The Right One (One and Only Series)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  His hand covered hers as he showed her how to stroke him. Sheer pleasure unlike anything she’d ever known, flowed through her entire body knowing she held such intoxicating power. She closed her hand around him and squeezed.

  He groaned.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “God, yes. The same as you, just before you found your pleasure, when I had my hand on you.”

  “Am I giving you pleasure?” she whispered.

  “If you don’t stop, I’m afraid my pleasure may embarrass us both.” He buried his hand in her hair and kissed her as though he were a man dying of thirst. He broke free and stilled her hand. “We must stop.”

  “Please, Morgan. I don’t want to stop.”

  “Good, God, Kat. I want you.”

  “You have me.”

  “No. You don’t understand. You are still chaste.”

  “Make me yours.”

  He closed his eyes with a grimace and she wondered if he was in pain. When he opened them again, his black eyes smoldered. If eyes could burn, Morgan’s would have left her in a melting heap of cinders. With something between a growl and a groan, he fastened his mouth to hers. He squeezed her buttocks and pulled her fully against his erection while his hips rotated, grinding his pelvis in her belly. Then his mouth gentled, and his lips left a trail of hot scorching kisses along her neck.

  Kat never knew she could be so relaxed and so tense at the same time. Her hands fisted in his hair, so soft and thick. His lips trailed lower to her breast.

  “Ohhhh, Morgan.” The tingling sensation was so fierce, she felt it throughout her entire body. She was caught in a fog-like trance of pure emotion. His passionate kisses had her head spinning. Morgan had swept her off her feet, but this was no white knight that carried off the princess in a fairy tale. This was a real flesh and blood man. He looked at her as though he could eat her alive. The way she felt right now, she’d let him.

  Her anticipation knew no bounds as he held her gaze and his open mouth covered hers. He thrust his tongue in her mouth while his naked chest rubbed against her aching breasts. Remarkable sensation took her breath. His hands moved down her body, caressing every inch of her exposed flesh. Another wave of longing thumped her center.

  Morgan eased the silky gown over her hips and tossed it to the floor. Her chemise followed. He took her breast, again, into his mouth, sucking hard, while his fingers searched below. An explosion of phenomenal sensations penetrated her body. So many, she couldn’t react on one before another—as violent as the first—came pouring over her.

  A bolt of pressure stabbed between her legs, so severe, she knew she was going to die. Suddenly he removed his fingers. She cried in protest until an invasion of slick steel penetrated where his fingers had been.

  Morgan tried to go slowly since it was her first time. He knew she was a virgin, but she made him lose some of what little control he had. She was so slick and wet. Gritting his teeth he pushed himself inside her, only a bit. Holding back was killing him. Their gazes locked for a brief eternity, then he slowly gave a slight thrust forward. The halting penetration gave a vibration of sorts creating a suction sensation so powerful, it nearly blew his head off. He could hold back no longer and plunged through the barrier of her maidenhead.

  Finally. He was inside her. His cock ready to explode from the sheer sensitivity of her honeyed sheath. Tight. So tight. He closed his eyes, which only made the whirling sensation consume him. He gritted his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache. After a few heart pounding moments, he ground his hips against her, opening her, stretching her to accept his size.

  When he lifted his hips she threw her arms and legs around him in desperation, imprisoning him. If he had not been so near to bursting, he would have laughed at her reluctance to let him go. Hell. He wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled out just a bit, then pushed back into her depths.

  She tightened her arms around him. He pulled out, and pushed in again—the milking chafing crazed his brain. Her kitten-like mews drove him. Again and again he moved in and out of her. Damn, this felt too good. His strokes grew faster, harder, deeper. His breathing ragged. His weight heavy, but still she clung to him. She rocked with him trapped between her legs. Feeling her shudders, he plunged one last time, thrusting his cock as deep as it would go.

  Blood pounded his temples, his body rigid as stone. He threw back his head as wave after wave of blinding pleasure poured through him. Teeth clenched, he groaned over the most shattering climax he’d ever known. This slip of a woman had brought him to his knees.

  All through dinner, Morgan could not take his eyes off her. He couldn’t perceive a coherent thought for the remembered staggering passion of this afternoon—in the drawing room, no less. Was he out of his mind?

  Yes.

  Out of his mind with lust. Lust for Kat. To the point that his servants could go hang. Whetherford Manor was his home. His domain.

  But he would not want to shame Kat. Although the object of his desire did not appear dissuaded by any discomfort. She sat as beautiful as a fiery angel, as confident as a maiden warrior. After their bout of lovemaking this afternoon, he had worried a moment of awkwardness. But the charming beauty amazed him again. Her face—and delectable body—glowing with the aftermath of their passion, she’d gathered her clothes and dressed with quiet dignity. He swore he felt the kiss she coyly blew in his direction as she sashayed through the door.

