by Sara Orwig
“Luke!”
He thrust more deeply, feeling the obstruction of her maidenhead, withdrawing until her hands clutched at him, and he lost control. Luke thrust into her softness, the obstruction stopping him, then yielding, and his throbbing shaft slid deep within her. Her cries were passionate until he covered her mouth and ended them with his kisses as they moved together.
Honor clung to him, the slight pain vanishing as desire raged like an inferno. Arching beneath him, she moved with Luke, trying to take more of him, to get closer, his heat and hardness filling her. She clung to his strong shoulders, aware of only their joining and the rapture and need that was driving her to a frenzy beneath him.
“Honor, love,” he said, his voice deep and husky with passion.
Need spiraled, sensations racking her as dazzling light seemed to explode behind her closed eyes, and her cries were only dim sounds drowned by the roaring of her pulse. And best of all was the knowledge that it was Luke holding her, loving her, her husband in the fullest sense now, a joining that had to go deep within him as it would with her, something beyond two bodies, now a union that would bind two hearts.
Thought spun away and sensation enveloped her, carrying her to a brink and then bursting into release as she arched against him.
“Honor,” he said, the word a deep growl in her ear while her body spasmed beneath him. She gasped for breath, feeling his weight, feeling him still thrusting within her. Then suddenly she wanted him again, and need began once more. Shocked by her body’s reaction, she opened her eyes to see Luke watching her, sweat covering his face and shoulders. And then her eyes closed as she was lost in another dizzying whirlwind of need, her body moving with his until she cried out with release and felt his body shudder, his hot seed spilling deep within her.
“Honor!” he gasped, his body still moving with her as they slowed. She felt the hot, wet essence of him and prayed there would be a child from this union. She wrapped her arms around him, suddenly sobbing with joy as Luke’s arms enveloped her.
He raised up. “Honor?”
She looked up at him when his thumb wiped away a tear. “Lord, are you hurting?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and looking at his sea-green eyes that were like storm-spun waters. “I love you, Luke, and I’m happy.”
His breath went out as he exhaled. Then his gaze lowered to her mouth, and his mouth covered hers. He kissed her deeply, his tongue entering her, his shaft still deep inside her.
Joyous, she clung to his hard strength, wanting him, knowing she loved him and praying that her love would be enough to surmount whatever dark threat lay in his past.
She returned his kiss with all the love and joy bursting within her, feeling she could never get enough of him, enough touching him or talking to him or just looking at him.
She felt him stir within her and pulled back in shock to look at him. “Luke?”
“You do that to me, Honor,” he said gruffly, desire in his eyes.
“Again, this soon?”
He kissed her, and she had her answer as his tongue stroked the inside of her mouth while his hands slid over her. It all began again, a dance of love that drove her to a frenzy more than before, her heartbeat drumming, her body feeling on fire with need, and finally the shattering release racking both of them.
Stunned by the passion he had stirred in her, she lay in his arms wondering if he thought she was wanton and then, not caring, joyous with having him be part of her.
He turned on his side and shifted, their legs entwined while he propped his head on his hand to stroke her cheek and throat. “Ahh, Honor, I feel I’ve stolen a treasure and should hang for what I’ve done. This is the worst and best night of my life because I have taken something from you—”
She placed her fingers on his mouth. “And you have given so much to me, so no regrets, Luke,” she said, the first real hurt coming because she knew now that there was still a part of him that was shut away from her.
“The ranch is mine now,” she said woodenly, quickly brought back to the reality of what bound them.
Luke wrapped her in his arms, holding her against him tightly while he stroked her supple bare back. He wanted to swear, and a tight knot of anger tormented him because he had heard the pain in her voice, and tonight he hadn’t intended to cause her worry about the ranch or about his love.
“Honor,” he said softly, “this is a wonderful night.” His tongue touched her ear lightly, tracing its curve until she turned her head and he covered her mouth with his.
