Her nerves raw with conflict, Vanessa rolled over and clutched the pillow to her body. The naked, frightening truth was that she wanted him. Wanted him to show her the mysteries of passion, as he’d promised.
She buried her face in the soft down, remembering his whispered words. When you are ready, I will not have to come to you. You will come to me.
Should she go to him?
Her heart took up a wild rhythm.
Slowly she sat up, her pulse beating in a slow painful cadence, while a knot of tension coiled in her stomach.
What would happen if she went to him?
She felt herself trembling. For an endless moment she fought a confused tangle of emotions: hope and fear, excitement and dismay, anticipation and disquiet.
What if she proved as cold and passionless as she feared? What if she did not?
In the end the decision was not really a conscious one.
As if in a dream, Vanessa slipped from her bed and lit a candle. Moving to the panel that hid the secret passageway, she found the catch and pressed.
Then, with her heart thudding in her chest, she took a deep breath and slid open the panel door.
Chapter Eight
She reached the end of the narrow passage and stopped, scarcely daring to breathe. The panel in the wall had a catch similar to her own, she saw.
Hesitating, Vanessa snuffed out the candle and stood alone in the darkness, her heartbeat painful and clamorous. At length, however, she gathered her courage and slid open the panel.
She had little trouble seeing, for the draperies had been left undrawn. The sweet summer night air drifted through an open window, while moonlight flooded the chamber with blue-white intensity.
The huge bed that dominated the room was occupied. The man on the bed lay absolutely still, cast in a glow of silver light and shadow.
She thought Damien might be sleeping. His hands were clasped behind his head, a pale linen sheet drawn up to his hips. But she was wrong. He was watching her. Her breath caught harshly.
In the hushed quiet of the room, their eyes locked.
“Did I wake you?” she asked, the question a shaky whisper of sound.
Slowly he rose up on his elbows. “No, I wasn’t asleep. But I must be dreaming. Are you a dream, angel?”
The warmth of his voice touched a quickness in her that left her trembling. “No. No dream.”
“Will you come here?” he prompted gently. “I dare not move for fear of frightening you away.”
He understood her terrible vulnerability, Vanessa realized. She moved unsteadily to stand beside the bed. She could hear the sharp sound of her own breathing in the quiet of the room.
His nearness made her excruciatingly aware of his nakedness. The sheet covered the lower part of his muscular body but did nothing to disguise the tapering chest, the lean, hard waist, the flat belly or narrow hips…
When she stood paralyzed, Damien took the candlestick from her slack fingers and set it on the bedside table. Then, grasping her hand, he drew her slowly down to sit beside him.
For a long moment he said nothing, wanting to give her time to be certain of the decision she had made. After tonight there would be no turning back.
Her midnight eyes were huge and questioning as he reached to lift a curling tress from her breast. His fingers rubbed lightly, feeling the rich, silken texture.
“Your hair is exquisite. I’ve dreamed of having it wrapped around me.”
She made no response, mutely staring down at him.
His hand slid down her arm in a gentle caress. “Do I frighten you?” he murmured.
“I… I suppose… a little.”
“You frighten me as well… with your beauty, your innocence.”
He took her hand and placed it on his bare chest, letting her feel the strong beat of his heart. “Feel my heart, sweeting, how it quickens at your touch.”
When she remained immobile, his velvet voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I won’t press you, Vanessa. We will do whatever you wish, no more. You will set the pace between us. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise you.”
Her eyes remained riveted on his face. Moonlight danced over his features, accenting the high cheekbones, the lean jaw, the strong column of his throat. He was telling her the truth, she knew; the dark intensity in his gleaming eyes told her so.
Her gaze dropped lower, to the sleekly muscled chest beneath her fingertips, then nervously flickered back up to meet his.
“I… don’t… know what to do. Will you show me?”
An unconsciously tender smile turned one corner of his sensuous mouth. “I would be honored.”
His fingers closed over hers. “Touch me, Vanessa,” he urged softly.
