Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,58
would say or do the wrong thing.
Hardane raised one black brow as he took her trembling hand in his. “Not afraid?” he chided gently.
“Perhaps a little,” she admitted.
“Of me?” His voice was hoarse; his eyes were vulnerable.
“No, my wolf. Only afraid my ignorance will displease you.”
A low growl of denial rose in Hardane’s throat as he drew her hard against him and covered her mouth with his.
He had never had a woman except in dreams.
She had never had a man, and yet there was no awkwardness between them.
Gently, he began to undress her, his hands trembling with anticipation as he cast away layer after layer of clothing until she stood before him, more beautiful, more desirable, than he had ever imagined. His fingertips slid over her silken flesh, curious and reverent as he marveled at the unblemished beauty of her skin, the fullness of her breasts, her slender waist and long, shapely legs.
Humbled by her beauty and by the acceptance in her eyes, he made a silent vow that he would never do anything to cause her pain, knowing he would rather die than cause her a moment’s distress. Even now, he could hardly believe that she was here, that she was his. None of his dreams had prepared him for the reality of this moment.
Kylene gazed up at him. “One of us is overly dressed, don’t you think?” she whispered, surprised by her boldness.
“Aye, lady,” Hardane agreed, and sucked in a deep breath as Kylene began to undress him, his whole body aching with need as she removed his shirt.
Kylene felt herself blush as she slid his shirt from his shoulders, reveling in the way he trembled beneath her touch, in the knowledge that he was hers, that from this moment on she could touch him, hold him, kiss him as she had so often yearned to do.
Her fingertips lingered over the width of his shoulders, traced meaningless patterns in the swirls of black hair on his chest. Kneeling, she removed his boots, and then, taking a deep breath, she stood up and began to unfasten his breeches.
At the touch of her hands, he went suddenly still, and she felt a wondrous sense of feminine power and excitement, and then a little stab of apprehension as he stood gloriously naked before her.
Murmuring her name, Hardane swept Kylene into his arms and carried her to the big feather bed. No longer would he sleep alone, tormented by his desire for this woman above all others, plagued by shadowed images that woke him in the night.
He lowered her carefully to the bed, his body covering hers. She was warmth and comfort, the answer to every prayer, every dream he’d ever had. He kissed her and the spark in his loins burst into flame. And now, for the first time, he could let it burn without fear.
Kylene drew Hardane close, closer, delighting in the weight of his body, in the soft sighs of pleasure that escaped his lips as her hands stroked his back and shoulders. He was every desire she’d ever had, every wish come true.
She had been afraid that her untutored hands wouldn’t know how to pleasure him, but she knew now that her fears had been groundless. She seemed to know instinctively how to please him and her heart swelled with love and joy as he murmured her name over and over again.
She gasped as his body became part of hers. Instantly, Hardane withdrew.
“Have I hurt you?” he asked anxiously.
“A little, but . . . but I think it’s to be expected.”
Hardane drew a deep breath, remembering that Jared had once told him that, should he ever be fortunate enough to bed a maiden, the woman would experience a moment of pain, that there would be blood.
Propped on his elbows, Hardane gazed into her eyes, needing her with an intensity that went beyond words.
“Lady,” he whispered, “what shall I do?”
“Whatever you wish, my lord wolf.” And then, knowing he was afraid of causing her pain, she drew him into her arms and kissed him.
The touch of her lips, the restless touch of her hands on his back, drove him over the edge. He kissed her hard as he plunged into her, knowing that nothing short of death could keep him from making her his.
Kylene moaned low in her throat as they became one, and then the brief discomfort was forgotten and she felt not only her own pleasure, but his as well.