The next time they calmed, and he wrapped her in his arms, he swore silently to himself for satisfying himself so much. “Love, you’ll be sore and ache all over if we don’t curb our passion.”
She laughed softly against his throat. “I’ll worry about that later, Luke.”
“Stop trailing your fingers along my leg, Honor. You have no idea how susceptible I am to your touch.”
“Is that right?” she said, sitting up to look down at him. Her cloud of black hair spilled over her naked body, her breasts thrusting through the long strands, her rosy nipples and tan skin a sharp contrast to the raven locks. Her waist was tiny enough that he could circle it with his two hands, and her silky legs were long and shapely.
“My sweet Comanche,” he said, his voice filled with such tenderness that her breath caught. Her hand drifted over his belly and he inhaled.
“Honor!” he snapped, his shaft swelling and becoming hard again.
She glanced down at his maleness, then slanted him a coy look. “Don’t you ever get enough?”
He rolled her over suddenly, unable to laugh at her teasing because she was a fiery torment to him, the sight of her body making him want her as much as the first time. “No, I don’t get enough of you. I warned you,” he said, bending his head to kiss her and cut short her reply.
It was dawn before Luke fell asleep, and as he drifted off with Honor tucked against his side, his arms wrapped around her, he felt a stab of amazement because he was sore, and he knew Honor must hurt. The night had been wild with passion, something he hadn’t expected. He had thought he would love her and they would both talk and drift to sleep as they had done on the nights they had shared a bed with a pillow barrier between them. But he knew now he could never again get through a night that close to her without loving her. He stared into the darkness, glancing down at her head on his chest, her long raven hair spread over him, one leg across his beneath the covers.
He loved her. Maybe he had loved her for a long time and avoided facing what he felt because he knew he couldn’t have her. He had always known her father expected some fancy wealthy man to marry her.
Luke stroked Honor’s hair and thought about his past. If he turned himself in and stood trial—thought stopped there. He couldn’t consider it because no matter what happened, it would take him away from the H Bar R, and Honor needed his protection. And if he were found guilty, sentenced to hang, she would be a widow years before Jeddy came of age. She had Dusty and the men, but that wouldn’t stop Stanton if she were widowed. Thoughts churned through Luke, and he pulled her close against him, trying to keep from crushing her in his arms as he wanted to.
Her soft sigh was a whisper in the night. Her eyes were closed, but she made a low sound of satisfaction and wrapped her arm more tightly across him and rubbed her leg against his with a friction that set him aflame again.
“Honor?” he murmured, stroking her head, and she twisted to look up at him as she slid over his body. His arms wrapped around her and her mouth covered his, and they were lost in lovemaking again.
When Luke’s breathing grew deep and even, Honor wriggled away to sit up. He had built up the fire before falling asleep, and there was still enough of a glow from the smoldering logs that she could see him.
The faint golden light of the fire bathed his male body, highlighting the muscle, showing the dark planes. One hand was flung out across the bed, and Honor drank in the sight of him, feeling as if she
could never get enough of him.
The sheet was low across his hips; his skin dark against the white covers. Honor reached out to touch his chest, feeling a sense of wonder and a nagging knowledge that what she had during the night would not last.
Luke was honor-bound to her father, filled with duty and worry about his past. The day would come when she might lose Luke, but not yet. She leaned forward to touch his hair, then his mouth, knowing she was risking waking him, but unable to keep her hands away, still stunned by the past events and enthralled with his lovemaking. “… sweet Comanche …” The words gave her another thrill because he must like her heritage.
Even asleep, he looked powerful.
Blushing as she remembered what he had done and her responses to him, she slid down against him. He shifted, his arm going around her, and she looked at him, wondering if he were awake, but his breathing was even and she realized he was holding her close in his sleep. His arm tightened around her waist and she slid her leg across his beneath the covers, feeling cherished, shutting out the cold knowledge that what she had was so fleeting.
