Flame of Fury

by Sharon Green

  "The first thing we're going to do is take off your robe," he said when he released her hand. "Since I've already seen you without any clothing at all, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

  Rianne watched as his big hands went to the ribbons on her robe, opening the bows one at a time. She'd been about to say that she wasn't embarrassed, but that wasn't strictly true. For some reason being entirely naked with Angus and Cam was easier than being scantily clad with this man, and that in spite of his having given his word. Maybe it was because he was so different…

  "How beautiful you are," he breathed as he slid the robe down her arms and let it fall to the floor. "Knowing you're my wife makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world."

  She looked up at him to see if he was teasing again, but his eyes moved over her breasts and belly and thighs, the sheer silk and lace of the gown enhancing the soft curves of her body rather than hiding them. His expression suggested he might not know he'd said anything at all, and then his arm was around her waist.

  "Let's sit down," he said, drawing her back with him toward a wide, thickly upholstered chair. "This will probably take a while, so we might as well get comfortable."

  Rianne started to say, "But that chair won't hold the both of - " when she was startled into cutting the sentence short. The man had put himself in the chair, but at the same time had lifted her into his lap. That way their faces were just about on the same level, which meant she had no trouble seeing his smile.

  "You were saying?" he inquired mildly, his left arm still around her waist. "If we were in two separate chairs I could look at you, but touching would be somewhat difficult. And you did say you weren't worried about your self-control when close to me."

  "That's exactly what I said," she returned with a smile that hopefully matched his. The words were completely true, of course, since she wasn't worried. But as far as other feelings went… Was there any reason to mention what even she didn't understand?

  "Good," he approved with a wider smile. "Now I can start looking at you in the right way."

  She expected his gaze to drop to her body, but those gray eyes kept staring at her face. They moved down very slowly to her neck and shoulders, then worked their way up again.

  "Would you like to tell me what you're doing?" she asked after a moment, tired of being confused. "If this is a joke, you should be able to see I'm not laughing."

  "I'm enjoying the way the angle of your face draws my eyes down to the softness of your throat and the slender grace of your shoulders," he answered with distraction, and then his right hand came to touch her cheek with nothing more than fingertips. "Don't you know how marvelous it all looks, especially framed by that magnificent hair? Or did you think a man gave his attention to nothing but his wife's breasts?"

  "You mean I was imagining your interest in my breasts earlier today?" she countered immediately, stung by his very superior explanation. "Maybe I was light-headed from lack of food and dreamed it."

  "I never said I wasn't interested in your breasts," he corrected, sounding as though he were instructing a child. "I said I wasn't interested in nothing but your breasts, which is an entirely different thing. I saw enough this afternoon to know what I need to about them, including the fact that I won't even have to touch them to harden their nipples. Having learned that, I can wait before trying to discover more."

  "That's ridiculous," Rianne said very flatly, ignoring the warmth that had flooded her cheeks. "I know better than to believe you could do something like that without touching me, and I resent the fact that you think I'm too innocent to notice. You can't - "

  "Stop right there!" he ordered with a growl, the look in those gray eyes no longer distracted. "What I said happens to be the truth, and I won't have you accusing me of lying. If you doubted me you could have offered to bet on the point, but you have no right - "

  "All right, then let's bet on it," she jumped in at once, determined not to let him get away with scolding her for catching him in a lie. "If you're all that sure of yourself, you won't worry about losing."

  "I am that sure," he agreed with a thoughtful nod. "All right, I accept your bet, but let's get straight exactly what it is we're betting on. I say I can make your nipples harden without touching your breasts, and you say I can't. If I prove you don't know as much as you think you do, you have to pay me."

  "How much?" she asked, suddenly remembering she'd brought no money with her. "If I lose I'll have to stop back at my house to get it, but - "

  "This is your house now," he corrected with weary patience, then gestured the point aside. "It isn't money I'll be asking for, little one. If I win our bet, you'll pay up by making an effort to kiss me back when I kiss you. No drawing away, no purposeful lack of response, just an honest effort."

