by Carol Finch
At least he has been honest, Rozalyn told herself. Unlike Jeffrey who lied through his teeth when he professed to love her instead of Aubrey's money. If she were to give herself to a man, why not to Dominic? He did care for her. Hadn't he said so? Hadn't he apologized for being so blunt in his intentions and hadn't he tried to hold himself at bay, leaving the ultimate decision to her?
After years of searching she had happened upon a strong, fascinating man, who possessed a certain boyish charm, and he had proved to be a delightfully amusing companion.
A drifting shadow caught Rozalyn's attention, and when she realized she was not alone in her boudoir she bolted straight up in bed. It would have been easier to deal with any intruder but the man who stepped from the shadows to peer into her soul with those incredible emerald eyes.
Dominic had managed to remain in the carriage for all of three minutes after Rozalyn had fled to the house. But his vision of her and the jasmine fragrance that remained in the air overwhelmed him. No amount of rationalization could convince him to settle for another woman when he knew it would be Rozalyn's face he would see when he closed his eyes and surrendered to passion. Another woman could relieve him but not satisfy him.
After shedding the jacket that had absorbed her alluring scent, Dominic had ambled aimlessly along the street, letting his thoughts wander where they would. His footsteps had followed the train of his thoughts, and he'd found himself standing beneath her balcony, staring up at the beckoning shaft of light shining from her second-story window. Like a moth fluttering toward the flame, Dominic had scaled the lattice and crossed the balcony until a breathtakingly lovely vision stopped him.
His body had caught fire as he'd watched his enchanting nymph pull the pins from her hair, allowing it to tumble down her back in a waterfall of glistening ebony, and he had groaned inwardly when she'd drawn away the pink silk wrapper, revealing ivory skin and the body of a goddess. The high, thrusting peaks of her breasts had begged for his touch, and her trim waist had seemed so narrow he'd been sure he could wrap his hands around it.
His gaze had drunk in her curving hips and her shapely legs, worshipping the sight of her.
Dominic was burning alive with a fever and Rozalyn was the cause of and cure for his soaring temperature. His pleasure in looking upon her perfect body was so intense it made him ache. He couldn't have turned and walked away, not if his life depended on it. His male instincts had been deprived too often during the course of the day, and he could no longer suppress his primitive urges.
Dominic had not meant to come back; his intentions had been honorable. However, his flesh was weak. Now his eyes drank in a captivating goddess dressed in sheer and revealing blue muslin. His hands and lips craved to touch the body it silhouetted.
"I should not have come back," he murmured, but he came around to the edge of her fourposter bed.
"No, you shouldn't have," Rozalyn agreed.
Her gaze settled on his gaping shirt, taking in the dark matting of hair she had only begun to explore earlier. Her brief investigation had only served to pique her curiosity. Now, in the flickering lantern light, she realized she would never overcome her infatuation for this powerfully built rogue until she proved he was only a man, not some image from an illusive dream.
Dominic sank down on the side of her bed as if he belonged there. His emerald eyes flamed with a hunger only Rozalyn could appease as he reached out to tunnel his fingers through the silky tendrils that cascaded over her shoulder. "I tried to leave you, you know," he whispered huskily. "But I could not bid you adieu so abruptly, not after what happened in the carriage, I need to apologize."
"Apologize for what?" Her brow arched questioningly. She was the one who had scampered off like a frightened rabbit, though she had never been one to run from trouble. In the past she had squared her shoulders and confronted it.
"For doing this . . ." Dominic's head lowered deliberately, his eyes focused on her lips as if they were the first pair he had ever seen.
Rozalyn didn't realize until too late that she had accepted his apology and had also invited him to continue where he had left off a half-hour earlier. The brandy had impeded her thought processes, and it never occurred to her to resist him. Instead of asking herself why she had allowed this bold man to invade her home in a most inappropriate manner, she wrapped her arms about his neck, and drew him with her to the satin sheets.