Excitement kept her awake, but finally she relaxed and sleep took her to oblivion.
When she stirred again she moved lethargically, tantalizing sensations arousing her, her body aching for satisfaction. She opened her eyes to find Luke watching her, his hand cupping her breast as he ran his thumb back and forth over her nipple and then leaned down to kiss her breast. She wound her arms around him, twisting and moving against him until he raised his head and his mouth covered hers.
They loved as wildly and passionately as the night before, and finally, when he settled and pulled her close, she placed her head on his chest. “Good morning,” she said.
He chuckled, a deep rumble that she felt beneath her head and hand. “Morning, love.”
She wished he would address her that way always when they were alone, but she knew better than to ask. “Luke, I’m sore.”
“So am I. I’ll get you a hot tub of water—”
Honor sat up, her cheeks flooding with heat. “Dolorita! Oh, Luke—and Jeddy! What’ll they think?”
Luke grinned, his green eyes full of mischief as he toyed with locks of her hair. “They’ll think we’re in love,” he said with amusement. “Jeddy has his nose in a book too much to care or notice. Dolorita knows everything that goes on around here, and there’s no way you’re keeping this from her.”
Honor fell back on the bed. “Luke, I’m embarrassed. What time is it? The sun looks high.”
“The sun is damned high,” he said with amusement. He twisted away from her and then lay back. “It’s almost half past nine.”
“In the morning!” Honor scrambled out of bed and yanked up the sheet to cover herself. “I’ve never stayed in bed this late unless I was dreadfully sick.”
Luke had a faint smile as he studied her. He leaned forward to yank the sheet out of her hand. “It’s too late now, Honor,” he said in a husky voice, “and if you hadn’t told me you were sore, I would get out of this bed and—”
“Never mind! Luke, how can I face her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, climbing out of bed and striding across the room as casually as if he were fully clothed. “Dolorita was married and had children. It’s not your Aunt Lavinia you have to face today,” he added. He turned to look at Honor, his gaze sweeping over her and making her tremble. “Don’t forget, love, we’re married.”
“Oh, Luke,” Honor said, blushing hotly, and he grinned. She placed her hand on her hips. “Don’t you stand there grinning like the coyote that ate the hen!”
“I see a hen I’d like to eat all over again,” he said in a husky voice, crossing the room to her.
“No, you don’t!” she said, holding out her hand against his chest. “We can’t stay shut in here any longer. Jeddy could come in.”
“Jeddy has his nose buried in a book and won’t come up for air until his stomach growls,” Luke said, trailing kisses along her bare arm, which was against his chest, reaching for her and drawing her against him.
The moment she pressed against the warm length of him, her resistance crumbled. “You have irresistible charm.”
And that ended the discussion until the next time she looked at the clock and saw it was almost ten in the morning. “Luke McCloud, this is dreadful!”
“That isn’t the attitude you had a few minutes ago,” he said, stepping out of bed and moving across the room to pick up his pants. He glanced at her as he buttoned them. “I’d like to carry you back to bed and stay here all day, but I know we have to put in an appearance. I’ll pull on something and start heating some bathwater—”
“Oh, Luke, I’m embarrassed!”
He chuckled and touched her hair. “This is why people take wedding trips I suppose. Then I’d have you all to myself for days. The thought makes me want to head back to the bed right now.” He glanced at the floor. “Honor, I forgot something—”
He walked to the bed, and, for the first time, she saw a splash of red silk lying on the floor. Luke picked it up and held it out to her.
“I bought this for you in San Antonio and had it on the foot of the bed last night to surprise you. It must have fallen to the floor.”
“Oh, Luke,” she said, taking the nightgown from him. It had tiny, narrow straps and lace on the low-cut bodice. It was a shimmering scarlet and soft in her hands. “It’s shameless!” she exclaimed, holding it against herself. “And it’s beautiful!”