  "And if I win?" she asked, suddenly as ready to take advantage of him as he thought he was taking of her. "If I prove you've been indulging in the telling of tall tales, you'll leave this apartment immediately. No arguments, no calling it unfair, you'll simply leave and not come back. Is it still a bet?"

  "You're a hard woman," he said with a small shake of his head, and then he grinned faintly. "But you're definitely on. Just remember that any attempt to stop what I'm doing to you will be considered an admission of defeat."

  Rianne nodded warily. Though certain that the beast could never win, there was something disquieting in his confidence.

  "Here we go," he said with amusement, and then Rianne felt just as amused. He'd taken her right arm and had begun kissing her hand, just the way it had been done countless numbers of times by countless, faceless men. She was so used to having her hand kissed that she no longer even noticed it, let alone felt anything from it. Of course, the brute's kisses were slower and more lingering than the ones she was used to, but they still -

  Rianne almost gasped and pulled her hand back when he turned it over and began slowly kissing her palm, but that was only due to surprise. No one had ever kissed her palm before, and they certainly hadn't tickled it gently with their tongue as they slowly trailed the kisses all around. She realized he was making her very uncomfortable, but it wasn't anything she couldn't stand.

  Not even when the slow, teasing kisses began to rise up her arm. The inside of her wrist twitched to the tickling of his tongue, and when he began to move up her forearm she had to exert conscious control. The sensation was unbelievably strange, an overly intimate exploration of the tender skin of a part of her that shouldn't be intimate at all. She'd had her arm touched a thousand times, but it hadn't been kissed and it hadn't been licked. Rianne shifted slightly where she sat on her husband's lap, wondering why his thumb was keeping her hand from closing into a fist. He'd brought his left arm from her waist to support her arm at the elbow, and he slowly made his way higher and higher.

  By the time his lips reached the inside of her elbow, Rianne had closed her eyes. For some reason it upset her to watch his patient upward progress; feeling it was bad enough, especially when his fingers began caressing the underside of her arm. She wanted desperately to shiver and pull away, ending the sensations that were trying to drown her, but then she would lose the bet. If she hung on she might still win, and then could have privacy in which to pull herself together.

  "Your hand can stop crushing my knee now," his voice came in a murmur that was perfectly fitting. "The taste of you is delicious, and you've lost the bet."

  She would have preferred to call him a liar again, but it wasn't necessary to look down to know he had told the truth. Her nipples were hard and stiff against the lace of her nightgown, a condition she'd been trying to deny the awareness of. It still seemed incredible to accept, but he'd done it without touching her breasts even once.

  "And you won't even have to admit in words that you were wrong," he said, that deep voice faintly husky. "All you have to do is start paying up on what you owe."

  His right hand came to her chin and tilted her face up, and then the lips that had investigated her arm were settlin
g in a new location. His kiss was still as gentle as it had been, but there was now a demand behind it that she wasn't permitted to deny. She had to kiss him back, or renege on what she owed.

  And, strangely enough, it wasn't all that terrible. For some reason she felt as though she wanted to kiss him, a feeling she had never had with any other man in her life. His lips felt odd, both soft and hard at the same time, and his tongue flickered out to taste her as though there were no reason why it shouldn't. Both of her hands were against his dressing gown, one on his chest, the other on his arm. His left arm encircled her and held her close with that giant's strength which brought no pain.

  "Oh!" she gasped, pulling her face away from his. Without her noticing, his right hand had moved aside the lace covering her left breast. His fingers had begun toying with the nipple he'd made so hard, and the sensation had flashed through her body like a flare of sunlight in darkness.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, now stroking the side of her breast. "I'm just touching you the way you said I could. Are you finished already with paying your debt? I know most women will back out after no more than a token payment, but somehow I thought you were different."