  His eyes locked on her elegant neck. His mouth salivated at the thought of tasting her sweet flesh. Of his tongue teasing the lobe of her ear. Feeling her body squirm as he blew a hot breath over her delicate shell. He resisted the urge to cross his legs. As his gaze followed the pulsing vein down to the swells above her bodice, he allowed the heated quickening in his breeches to flow through him. He raised his goblet to his lips and forced the liquid down his throat. His heightened arousal made it difficult to breath, let alone swallow the damn drink.

  If only he could undo the damage he’d already done. No matter how hard he tried, he could not erase the experience of this afternoon. Never mind she’d been an innocent. Never mind she’d come to his home on her own. The facts were the facts. He’d taken her virginity. He could not undo that. Yet, he couldn’t help but look forward to having her in his arms again. Preferably in bed.

  Damn his lusty hide. If he thought she wouldn’t refuse him, he’d swipe the plates from this table—most recklessly—and have her panting beneath him on its surface. Looking at her now, he wondered if she would protest. Maybe not. But his servants were a damned inconvenience.

  From hooded lids, Morgan feasted on her comeliness. Besides being quite lovely—her lavish breasts an added boon—her inner beauty enlivened him. He could get used to having her in his life.

  A clatter of silverware jolted him out of his musings. With a deep breath, Morgan rose from his seat and ambled around the table. He inhaled her fragrance as he pulled her chair back and held out his arm.

  Warm rain.

  A field of sunshine.

  “How about a walk in the garden?”

  “I would like that. Thank you, kind sir.” Kat rose gracefully from her chair.

  Morgan reacted with a slight wince at her formal ‘kind sir’. Taking into consideration this afternoon, perhaps darling, sweetheart, or even lover would be more appropriate. She rested her fingers upon his sleeve. After knowing her taste—which hinted at what delights lay beneath her surface—his senses had sharpened. He wanted to taste her sweetness again.

  He escorted her through the open doors, moving onto the garden path. He fought a battle with his conscious.

  Just one taste.

  One taste would never be enough.

  It was all he could do not to crush her back against him and make wild, passionate love with her. How he wanted to throw up her skirts and plow into her softnes
s. His rod was stiff and ready to burst from his breeches.

  Morgan silently groaned.

  His hand lifted and he jerked it back to his side. With a catch in his voice, he spoke softly. “You are quite lovely. Please forgive me for forgetting myself earlier.”

  Her entire body went still.

  Damn his thoughtless mouth. Had he made her uncomfortable by reminding her of their indiscretion, or had she perceived an incorrect interpretation? He had a mind to show her just how much he wanted her—by giving in to the urge to carry her up to his bed and rip her clothes off. Or, maybe—too impatient—he’d leave them on. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the picture in his mind.

  With a renewed force of will, he shook the image away.

  One taste of her and he craved more. Days of making love to her would not be enough. What he really needed was the strength to reign in his raging lust.

  He closed his eyes and drew in a deep exalting breath—which was a mistake. Her fragrance incited his senses beyond his control. Lifting his lids, he swallowed the lump lodged in his dry throat. At that instant he desired to throw her to the ground, to fling himself upon her. To ram his cock in her welcoming, wet heat. Sliding in her woman’s juices . . . he trembled at the idea.

  Bloody hell!

  “I think we’d better go inside.” Struggling for control, he turned and led her back up the path. When her head lifted, her eyes held confusion. “I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he explained.

  Her mouth opened slightly and her expression changed to one of disappointment.

  How this woman ignited emotions in him he thought long dead. He leaned close to her ear and spoke softly, “You don’t need to say anything. Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.”

  When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he released her arm and waited for her to ascend the stairs. She hesitated. Her beautiful green eyes held questions.

  “Goodnight, sweet Kat. I have work I must attend to. I’ll see you in the morning. Mrs. Beasley will have her kitchen staff scurrying around in fervor, preparing a considerable feast before allowing you to go on your way.” Losing the battle with his conscious of resisting at least a touch, he lifted her hand and dipped his head giving a brief brush of his lips across the back—he could stand no more.

  He turned and marched to his study. Had he stayed a moment longer, he would have dragged her up those stairs—if they would have made it that far.

  Kat never dreamed there could be this kind of craving for a man’s touch. Not just any man. No one had ever made her as much as tingle. Morgan made her quiver. He made her hot. He made her yearn.

  She paced the floor in the middle of her bed chamber. His words ran rampant in her mind.

  Your beauty takes my breath away. Your touch makes me shiver with delight.

  She could still feel his hardness—smell his intoxicating scent. He had created a frenzy of longing that gripped her all the way to her toes.

  She hugged her arms around her middle.

  Merciful Heavens!

  There was an ache between her legs even now. A craving, so new to her, grew beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She had no idea why her body acted with a will of its own and she didn’t care. She just knew that in his arms, she’d been totally consumed.

  She had the strength of mind to be in those arms again. The need to feel that overwhelming sensation again. A sensation that he—and only he—had created.

  She walked over to the window and looked out at the black night. The gentle breeze blew across her face as she gazed up to search for a star in the night sky.