Lips as soft as summer rain melted beneath Dominic's kiss, and for a long breathless moment he was content just to taste her honeyed response, to inhale the enticing scent that was so much a part of her. But, as before, a kiss was not enough, would never be enough. It only whetted his thirst for this spirited beauty. His hands began to glide to and fro before slipping over her shoulder to cup the full swells of her breasts. Then, with heart-stopping tenderness, his caresses slid beneath the gossamer gown to map the silky curve of her hips.
When his bold caresses ventured along her inner thighs, Rozalyn's breath lodged in her throat, but her traitorous body arched instinctively toward his seeking hands. And when his caresses enfolded her soft mound, Rozalyn swore she had inhaled her last breath. Dominic's lips abandoned hers to grant her air, but it was not enough to sustain her when he again assaulted her with tantalizing kisses. Flames leaped across her flesh in the wake of his moist lips, and a tiny moan bubbled in her chest when he took a throbbing peak into his mouth, suckling, arousing, teasing her until she was mad with wanting him.
He seemed to have an extra pair of hands as he explored the unchartered territory of her body, discovering each sensitive spot, his touch triggering shock waves in her. Rozalyn surrendered to the sensations he aroused. Hers was not to reason why, only to respond to his wondrous caresses and to enjoy the pleasures of love, pleasures she had never before allowed herself to experience. Dominic's practiced hands and warm lips melted her resistance and subtly demanded a response, until Rozalyn felt as if she were drifting on a sea of indescribable rapture. His touch was black magic, leaving her soft and pliant.
While his tongue tasted her flesh and his skillful hands spun her nerves into a tangled web, Rozalyn breathed a ragged sigh. She craved more of this sweet torment, even as she wondered at the emotions erupting from somewhere deep within her. She cried out softly as his probing fingers invaded her womanly softness, but he silenced her cry with his mouth, stealing her breath and then giving it back in a most satisfying way.
He smells so good, so clean, like the outdoors, she thought deliriously as she nuzzled against him. His lips were like soft velvet, his body a warm mass of strength that she longed to feel pressed, full length, against her. As if he sensed her needs, his hard male frame settled over hers, and she felt a gentle pressure as his legs urged her thighs apart. The solid weight of his body blended into hers, and Rozalyn eagerly accepted him, longing to satisfy the compelling urges he had instilled in her.
Then a sharp stab of pain splintered her dreamlike trance, and she instinctively shrank away, choking on her breath. Dominic's arms slid beneath her hips, lifting her to him and then slowly withdrawing before she could protest.
"One moment of pain will lead to timeless moments of splendor. Yield to me, Roz," he murmured breathlessly against the rapid pulsations of her throat. "It is not my want to hurt you. Never that. I only seek to please, to satisfy. ..."
Her body relaxed in response to his coaxing words, though she was not at all certain she believed him. But he did not lie. As he began to move carefully within her the pain ebbed and then blossomed into a strange new kind of pleasure. That sensation grew until it had become yet another exquisite sensation, the one building upon the other, taking her higher and higher still.
His full lips rained a sea of kisses on her bare shoulder as he drove into her, his male body aroused by the feel of her feminine flesh joined intimately to his. Their love-making blocked out all thought, but Dominic could not have recalled other moments that compared with these. He was winging his way toward heaven, an angel in his arms, f
eeling the warmth of each star as they soared past. As he was swept into a dark world of rapturous sensations that played havoc with his sanity, he realized he had sacrificed part of himself when he had dared to introduce this innocent sprite to passion. Yet Dominic was discovering a universe so delightfully fulfilling that he didn't care if he ever charted his way back from this ecstatic journey into eternity.
He felt Rozalyn's nails digging into the taut muscles of his back, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his, and he tasted the hint of brandy on her lips before hee died a slow sweet death as love's pleasures overwhelmed him. Raw emotion swelled in him like a melodious crescendo until Dominic was completely absorbed in the taste and feel of the woman in his arms, driven onward by primal desires that numbed his mind and freed his emotions. His passion flowed like wine, sending streams of rapture in all directions.
Then shuddering tremors claimed him and he toppled from his towering perch. He clutched Rozalyn to him as if he never meant to let her go, couldn't let her go. He could feel her heart beating in wild, frantic rhythm with his as, together, they plunged helplessly through time and space, recalling each wondrous sensation that had gripped them, not yet ready to collide with reality.
