Need. That was it.
If he sank to his knees and worshipped her breasts, it wouldn’t have been any more compelling. He cupped them in his big palms and moved from one to the other, kissing, licking, sucking. The band of warm light grew stronger, more powerful, until her toes curled and she trembled from head to foot.
“Max,” she breathed. “I… I need…”
“What, sweetheart?” he murmured against her nipple. The vibrations of his voice against her made her arch her back up until he’d captured the hardened nub between his lips. “What do you need?”
“I… don’t know. I need…”
She gasped as he tugged lightly on her nipple. “I need something, but I haven’t the faintest idea what it is.”
He left her breast and in the next moment he’d pressed himself between her legs. His mouth rested at the top of her most private part. She gasped, her legs stiffening, her hands automatically reaching down to hide the area from his gaze. From his lips.
He kissed her fingers, gently nuzzling them away. “I want to taste you, Olivia. Let me.”
“You mean…?” Raising herself on her elbows, she stared at him in complete shock. Was this part of carnal relations? How could it be that no one had told her? How could it be that she’d never even imagined such a thing?
“Will… you like doing that?” she breathed.
He looked up at her, his green gaze sparkling and positively sinful. “I’ll enjoy every moment. I promise.”
“But… will I enjoy it?”
He nodded soberly. “I think you’ll enjoy it very much. If it doesn’t give you pleasure, all you need to do is tell me to stop. All right?”
“All right.” Her voice sounded very small. She lay back, closed her eyes, and forced her hand to slide away. Her body still hummed with the effects of his ministrations on her breasts. She was tense and warm and nervous and excited—she felt like a compact bundle of tightly contained energy on the verge of exploding into a million pieces.
He pressed kisses down until he was fully settled between her legs. But she hardly knew—or cared—where he’d settled. She grabbed handfuls of the covers and ground her teeth so she wouldn’t cry out from the pleasure of his lips and his tongue moving over the most wickedly sensitive part of her body.
“Oh,” she murmured. “Oh. My. Goodness.”
Then she couldn’t even speak. For many minutes, the heat filtering through her sped up and flushed through her until her every nerve buzzed. And suddenly, sensation poured through her, so intense and so overwhelming, she couldn’t move, couldn’t vocalize a cry. Her body undulated under Max’s hands and mouth as the fiercest pleasure Olivia had ever known swept through her.
She came back to awareness for moments at a time, each one stretching longer until she could take a breath. Then she shuddered, suddenly cold. Max was instantly over her, his warm body covering hers.
“You came,” he murmured.
“Did I? Was that what that was? An… orgasm?”
“You tell me.” His body was sliding against hers, the long length of him rigid against her thigh.
“Yes,” she breathed weakly. “I think it was.” Serena had told her about orgasms once, back in Antigua what seemed like eons ago.
He smiled down at her.
“You look quite self-satisfied,” she murmured.
“I am.”
His smile faltered, and she saw that he was gritting his teeth. “Is something wrong?”
“Very,” he said quietly, shifting ever so subtly so she could feel the hard ridge moving against her skin. “I need you now, Olivia.”
She released the bedcovers she’d been clutching and slipped her arms around him. “Then let me give you what you need.”
He reached down and adjusted himself between her legs. She looked into his face, into his eyes. Feelings flooded through her: trust, admiration, respect… love. She wanted him. Wanted this.
He gazed back at her, his crystalline green gaze boring into her with intensity that sent bright little tingles beneath her skin.
He held himself there at her opening. On the verge of something monumental. Life-changing. She could feel his need for her—his body vibrated with it. Yet he hesitated.
“This will hurt you,” he whispered.
She arched her body, welcoming him inside. “I don’t care.”
Slowly, he pushed into her. At first, it didn’t hurt at all. She felt utterly, wickedly stretched, but it didn’t pain her. And then pressure built until it seemed impossible he could continue on, but his progress, though slow and steady, didn’t falter.
Then the pain came on the heels of the pressure. Olivia gritted her teeth. He wasn’t breaking her, wasn’t tearing her apart. This was a natural thing, to lose one’s virginity. It would change her permanently, but it surely wouldn’t do permanent damage.
And then he sank deep, breaching her fully, and she tried to stifle a whimper. There was more than just the pain—far more. There was pleasure, too. The feeling of being filled, of her sensitive tissues being stroked in a way they’d never been touched before. The feeling of Max, all around her, gentle and yet so masculine. She wanted him to move again. She wanted to feel the press of him inside her. She wanted… more.
He groaned softly. “I’ve hurt you.”
She didn’t want to lie to him. She didn’t want to describe the pain, either. Although her orgasm had taken away the sharp edge of her longing, it was still there, lush and warm, and so she said the only thing she could: “Don’t stop, Max. Please, don’t stop.”
He released a relieved breath and moved tentatively inside her, tilting his head as if to ask her permission to continue.
