Reckless - By Anne Stuart Page 0,42

should you...?"

"If what you're struggling to ask is how would I achieve the same blissful state I just accorded you, let me assure you there are any number of ways you can take me that would leave your maidenhead intact." His smile was wicked. "Some variations I'm extremely fond of."

A stray shiver danced across her body, and she realized he still had his long fingers inside her, and his thumb was gently rubbing what he'd been licking earlier.

"It's called a clitoris, angel," he said out of the blue.

“What?"

“That part of you that’s so exquisitely sensitive to my mouth and my thumb. I gather you've lived too sheltered a life to discover it for yourself, which is a shame. Self-pleasure is a lovely way to spend a solitary afternoon if an agreeable partner is not available." For emphasis he flicked his thumb harder against her, and she jerked, fighting the hot, liquid rush.

She didn't want to make a sound, but she couldn't help it. The low, guttural moan betrayed her, half of pleasure, half of need.

"So tell me, sweet Charlotte," he murmured. "Where do you want me to put my cock?"

She struggled to come up with something suitable. "A mousetrap," she muttered. "A guillotine."

"Ouch," he said, not sounding particularly distressed. "I'm afraid your bloodthirsty suggestions don't have any effect on me."

"It probably—" flick went his thumb "—made you even more—" flick, flick"—excited." The last word dissolved into little more than a moan.

"I'm not that perverse, love. Tell me what you want." He'd moved partly up her body, his hand, his fingers, his thumb still riding her to distraction. "Or shall I make the decision for you? The kind thing, the honorable thing would be to take my pleasure and leave your virginity intact." He smiled at her with a peculiar sweetness. "But you and I both know that's not going to happen. I'm going to lake you, Miss Charlotte Spenser, any way I want to. I'm going to lose myself in your delicious body, and when it's over you can go on about your life and pretend it never happened. Or you can try. Say yes, Charlotte."

"And if I say no?"

He was wicked and unabashed. "I'll probably ignore you.”

“Yes, then," she said, an edge of wildness in her voice. She would have him, her golden fantasy lover, and nothing and no one would ever take it away from her. "Yes," she said again. "Yes, I want you."

His smile was small, almost smug. "Then let's get rid of that damned virginity, shall we?"

Before she could guess what he had in mind he put another of his long fingers inside her, thrusting hard, and she felt a sudden sharp pain, a tearing inside her, and she let out a muffled shriek.

Her eyes filled with involuntary tears, but before she could blink them away he'd moved up, over her, his narrow hips between her spread legs. He'd unfastened his breeches at some point, she hadn't noticed when, and she was glad of it. She didn't particularly want to see it, touch it. She just wanted him to make love to her. Let her lie there and feel something other than the stinging pain between her legs.

She waited, bracing herself for the final act, the thrust, the coup de grace. She could feel him now, smooth and hard against the opening of her sex, and she tensed, prepared for more pain.

He didn't move. He held himself above her, staring down at her, and all amusement had fled from his face. His blond hair fell forward, across his forehead, and there was a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded finally, moving restlessly on the soft bed.

"I'm hoping one last burst of sanity will stop

She held her breath. Part of her still wanted to escape, and if he released her she'd run to safety.

Broken, weeping, but she'd run anyway. Self-preservation was bred deep into her bones, and she was on the edge of total disaster. Willingly.

And then a faint, self-deprecating smile flitted across his shadowed face. "But my cousin assures me that sanity is greatly overrated. Tell me no one more time and maybe I'll listen."

This is what she'd wanted. He would let her go, and even if he'd broken through her virginity she could still retain some semblance of innocence. After all, no one would ever be near that area of her body to find out otherwise, never again.

Her arms were still trapped by the monk's robe.

"Release my arms” she said