When Dominic's powerful body relaxed against hers, tears of ecstasy misted Rozalyn's eyes. His lovemaking had satisfied her craving, but she still longed to touch him as he had touched her, to return the pleasure his hands and mouth had given her quivering flesh. She had not yet known him by touch and feel, and she knew she would never be content until her inquiring hands had sketched the hard, lean terrain of his body.
When Dominic eased down beside her, Rozalyn half-rose to lean on an elbow and her curious gaze ran brazenly over the naked length of him. Her fingertips traced the firm line of his jaw and then trailed down the corded muscles of his neck to circle each male nipple. Then her hand splayed across the crisp, dark hair that covered his laboring chest and she felt a deep rumble of laughter beneath her palm.
Rozalyn's wide innocent eyes swung back to his shadowed face to see a raised eyebrow and a boyish smile.
"My, but you are an inquisitive imp . . . and not easily satisfied," he chortled, his voice still husky with the aftereffects of passion.
A becoming blush stained her cheeks, but her roving hand continued to follow the furring of hair that descended across his lean belly. "Shouldn't I be?" she parried. "After all, I have never been with a man before or dared to touch . . ."
Her explanation was cut short by Dominic's quick intake of breath. Her adventurous hand brushed across his lower abdomen and the sensitive part of his anatomy, making him flinch uncontrollably.
"Did I hurt you?" Rozalyn questioned, concerned. She glanced up and noted his odd expression.
Dominic could not contain the soft laughter that bubbled from his lips. Rozalyn was so naive and innocent that she was delightfully amusing. It was obvious that what she knew about men could easily have been stored in a thimble. She was unlike any other woman he had taken in his arms, for those in his past had taken many passionate journeys and not all of them with him. Rozalyn was inexperienced, but she was quickly learning to become a seductress.
"You were sensitive to my touch," he reminded her. Dominic grinned when a crimson coloring swept over her cheeks. "Men and woman are not so different."
Rozalyn's blue eyes scanned his hair-roughened flesh and hard, muscled thighs. "Men and women are not so different?" she repeated incredulously. From where she sat there seemed to be noticeable differences between them!
"Perhaps you should peek in yonder mirror," she advised. "It would seem you have not looked closely of late. You and I are as different as night and day."
Another tremor of laughter shook his broad shoulders and then died into silence when her inquiring hands trailed lower. Dominic had intended to make a clever rejoinder but Rozalyn's dedicated investigation of his body had ripped the words off the end of his tongue. Her thumb slid over the bulky muscle that enlarged his thigh, then it rose to examine the scar that curled around his ribs.
"Mountain lion or grizzly bear?" she questioned.
"A hungry pack of wolves that intended to make a meal of my horse until I interrupted them," Dominic supplied, although he had to fight to keep his mind on their conversation when her gentle hands were transforming his brain into mush.
"And this one?" Her light caress flowed down to his right hip to another telltale sign of a painful encounter.
"That was a starved panther. He invited me to dinner. Needless to say, I declined," Dominic told her.
Rozalyn giggled at his remark and then allowed her hand to trickle across his left thigh. "And what caused this?"
"A ruthless white man." His voice quivered with long-harbored hatred.
"And how did he fare in the scuffle?" Rozalyn queried curiously.
"You don't want to know."
No, she probably didn't. Rozalyn had witnessed the result when Jeffrey had dared to assault this angered lion of a man with nothing more lethal than his fist. She hated to venture a guess as to the fate of the man who'd attacked Dominic with a dagger.
When Rozalyn's butterfly kisses skimmed across Dominic's chest and then skipped across his ribcage, he lost all interest in conversation. What she is doing to me should have been considered a crime, he mused. She was draining him of his strength and leaving him a quivering mass of desire. Her innocent, inventive techniques were wildly sensuous and Dominic was amazed at how quickly she had aroused him. He had thought his passion completely consumed after he'd made love to this playful sprite, but now it blazed anew, feeding on the embers that smoldered within him, and on memories of moments so wild and sweet they fueled the sparks to flame.