“It’s better now,” she murmured, and it was the truth. The pain was still there, but the other sensations were beginning to dwarf it—the sensations of a man inside her. Max inside her, stroking her in her most intimate place, and all through her. He seemed to touch every part of her from the top of her head to her toes, including her heart. And her soul.
His eyes glittered as he looked down at her, as pleasure washed through his expression.
“So sweet,” he murmured. “So tight.”
His thrusts quickened until the velvet slide of his body through hers made her gasp—not with pain but with pleasure.
His movements became stronger, more forceful. His tension became a palpable thing, his body all taut muscle beneath her hands. Strength. Power.
His arm muscles flexed and tightened on either side of her, and he seemed to grow inside her. She was surrounded, encompassed by his masculinity, by his virility.
He rocked harder over her, faster, and then every one of his muscles tightened impossibly, and he jerked out of her, gathered her in his arms, and rolled to his side, holding her tight against him.
He groaned low in his throat, and she felt the warm damp of his release against her thigh. Wave after wave rocked his body until he shuddered and relaxed deep into the bed, keeping her locked against him.
“Beautiful Olivia,” he murmured. “So sweet. So damn beautiful.”
He sounded half asleep, but he also sounded happy. She knew she’d just pleased him greatly. And that simple fact made her happy.
With pleasure and contentment rippling through her, she drifted off to sleep.
Max awoke with a jolt. The pale gray light of early dawn had just begun to filter through the curtains. The heaviness against him shifted, and he looked down at Olivia.
His chest clenched. She was pressed up so tightly against him, he couldn’t see much beyond her delicate profile and the red-gold hair that fanned out over the sheet.
So beautiful.
She’d given him the precious gift of her virginity last night. He didn’t know why she’d chosen him to be the recipient of that gift, but he was damned thankful for it. And he wouldn’t forget it.
He moved a strand of hair away from her face, and with great reluctance, he murmured, “Olivia?”
“Mmm.”
<
br /> She snuggled more tightly against him, and within a moment she sighed deeply, asleep again.
“Olivia, sweetheart. It’s almost morning.”
After a long pause, he heard a murmured, “Noooo…”
“I know.”
She slipped her arm around him and looked up at him, blinking sleepy blue eyes at him. “I like sleeping with you so much. It’s so warm and comfortable.”
“I like sleeping with you, too.”
She rolled her shoulders, stretching, then glanced in the direction of the window. “I should be rushing out of here, terrified that someone might catch us. But do you know what? I feel like one minute longer with you would be worth it.”
“Mmm. Me too.” He bent toward her, inhaling the fresh smell of her hair.
She sighed, long and low. “But that’s selfish, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so.”
“My family would be mortified. And furious with you.”
He chuckled. “I thought you’d told them your intentions.” That thought was deuced uncomfortable. He’d never had a brother or sister, so he could only imagine the potential intimacy between siblings. He’d never thought a sibling relationship could be that close, though.
“Only Meg. And even she wouldn’t approve of me flagrantly revealing the fact that I’ve spent the night in your bed in her house.”
He shrugged. “I have no hope of ever understanding her point of view.” If Olivia was his sister, and she’d spent the night with a man—
Well, that thought was far, far too disturbing. He flung it away.
Olivia rose, clutching the sheet to her chest. She caught his gaze lingering there, probably caught the wicked glint in his eye, because she laughed softly.
He raised his hand and stroked a finger down her cheek. “Are you sore from last night?”
She looked at him through her lashes with a shy expression that squeezed his heart. “A little.”
He sat up, hooked his hand around the back of her neck, and drew her face toward his for a soft kiss before he pulled away, allowing her to decide whether to stay or go.
She looked straight at him, her blue eyes clear. Then she glanced down to his lap and back into his eyes again. She bit her lip, then let it roll under her teeth before she spoke. “Do you think… Can we do it again before I go?”
Max hadn’t expected that—at all. He sucked in a harsh breath, because her words had an instantaneous effect on his body. His cock, which was already hard, pulsed. His skin prickled, his body recalling his release last night.
He’d been so enthralled by the experience of bedding Olivia Donovan that he’d almost forgotten his promise to do whatever he could to prevent conception. He’d managed to tear himself away from her at the last possible moment, but doing so had nearly killed him.
“I’d like that,” he said solemnly. “More than anything in this world.” Yes, he needed one more taste of her. One more time.
She lay back and raised her arms to him, welcoming. Gently, he moved one of her hands downward, until her fingers skimmed his cock.
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Wrap your hand around it,” he said gruffly.
The touch of her cool fingers, so hesitant as they curled around him, was excruciating pleasure while at the same time an excruciating tease.
Gritting his teeth, Max guided her hand through the motion that mimicked the glide that his cock had made last night when stroking through her body. She concentrated hard, staring at her work, though she could only see the shape of him in her hand beneath the covers.
She glanced up at his face and tightened her fingers over him as she slid her hand downward. “Oh,” she murmured, “you liked that.”
“I did,” he agreed without opening his clenched teeth.
Squeezing him tightly, she pulled back upward, this time swiping her thumb over the crown as she reached the top, watching his expression intently as she did so.