Under his guidance, her hand moved over his body, caressing uncertainly at first, then with more eagerness. She could feel the hard muscles ripple beneath his skin, feel the heated strength of him, and it stirred a now familiar warmth within her.
She faltered, though, when her palm neared his groin. Sensing her discomfort, Damien unhurriedly drew aside the sheet that covered his loins, giving her a bold view of his arousal, pulsing and erect, between his sinewed thighs.
“I am just a man, cherie,” he murmured. “Flesh and blood, just like you. Feel me, sweeting. Feel how powerfully you arouse me.”
Inexorably his hand guided her to his throbbing erection, closing her fingers deliberately around him. Her breath spiraled away from her at the shocking feel of him; the huge, swollen length was rigid and rock hard, yet covered in smooth, heated velvet. Not so frightening after all, perhaps… Rather, it was strangely arousing.
“My flesh can be an instrument of pleasure, not just pain, Vanessa. And I swear to you, it will be for you.”
He moved on then, encouraging her hand lower, brushing the warm sac beneath his thick shaft, then over his powerful horseman’s thighs with their faint dusting of dark hair, lingering at his lean flank… Then, surprisingly, he released her hand.
“ ‘Tis your turn alone, angel. You may do as you like with me. I am at your mercy.”
It was a novel experience, having a powerful, virile man such as Lord Sin vulnerable and pliant beneath her touch. Somehow liberating. Intoxicating.
With a will of its own, her hand resumed its sinful exploration of his magnificent nude body, stroking, touching, lingering. He was beautiful, she thought, savoring the feel of his hard, warm flesh, the taut, smooth skin, the supple sinews. His masculine beauty inundated her senses, entrancing her.
“Yes… that’s it, sweeting… touch me.”
Holding her breath, she returned to his thick arousal and tentatively brushed the engorged length. It quivered at her touch.
Damien closed his eyes and let out a soft groan.
Immediately Vanessa drew back. “Did I hurt you?”
He gave a soft laugh. “Indeed, a pleasurable hurt. You can drive a man wild with such exquisite ministrations. Don’t stop, I beg you.”
She bit her lip, tinglingly aware of her newfound sense of feminine power, and yet she hesitated, her courage faltering.
Thankfully, Damien took the decision from her. Reaching up with a languid finger, he brushed her breast, which was hidden by the cambric bodice of her nightdress. Vanessa drew a sharp breath as her nipple peaked tightly beneath the thin fabric.
“Your nightdress, angel,” he queried softly, his voice dark velvet. “Must you leave it on?”
She went suddenly still. The thought of being naked with this man, of completely exposing her body to him, unnerved her, and yet, she knew he would not force her against her will. Again he was giving her a choice.
Shutting her eyes tightly for a moment, she lifted her hips off the bed and drew the garment over her head, then let it drop to the floor. She heard Damien’s intake of breath, saw his intent gaze flare with pleasure.
Her cheeks flaming, she started to cover her naked bosom with her arms, but he held her hands away. “No… let me look at you.”
&nb
sp; Shame and wanton excitement flowed through her at the possessive intimacy of his heated gaze.
“Your breasts are exquisite, angel, high and lush, the nipples like delicate rosebuds. You shouldn’t be ashamed to let me see them.”
At his brazen scrutiny, she felt her nipples begin to ache, her breasts grow heavy.
“Come to me, sweeting,” he commanded. Reaching out, he took her by the arms and drew her down to lie against him, her bare, aching breasts pressed to his chest. Vanessa went rigid at the intimate contact.
“Just lie here with me a moment,” he cajoled. “I want to feel you in my arms.”
Obeying, she lay still, her entire body vibrating with shock and desire at the hard, naked heat of him. His hands stroked her back and he held her lightly, as if waiting for her coiled-tight tension to fade.
Eventually it did; after a time she felt her rigid muscles soften, grow weak. Without haste Damien drew her even closer, to lie fully against him, his lithe, masculine form imprinting his maleness onto her. She could feel his arousal pulsing against her belly, his lips moving against her hair. A hypnotic languor stole over her, while a slow heat built inexorably between them.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, the question a husky whisper.