Her tender hands caressed, her soft lips whispered across his quaking skin, exciting him, dragging a moan of torment from his thudding chest, and he allowed Rozalyn to take the initiative when he had granted that privilege to no other. He had always instigated lovemaking in the past and, once his needs were appeased, he left his lover's arms. But tonight he remained in her silken arms, adoring the feel of her caresses, the light touch of the warm feathery kisses that tasted his flesh. Dominic was too immersed in pleasure to consider why he was in no hurry to leave this raven-haired enchantress or why he allowed her to dominate their lovemaking. He could only respond to the exquisite feelings her touch evoked.
Dominic caught his breath when her hand folded about him, stroking him, arousing him until the dancing flames became an inferno of desire. Then her caresses began to roam once again, touching him everywhere until Dominic was engulfed by such fierce, driving needs that he craved to fulfill them before they shattered his sanity. He had meant to be gentle with Rozalyn, but the savage yearnings that compelled him were more than he could bear. Like a great tiger rolling upon all fours, he pressed Rozalyn onto her back and crouched above her, his body taut, his eyes ablaze with desire.
Rozalyn's breath lodged in her throat when she met his tortured gaze. It gave her a warm sense of pleasure to realize that her touch had such a devastating effect on such a powerful man. She welcomed the feel of his lean, muscled length, the sinewed columns of his legs blending into hers; losing herself in the sea of turbulent sensations he created. His male body burned against hers and with the desperation of two lovers reaching for each other from afar, they came together, hungry and impatient to ease the wild yearning that consumed them.
Dominic could not seem to get close enough to the maddening flame that burned him inside and out. He moved against Rozalyn, seeking the ultimate intimacy, instinctively driven toward that one glorious moment of pulsating numbness that blocked out all except sublime pleasure.
Their storm of passion was so intense that Dominic felt like a weightless feather flung high into the churning clouds, whipped and tossed in a tempest so furious that he could not fathom how he could survive it. Savage splendor whirled about him, echoing like the crashing roll of thunder, and just at the moment when he swore his very soul would split asunde
r from the overwhelming sensations swirling within him, he found sweet, satisfying release.
Then, from the depths of the dark, rolling clouds of passion, came shards of golden light, illuminating the bright, shining moments that transcended reality. His soul touched the pure essence just beyond his reach, and then every part of his being vibrated. He was soaring on pinioned wings, unsure whether he had forfeited his life or been caught up in some fantastic dream.
Rozalyn was suffering from the same feeling of disorientation. She could not seem to sort reality from the blinding rays of light that sparkled before her eyes, and strange sensations splintered through her. Somewhere beyond rational thought, she dangled in the timeless universe of emotion. And then, ever so slowly, she seemed to fall through space, to come gently to rest on a puffy cloud.
A soft, shuddering sigh tumbled from her lips, and her eyes fluttered open to see the shadowed face only inches above hers. The contented smile that rippled across her lips faded when Dominic dropped a feathery kiss to the sensuous curve of her mouth.
No words were spoken. Their fulfillment was silently communicated. And, in that moment of tranquility, Rozalyn realized that she was staring love in the face.
It cannot be, Rozalyn lectured herself. It is the aftereffect of passion that provokes such thoughts. She decided when she had the opportunity to sit back and contemplate these moments she would realize that Dominic was just a man, not the man of her dreams.
As Rozalyn's heavy eyelids fluttered down to rest against her cheeks and she surrendered to sleep, Dominic quietly inched away from her to don his clothes. But his eyes lingered on her shapely contours, bathed in moonlight, and he again longed to caress the feel of her silky skin. Fighting the battle of self-conquest, Dominic bent over Rozalyn to draw the sheet around her bare shoulders.
She stirred slightly and then moved toward the pillow that had cradled Dominic's head, her senses still filled with the fresh, clean scent of him. Even in sleep she found herself in his sinewy arms, yielding to the pleasures of passion, soaring like an eagle in a cloudless sky, drifting . . . diving . . . spiraling.