  His accusation distracted her from what she'd been about to say, and then his lips were on hers again, demanding the rest of what was his. She met his kiss and returned it the way she was supposed to, but couldn't quite remember what she'd wanted to tell him. Something about the way he was touching her, the way he was stroking her nipple with his thumb. The feel of it was dissolving the glue holding her bones in place, but she couldn't think of a way to explain that in words he would understand.

  He had made her part her lips and was tasting her tongue with his own when she nearly choked, trying to cry out at the touch of his hand in the new place it had found. She needed to end the kiss to speak, but wasn't able to move her face away from his. Her head was leaning back against one thickly muscled arm that held it in place, and he hadn't seemed to notice her reaction.

  But she'd noticed! The skirt of her gown had been lifted to her knees, and the hand that had been on her breast was now between her thighs. Her left hand flew down in an effort to push his away, but it was like pushing at the walls of a house. His fingers continued to stroke and caress her in the most sensitive place she had, and then he made a sound of pleasure deep in his throat. He must have thought she was encouraging him to touch her there, but she wasn't, she wasn't!

  Rianne moaned as she felt the strength drain out of her body, turning her into a helpless mass of squirming desperation. His lips were devouring her mouth as his tongue fenced hers down, and the hand between her thighs was driving her insane. All teasing arousal it was, a demand for response she couldn't refuse, and the longer it went on the worse it became. She whimpered as he touched her everywhere but where she needed to be touched, and he chuckled at what he undoubtedly thought was a sound of pleasure. Her hands were claws closed convulsively on his dressing gown, but he hummed to her and idly increased her insanity.

  It was almost too late when she finally freed her face from his. Her ears were filled with the sound of her racing pulse and she was just short of being unbearably dizzy, but she was still able to force out the single word: "Stop!"

  "Stop what?" he asked, touching his lips to the side of her face and her throat. His fingers continued to stroke her in a way that made her wish she could get up and run.

  "Stop … touching … me," Rianne croaked, nearly closing her eyes. "I can't … stand … any more."

  "You should have told me sooner that I was hurting you, little one," he murmured, his hand finally moving to take a gentle grip on her thigh. "Was I hurting you?"

  "No," she whispered, needing to speak the truth. What he'd done was worse than pain, but he hadn't hurt her. She waited for the blessed relief she expected now that his hand was gone from her, but for some reason it wasn't coming. The burning itch still raged between her thighs, and her blood still felt as though it were on fire.

  "What's wrong?" he asked as she moaned and tossed her head back and forth against his arm. His hand was now stroking her thigh, and even that small a thing was more than she could bear.

  "You have to stop touching me altogether," she whispered, not caring how ragged the words were. "I need some time to - pull myself together, so you'll have to stop."

  "Anything you say, little one," he answered. "My stopping won't do what you expect it to, but I promised to abide by your wishes and I will."

  "What do you mean?" she asked, looking up into his face. She had noticed before how handsome he was, but now there was something more there than just good looks. His face was broad with the planes of masculine beauty, cleanly shaven and smooth to the touch. Her fingers went to that face, touching it lightly, searching for - she didn't know what. The gray of his eyes was the color of dominance, sure with the knowledge that everything about him was his. The strong brows above those eyes were dark with the same red that made up his hair, the black-red mane that suited him so well. Rianne discovered that she wanted to bury her hands in that mane, but didn't understand why.

  "What I mean is that my not touching you won't bring an end to your arousal," he said, his voice very soft and sure. "I was hoping you would enjoy the way I touched and kissed you, but now I can see it went far beyond that. You're completely aroused, little one, and if something isn't done it can only get worse."

  "No, that isn't true!" she whispered, wanting to disbelieve him but finding it impossible. Every nerve in her body was screaming for the relief that hadn't come, and it did seem to be getting worse. And he'd already proven he knew what he was talking about when it came to her body! What was she going to do?

