpowering languor. To her intense shame, she admitted the only thing she wanted to do at the moment was sleep... sleep with her naked body curled against Morgan's hard form. Which was precisely what she did a few minutes later.

  Sleep did not come as easily to Morgan. For a long time after Leonie's even breathing told him she had fallen asleep, he lay there with her head resting on his shoulder and stared up at the ruby silk canopy. His body was at rest, but his brain was working at a frantic pace, and his thoughts were not pleasant.

  He might have admitted to himself that he had been unwise enough to fall in love with Leonie Saint-Andre, but it was a bitter, bitter admission. Certainly, it gave him no pleasure, and the knowledge that there could very well be a real husband lurking in her background displeased him even more. And there was the question of the future....

  What the hell was he supposed to do now? Fall down on his knees and beg her to love him? To marry him? Morgan snorted. That was goddamned unlikely!

  But what was he going to do? With a less than gentle movement, he shifted Leonie away from him and propping himself up on one elbow he stared down at her sleeping features. How sweet and innocent she looked, he thought. Angrily aware of the wave of tenderness that swept through him as he watched her, he tore his gaze away and left the bed.