She drew a shaky breath. “No… don’t stop.”
His long fingers came back to lie alongside her jaw and slowly turned her face up to his. He meant to kiss her, she knew. She felt a delicious drifting of his warm breath across her parted lips, then the tender caress of his mouth as he coaxed hers open.
He kissed her very slowly, very carefully, a lingering, intimate knowing of her mouth. A vibrant shiver ran through her as his tongue delved inside, drinking deep. The last vestiges of her resistance dwindled at his inflaming kiss.
After a moment his hot mouth slid lower. His lips moved against her throat, his hand lightly caressing her body. Her breathing sharpened painfully when he found the rising swell of her breast; where his fingers touched, her skin seemed to burn.
Sensations of longing and desire surged inside her as her breast nested in his hand. With infinite care, Damien shifted their positions, pressing her onto her back, and bent over her. She started to tense, but then his searing breath touched her nipple, and her own breath turned to warm liquid in her lungs.
His lips traced a halo of kisses edging the aureole, then the rosy center. Instantly, all the fires he had aroused within her earlier again kindled to life, white-hot and urgent. She felt the same brazen, primal need she’d known in the conservatory among the roses.
His tongue glided slowly over a soft crest, and a weak trembling began in her limbs, a feverish yearning. Again his tongue touched the swollen flesh, tasting her, sliding over the distended surface of her nipple, igniting her senses. When his mouth closed around the hard bud with exquisite pressure, Vanessa arched up, wanting his mouth.
He sucked gently, sipping at her, and his erotic attentions drew a moan from her throat. He continued to lave the hard, aching peak, while his questing hand moved downward over her body with deliberate slowness, his fingers caressing her bare skin with soft strokes.
Her body was melting, yet she was unprepared when his hand slid between her shivering thighs to claim the womanly softness of her. She went rigid, pressing her hands against his shoulders in protest.
Damien rose above her, gazing down into her eyes intently. “Trust me, Vanessa. Together we can find where the stars are born.”
“I don’t know if-”
“Hush, angel.” His mouth dipped to touch hers. “Can you not recognize desire when you feel it?”
Slowly he parted her thighs again, his fingers tangling in the dark curls at the portal to her femininity. Her eyes squeezed shut, but she let him continue, not protesting when he began to stroke the soft female cleft, dewy with warmth. She gasped as he discovered the delicate bud hidden there.
Sensually, expertly, his thumb caressed her, sweeping away all thoughts of denial, the languid, tantalizing rhythm arousing a wild, relentless pleasure in her. She felt hot, feverish, throbbing. Her thighs fell open as he parted the sensitive skin of her inner lips.
A tremor rippled through her when he slid a long finger into her quivering flesh, finding her slick and wet.
“See, your honey flows for me,” he whispered with satisfaction, watching her flushed face.
Her head moved restlessly on the pillow as she surrendered to the magic of his wonderful, caressing hands.
The fingers were bolder now, exploring her with hot, slick strokes, learning the intimate secrets of her, lavishing sensuality on the melting folds of flesh, the slow thrusts a sweet, delicious torture.
Writhing now, Vanessa arched against his hand, seeking ease for the hot, pulsing ache between her thighs. She thought she might faint, but not from fear. Fear was no part of the tumultuous feelings surging through her.
“Are you ready for me, sweet angel?” he rasped. “I think yes…”
A fierce disappointment assailed her when his magic suddenly ceased, but he was only anointing his huge shaft with the slick wetness that seeped from her body. Then he moved over her, settling in the cradle of her thighs.
She felt his weight, the pressure of his powerful thighs against her bare skin, the controlled probing of his hardness.
Shivering helplessly, Vanessa stared up at him, a deep primal fear combined with excitement coursing through her. Their eyes locked as he eased the silken head into her quivering flesh.