  "I think you know it is true," he said, his hand now stroking her hair. "There's only one thing to be done, but that's a decision you'll have to make. I gave my word not to make it for you."

  Rianne closed her eyes again in misery, but that did more harm than good. Even his touch to her hair was driving her wild. She felt a small, odd thrill when she realized she couldn't go on like this.

  "All - right," she conceded with difficulty. "The decision is mine, and I've made it. I - want you to do something about what I'm feeling."

  "I'm sorry, sweet girl, but I'm afraid that won't do it," he said, and she opened her eyes to see those icy gray eyes staring unblinkingly at her. "If this was some tawdry affair I'd accept being invited like that, but you're my wife and this is our wedding night. I want to be invited with tender passion, and I want to hear the proper words."

  Rianne searched the eyes looking down at her for signs of teasing but there weren't any. He was perfectly serious about what he'd demanded, and would not ease her torment without getting it. Her temper flared without reason, or maybe it was the knowledge that she had to do things his way that enraged her. He was being ridiculously formal at such a stupid time, and before she knew it she was trying to beat at him with her fists. She was absolutely furious, but he refused to accept that. Those giant arms closed more tightly around her, and then her lips were again in his capture.

  And what a capture! His kiss immediately began to devour her but she was already responding, trying to devour him in turn as her tongue lured his into her mouth. Her hands had risen and turned to fists in his hair, holding him more tightly than the fist he had in her hair. And his other hand! Rianne moaned as it slid up the outer side of her thigh, rising under her gown skirt to reach her hip before sliding around to her buttocks. She shivered at the exquisite gentleness of his touch, burning for more that wasn't gentle. She wanted all of his strength, needed the easing he could give, and was now beyond worrying about how much of a fool the asking would make of her.

  "I've got to have you," she panted around his kisses, able to speak only because he allowed it. "I want you to make love to me, to take me and finish what you started. If you refuse me now, you aren't human."

  "You have no idea just how human I am," he murmured back. "But you'll soon be finding out, and it's about time. Come to you
r husband's bed, wife, and learn to know the man you belong to."

  He pulled her head back by the hair and slowly licked each of her nipples in turn, then finally consented to leave the chair. Holding her in his arms he moved toward the bed, dropping light kisses on her face as he went. Rianne knew she would die if he didn't hurry, but tightening her arms around his neck didn't increase his speed. It took forever until they got there, and then he bent to put her down.

  "All freshly made and already turned down," he said with a smile. "Do you think someone knew we'd be using it this quickly?"

  He chuckled and then his hands went to the belt of his dressing gown, untying and opening it. Rianne's eyes widened as he shrugged out of the covering and let it fall to the floor, leaving him even more naked than she was. Seeing him clothed, even in just a shirt and breeches, hadn't prepared her, and she couldn't imagine what would have.

  He really was a giant, with shoulders twice the size of Angus's and Cam's, and arms thick with corded muscle. His chest was covered with reddish dark hair over the deep tan of his skin, and his waist was trim above flat hips that couldn't possibly be called slender. Below that - below that was his desire, the hard knot Rianne had felt but not noticed while she writhed in his lap. It was a lance rather than an arrow, a tree limb rather than a branch; even as she realized she'd never seen anything like it, it came to her that that was what she'd demanded of him.

  "Don't worry, sweet one, I would never hurt you," he murmured, obviously aware of what bothered her. "You have my word that you won't be given more than you're able and willing to accept. If you find acceptance beyond you, you need only say so… "

  He let the sentence trail off as he climbed over Rianne and onto the bed, but he didn't have to finish it. Her body was already flaring again from his nearness. She wanted him no matter how big he was, and if he killed her at least she would die after having been satisfied.

  She parted her lips to tell him that, but his own lips stopped the words even before they started. His kiss was growing more and more intense and ever more demanding, and she found she couldn't refuse to join him. Vague feelings of worry became wild response to his passion, and in an instant she was lost again.