me. At the same time, I craved her attention, dreamt of her in my arms, in my bed. If I did not control myself, she could become a distraction I did not need.
“We have no money, Gabriel. Your father has debt even I was unaware of. You must marry Miranda,” my mother’s words whispered through my mind over and over.
Then Ginny touched me…sliding her delicate hands down my back, and all thoughts and worries vanished. While her lovely, soft mouth boldly molded to mine, I slid my hands to her shoulders, brushing off her robe. The material whispered down her body. With trembling fingers, I cupped her breasts. Soft, lovely mounds that fit perfectly in my palms.
The little mewing sounds she made drove me to distraction. Whether she realized it or not, she needed me. Needed the life of luxury I could offer. The safety. The pleasure. She was not made for a life of dreariness, life of pain.
Her nipples pressed to the thin fabric of her nightgown, tight buds, ripe and ready to be sucked. She was a seductress, a temptation I could not deny. Didn’t want to deny. Hell, I wanted to make her mine.
It was an unrealistic and entirely ridiculous thought, but it was there. I wanted to own her, and I wanted her to own a piece of me…the most desperate and darkest part of me. Warning bells rang through my mind. We were treading dangerously close to the point where we would scar each other for life, yet I couldn’t seem to care.
With a groan, I trailed my hands from her breasts, down to her silky thighs. When I’d entered the library, exhausted from another dreary and depressing evening with my parents, I thought I’d imagined her lounging in front of the fireplace like a damn offering. She’d looked so bloody innocent. Whether someone had taken her maidenhood or not, it was obvious she had never known true passion. Never realized the power she held, how she could control a man with a smile, a touch.
I wanted to go slowly, to savor every moment. But the heat rushing through my blood, urging me to take her, had other plans. My fingers brushed the soft curls shielding her femininity. She gasped, arching her back. Hell, she was eager. So damn eager. Her fingernails bit through the material of my shirt and into my back, almost painfully erotic.
“Gabe, please, I don’t know…”
I slid my finger between her damp folds. Lord, she was ready. So sleek, so wet, so hot. She burned for release. As my finger slid between her wet folds, I brushed my thumb against that sensitive nub. She groaned, her hands moving down my back, toward my arse. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I’d spent my entire life learning to control my emotions, my desires. With a caress from her, hell, even a glance, and I was ready to throw aside everything I’d accomplished. I wanted to brand her with my touch, my scent. To claim her so that hence forth every man would know to whom she belonged. There was a desperation behind my seduction that surprised even me.
“Has no one ever kissed you?” I asked.
“Yes, of course, but I didn’t want them to.”
She wanted me to kiss her. Me. Only me. “Tell me who they were, I’ll have them hanged.”
She released a breathy laugh as she squirmed underneath me, her thighs brushing my erection. I bit back my groan. I rubbed my thumb over the nub between her folds. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, her eyes growing hazy with desire. I lowered my head, taking a hard nipple through her nightgown.
“Oh, that feels so very good.”
“And did anyone ever touch you like this?” I slid my finger down between her silky, wet folds until I found her tight sheath. Slowly, ever so slowly, I entered her passage. My cock grew tight, throbbing. I wanted to be in her completely, fully. Wanted to find my release between her soft thighs. “Make you desperate?”
“No,” she gasped. “Never.”
She was soft. So damn soft.
I wanted this to last for as long as possible, yet my body strained, desperate for release. For days I’d been forced to deal with lurid thoughts clouding my mind. Dreams of having her had tormented my nights, torturing me. I slid my finger from her body and gripped her dressing gown. With a deft tug I pulled the thin material over her head.