She stiffened and gasped as the fiery brand intruded into the delicate softness of her, her newly sensitized body thrumming with panic and desire. Unbidden, her fear rose, yet he glided in smoothly, as if her body had been made expressly for him, for this.
Her tension eased as his body wrapped around hers, warming her, calming her.
“The stars, angel. Will you come with me?”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she gazed up at him. He was holding her so gently and his eyes were so soft…
“Yes…”
She kept very still, desperately wanting him to stay inside her, wanting the heat of his fullness deep within her.
His mouth found hers again, tenderly arousing. “I want to get closer,” he whispered against her lips, even as he buried himself deeper. “So close I can’t breathe without you being a part of me.”
His raw, silky voice caressed her as he roused a throbbing need that swelled and grew. He was murmuring sensual, coaxing words against her lips as his body began to move against hers.
Vanessa shuddered. He was a dark fire, igniting her senses. He was raw torment and searing pleasure. The tremulous desperation intensified within her, making her writhe and arch her back.
Her legs wrapped around his as she struggled to get closer, as the dark waves of pleasure built relentlessly.
“Damien…” His name was like a prayer on her lips.
Her nails dug into the flesh of his back. The pleading moan that came to her throat became another cry that was taken from her by his kiss. No longer was she conscious of her surroundings, only of Damien, of his ebony hair and silver eyes, of his hard-driving body, his feverish mouth and possessive thrusts. He was her world, the center of the spiraling madness that held her in its turbulent grip.
The hungry plundering of his mouth followed the urgent motion of his hips, his hardness impaling her, while his rough, sensual voice urged her on, deep into a heated wildness.
“Yes, be on fire for me…”
Dimly, she knew she was sobbing.
He was moving faster, deeper, filling her to bursting, his breathing thick and heavy. Brilliant flames leapt against the blackness of her mind, and she cried out, a high, keening pleasure sound. She felt as if she were dying in his arms.
In mindless abandon she began to convulse beneath him. Her body surrendered to him, overwhelmed by blind desire that shook her, wrenched her, devoured her.
His mouth captured her scream of passion as she shattered around him. Giving her no surcease, his
hands closed over her buttocks, lifting them so he could thrust even more deeply inside her.
His face contorted with pleasure and pain, Damien exploded inside her.
She was still clinging to him long moments later when he lowered himself to her side, shaking with aftershocks. He held her limp and trembling body, cradling her in his arms, his breath harsh, ragged.
She was weeping, he realized with alarm. “Angel?”
Concern flooding him, he turned her face up to his to search her shimmering eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
Swallowing, she nodded her head. “Yes, a pleasurable hurt,” she returned huskily, echoing his earlier reply.
When he saw her tremulous smile, his concern eased. Her tears were tears of joy, of wonder. She had tasted the warmth and passion he knew her capable of, and it had shocked her, that was all.
Tenderness assailed him as he held her lightly. He wanted to kiss those tears away. “Your body is becoming awakened to desire for the first time.”
To his surprise, she reached up and tentatively touched his lips with her fingertips. “I never realized stars could be so lovely.”
A smiled filled his eyes. In her deplorable innocence, she hadn’t known lovemaking could be so powerful, so soul-wrenching. Nor had he, in all honesty. The shattering intensity of his climax just now had startled him. As jaded as he was with pleasures of the flesh, passion with her had seemed somehow fresh and new.
And he knew that one taste of her would not be enough.
A chill night breeze wafted over his skin, cooling his heated flesh and hers. Feeling her shiver, he reached down to draw the covers up over them both, then gathered Vanessa closer. Her body weak and sated, she buried her face against his shoulder, an unconsciously sensual gesture.
Damien felt a fresh stirring of desire and a dangerous tenderness. As she lay languid in his arms, he toyed with a lock of her satiny hair, his thoughts a strange fusion of emotions.
His plan to satisfy a fleeting hunger for her had ripened into something far more compelling. What had started as a carnal seduction had become a tender wooing… a wooing he was determined to continue.
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