  My heart pounds and my blood races through my veins just to be near you.

  He was just down the hall.

  You need someone to make your blood race and your heart sing. Byron makes my whole body sing.

  A melting satisfaction spread through her. “Now I know what Charity meant.” To experience a man’s hardness was quite exhilarating. And, she’d clung to him like wet clothes clung on a body after a dip in the lake.

  She went to the mirror and stood there, trying to see herself as Morgan would see her. The gown she now wore was far more revealing than her day gown. The sheer covering looked like it should not be worn at all—especially out of the bedroom. She’d found it buried in the back of the clothes closet.

  I am trying to be a gentleman.

  Well, her thoughts were not those of a lady, right now.

  She’d never considered exposing her body in front of a man. Since meeting Morgan, she’d considered a lot of things she’d never dare attempt before.

  Like this afternoon.

  In his home.

  Her mind went spinning again.

  In the drawing room.

  Heat flushed her face.

  In the daylight with servants about.

  She let out a soft moan. Shivers of delight flared through her body making her stomach clench. And she’d gladly do it again.

  Good Lord, how she longed to know this man and his mysterious secrets. He was stimulating, invigorating, fascinating . . . mouth-watering. She yearned to explore the delectable things he made her feel, things she’d never imagined were possible.

  Kat strode back to the window. With her arms crossed over her chest, she stared out at the starlit night. During her time in Morgan’s home, she’d learned there was so much more to the man. He’d shared his pain, his grief. His family values. Surely he had feelings for her if he shared so much of himself.

  He had hinted at a dark past. Dangerous jaunts and rescue missions. She hoped that they were no longer a part of his life. He explained how he needed an heir to carry on the family name. Would he consider her for the mother of his child? Could he love her?

  She knew she had already lost—if not her whole heart—a very large piece of it, to him. Leaning her head against the window pane, she longed for even a small piece of his.

  Chapter 23

  Morgan sat brooding in his study. His shirt unbuttoned to the waist, one hand rested on his chest, smoothing the dark fur subconsciously. His other arm flung out, an empty glass dangled by the tips of his fingers. He’d already taken off his boots. He stared moodily at the burning logs.

  This overwhelming need was suffocating. There was no use in going to his room, for sleep eluded him.

  He’d never met a woman like her. She should hate him. She didn’t.

  He had been responsible for the gratification he saw on her face. He had been the one to bring her undeniable pleasure. He had been the one to make her shatter in his arms.

  His chest tightened, amazed at how much her response affected him.

  He needed to keep a much tighter rein on his emotions.

  Cursing under his breath, Morgan pushed from the chair and stalked to the side table. He jerked the top off of the decanter and poured, missing the glass, sloshing brandy over the wooden surface. Hell! He turned the bottle up.

  Taking a hefty swig, he spun on his heel and strode to the window. Looking into the dark night, he saw Kat’s radiant face in her moment of ecstasy.

  Breathtakingly beautiful.

  He wanted her.

  He should leave her alone.

  He wanted her.

  He should let her sleep.

  He wanted her.

  Don’t make things bloody complicated.

  Like they weren’t already.

  His heart was not involved.

  He wanted her.

  She had come apart in his arms, by God!

  What the hell was he doing down here when he could be upstairs with her?

  Hurling the glass at the fireplace, he didn’t care if it smashed into a thousand pieces. He threw open the door and charged into the hallway. He vaulted up the steps, taking them tw
o at a time. In a few easy strides, he stood outside her door. If he knocked and she was asleep, he’d wake her.

  Damned rutting fool.

  He hesitated, persuading his conscience she wanted him. Didn’t he prove that this afternoon? Her tiny cries of release still rung in his head. A response he wanted to experience again.

  Damn, she was beautiful. No woman had ever affected him this way. She was definitely and very firmly planted under his skin. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her. He needed her with him. Under him.

  His cock was hard and straining to be set free from its confinement. Now that he had tasted her passion—knew the excruciating pleasure to be found in her arms—he could no longer deny his craving for her. Watching her face during her climax had given him pleasure beyond his imagining. Fulfillment beyond his envisioning. Completion beyond his dreams.

  Since thinking of her gave him a permanent ache in his groin, he needed to find ecstasy with her soon or become a permanent cripple. He eased the door open, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the darkness.

  Kat stood in silence with her brow against the windowpane, her hair hung about her in waves, making a halo around her form. He could not take his eyes from the lovely vision of his dreams. The breath caught in his throat making him mute. She stood in a cloud of blue so pale he could see the outline of her voluptuous breasts, the curve of her slim waist. He blinked, hoping the enchanting creature before him was not his imagination.

  Her name croaked out in a whispered hush. She turned, her eyes grew wide and held him spellbound. She floated in a cloud of colored mist taking the steps necessary to close the distance, but then seemed to catch herself as if she were unsure.

  Sheer magnetism drew him forward, within a hair’s breadth of her, not touching, just devouring her with his eyes. His struggle was at an end. No more fighting his will. No more fighting his emotions.