He lay on his side and allowed her to torture him with pleasure for a few more moments. She stroked him up and down, learning from the expressions on his face and the small noises he made what he liked most.
Hell… she was a fast learner. He was going to burst if she kept this up.
“I want to see,” she said softly.
He opened his eyes and met her blue gaze. “You could command me to jump…” He sucked in a breath as she slid her hand downward once more, her fingertips skimming over his ballocks. “… jump off a cliff right now… and I’d gladly go.”
She grinned. “Is this how to control a man?”
“Not… ‘a man,’ ” he corrected. “Me. And hell, Olivia. All you really needed to do was… ahhh—” He let out a strangled groan as she pulled back upward, squeezing. He felt the tightness in his lower back—the sign that always told him when his release was imminent.
“What?” she whispered. “What did I need to do?”
“Just smile at me. That’s… ah… all you had to do. One smile and I was… lost.”
She tugged on his cock one more time, seeming to pull the release straight from him. “No,” he ground out. “Not yet.”
He removed her hand from him, then murmured, “Go onto your hands and knees, sweetheart.”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded. He took a moment to gaze at the curtains of hair falling down the sides of her face, the smoothness of her spine and back, and the tight roundness of her behind. He trailed his fingers along her pale, even skin from her neck down to her bottom, cupping one smooth cheek in his palm.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured. He lowered his fingers between her legs, feeling the subtle tremble of her skin beneath him. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “This will feel good.” His worries were allayed when he found her wet and ready for him.
He stroked her until she was panting and thrusting her body back against his fingers, then he aligned himself with her entrance and slowly pushed himself in.
God, it was heaven. She was so warm, so tight, clasping him like a hot, wet glove. “I’m not going to last, Olivia.”
Her only response was a push against him, seating him all the way inside her. He held there for a moment, his eyes closed in pleasure at the feel of her velvet clasp over him.
He held her hips and pulled out and then in, a rhythm as slow and old as time. But after only a few strokes, that feeling welled from the base of his spine, and he knew he couldn’t control it this time. His thrusts became harder, frantic. Release pooled low in his cock, and then—
Still gripping her hips tightly, he pulled out of her and pressed himself against her behind as his orgasm tore out of him. She pushed back, exerting just the right amount of pressure to make him groan. It seemed to go on forever. He thought he’d given everything last night, but this morning he came and came until he was spent. When it stopped, he collapsed to the side of her, pulling her against him, feeling the slickness of his release between them.
He bent down to kiss her head. “Thank you.”
“Mmm,” was all she said in response.
He lay for a few minutes, gathering his strength. Then he rose, yanked on his trousers, and stumbled to the basin. He wet a towel and, warming it between his hands, he returned to her.
She jumped a little when he pressed it against her back. “Shh,” he said. “Just lie there, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”
Carefully, he swiped the cloth over her skin and between her legs, cleaning her gently and thoroughly. When he finished, he fetched her nightgown and helped her put it on, tying it at the neck in a bow like she’d had it last night.
She glanced down then back up at him. “Thank you for last night,” she said quietly. “Thank you for this morning.”
He nodded, suddenly not able to find words to answer her. And then, as he watched her leave him, something strange lurched in his chest.
He didn’t like watching her walk away.
Chapter Nine
Olivia went to Max’s bed every nig
ht for a week, but then her courses arrived, and for the next few nights, when she went to his room they only held each other. And talked. They talked for hours on end—about their pasts, their hopes, their beliefs, and their dreams for the future.
Autumn had given way to the short, cold days of winter. Olivia ignored the cold as much as she could, and she continued to take her walks whenever the weather came close to permitting it, and Max often joined her.
On their walk the day before yesterday, Max finally told her exactly why he never intended to marry. He explained how he’d always been terrified that if he married, he’d become just like his father.
“But why?” she had asked. “Do you think you won’t be faithful?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never felt any compulsion to be faithful to a woman, until now.”
The offhand admission had surprised him, and he’d stared at her for a long moment, the expression in his eyes undecipherable. It hadn’t surprised her. Even though they hadn’t really been with other women besides her sisters and Beatrice, his focus had been entirely on her. And she could say with some measure of confidence that he hadn’t thought of anyone else since he’d arrived in Sussex.
“And you would never abuse a woman like your father did,” she added.
“Never,” he said through gritted teeth.
“So what have you to worry about, then?” she asked, although a part of her wondered why she was pursuing this line of questioning—why would she encourage him to marry when it was obvious he could never marry her?
He looked away from her, his gaze seeming to search through the trees. “There’s a violence in me, Olivia. A rage I sometimes cannot control. I could never expose an innocent woman to that. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
She glanced at him, surprised. She’d never seen him angry. Dismayed and frustrated, perhaps, but never in a rage. “I don’t understand,” she said softly. “That’s not you, Max.”
“But it is me. A part of me I pray you’ll never see.”
Secrets of an Accidental Duchess Page 13