“It’s yours, love. Wear it for me tonight,” he added. He grinned and strode across the room. “I’m opening the door, so you better get some cover—”
She flew to the bed and slipped beneath the covers. “Close the door!”
He crossed the room to her and leaned down to kiss her. “My beautiful wife,” he said in a husky voice, suddenly looking solemn and she drew a deep breath, his words warming her.
She watched him go, then slid out of bed to look again at the red silk gown. Luke had bought it for her and brought it home as a surprise, and that thrilled her. She folded it carefully and placed it in a drawer, then tried to find some clothing to wear.
The first bath was hot, and she shared it with Luke. An hour later she made him stay across the room while she took one again in tepid water and wrapped herself in a towel to dry.
“Now you may bathe and don’t you touch me. It’s going to be noon, Luke, before we get out of this room,” she said darkly. “I feel myself blush every time I think about facing everyone. Isn’t Dusty worrying about you?”
“I imagine Dolorita has filled Dusty in on things. If she hasn’t already, she will.” He crossed to tilt Honor’s face up and kiss her lightly. “We’re married, Honor. Even though we know it was a technicality to save the ranch, it’s legitimate. We’re man and wife. Someday you’ll have your annulment,” Luke said, the words cutting into her heart as much as if he had drawn a knife to stab her. “And we won’t be able to live like man and wife,” he said solemnly. “I want to,” he said, his voice becoming rough and his eyes darkening with feeling. “I want to, Honor. Lord knows, I want to, but I have reasons, and someday you’ll know and you’ll agree with my decision. Right now, we’ve saved the ranch.”
“Luke,” she said, “I love you, and there can’t be anything so terrible that it would destroy what I feel for you,” she whispered.
Hurting, wondering if he turned himself in whether he would have the slightest chance of escaping years in prison or hanging, he wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t go against promises and vows, and I can’t involve you in something that would hurt you even more later. You’re young and strong and right now you can forget me.”
“No!” she said, pulling back to look up at him, her dark brows drawn together, her voice fierce.
“Yes, you can,” he continued firmly. “We had last night, and we’ll take tonight, but we can’t go on. If we do, neither of us can stop, and then you might get hurt so terribly, I couldn’t bear it.”
“Luke, tell me what’s in your past.”
Luke looked into her wide dark eyes and wanted to spill it all out to her, to tell her his fears, his reasons for knowing their marriage could hurt her more than ever. Yet he knew he could not tell Honor, because she would never accept that he could really be in danger, and she would swear that it wouldn’t make any difference to her.
“I can’t, Honor,” he said solemnly.
They stared at each other, a clash of wills that he could feel, knowing she was Horace Roth’s child and wouldn’t give up that easily.
“There is nothing in your past other than a wife,” she said quietly, “that could keep me from loving you.”
Her words took away his breath, and his chest felt tight with pain. “If we gave our love freely,” he answered, choosing his words with care, “in the future you could be hurt dreadfully because my past can still catch up with me. And I don’t want to have children.”
She blinked and stared at him, clutching her middle, a sudden look of uncertainty in her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought of that last night,” she said stiffly, and turned away, walking out of the room.
He wanted to run after her, to catch her and hold her, tell her what he had done and ask for her love and forgiveness, but he loved her too much to do that to her. And any children he would ever bring into the world could be hurt so badly. At the thought of his own child with Honor, agony tore through him. He loved Honor, wanted her, wanted her children. He clenched his fists, longing to turn his back on the past, but at any moment a bounty hunter or a lawman could wreck everything by taking him away to prison, so Luke let Honor go.
In minutes he went to the kitchen and Dolorita looked up, her eyes twinkling so much his hurt momentarily abated. “Good morning, Dolorita. We slept late.”
“Yes, sir. Dusty came up to the house and I explained things to him.”
Luke nodded. Word might even reach town before Honor had to see the lawyers.
“Where’s Honor?”
“I haven’t seen her,” Dolorita said, her brows arching as she studied him curiously. “I thought she was with you.”