Never If Not Now - Madeline Hunter Page 0,28

closer yet, so her breasts pressed against him. He consumed what he could, using his mouth to kiss and bite her jaw and neck before kissing her soft lips again. He pried her mouth open with his tongue, then explored within. She startled a moment before permitting it.

Her arms rose to embrace him. He noticed how she took care not to touch the wound on his arm. Her gesture of acceptance cut the one thread still existing to his conscience. Once his desire tasted the first sign of victory, it ruled him.

If not now, never.

He caressed her breast softly, deliberately, his goal to give her such pleasure that her own conscience went silent. She inhaled with a magical note of wonder at his touch. He continued while her breaths shortened and those notes sounded, again and again, merging into low, quiet cries of joy.

One bird sang as night fell, then quieted. No sounds came from the garden now. He continued caressing her while his other hand worked at the lacing to her gown.

She did not react, if she even noticed. Her own kisses distracted him and slowed his progress. Soon, however, the gown loosened, and he eased it down. More touches through the linen of her chemise, then he lowered that as well.

Some starlight illuminated a bed of ivy near the wall, much like dawn might break the night. He backed up to that green coverlet so he could see her. No kisses now, only careful strokes over the snowy white of her skin while he admired her astonishing beauty.

She looked down at what he was doing. If she denied him, it would be now. He waited but continued pleasuring her with his hand to tilt the scales in his favor.

When she did not stop him, did not object, he laid her down.

Unearthly pleasure. Astonishing sensations. The ivy tickled her cheek but she barely noticed. Zander’s hand raised devilish desire in her, and overwhelming need. She hoped it never stopped but worried she might die if it didn’t.

He lay beside her, his hand moving high and low, down to her belly, then up her legs beneath her skirt. She felt the night air on her legs and breasts. Her mound itched with a strange impatience. So this was what Lady Judith craved. Small wonder.

A thought slid through her euphoria, that Zander had done this with other women. She knew neither jealousy nor suspicion. She was beyond judgements such as that. She only wanted to live in this little world with him, where she smelled that vague sandalwood on his garments and his breath warmed her skin and nothing else, nothing at all, mattered except the profound closeness she felt with his body and soul.

His head dipped. His dark hair feathered against her face. A new pleasure, sharp and insistent, flowed through her. She realized he used his mouth on her breast now. It was the last clear thought she had.

Sensations too amazing to handle piled up then. Licks on her breasts and caresses on her legs. His hand on her mound sent her to the stars. Touches down there, first gentle then less so, brought her close to screaming.

Then he was in her arms, on top of her, his hips settled between her thighs. “I know you are a maid, Elinor. If you do not fight it, it will not hurt much.”

She knew when he started. A fullness pressed, then continued. Her body did rebel, and he paused. She looked above to the stars. He lifted one of her legs over his hip and pressed again. The tear of her maidenhead made her gasp, but after that she only felt that fullness stretching her more and more.

He stopped, his weight resting on his forearms so he did not crush her, his head bent so he could see her face beneath his chest. He dipped his head down and kissed her. The intimacy of this joining, of two bodies made one, overwhelmed her.

“Kiss me again, Zander,” she whispered.

He did while he pulsed inside her. Then he moved, so the joining became a living action. She gripped him tightly. It didn’t hurt much, but it still hurt. Yet his spirit and care and arms surrounded her, and she savored every moment.

When it was done, and he laid atop her, his breaths short and deep, his hair hanging onto her face and his eyes closed, she branded her mind with the beauty of his face in this expression of spent passion, and the