by Linda Howard
Lucas lowered her to the floor and stretched her out, his face hard with his own passion as he tore his pants open. If he took the time to carry her into the bedroom she might recover enough to begin fighting him again, and he had to be inside of her or go mad. Nothing was easy with Dee, and certainly not her denouement; having tested the strength of her maidenhead, he knew it would hurt her, and Dee didn’t take kindly to being hurt.
He shoved her skirt to her waist and spread her legs, then settled between them. She made a low sound deep in her throat, and her slim legs came up to clasp his hips. Lucas set his mouth on hers, feeling the sleepy parting of her lips and the slow glide of her arms around his neck. He drank in the sweetness of her response even as he reached down and guided his shaft to the small, soft opening and pushed inside. He did it with a strong, even stroke, not pausing at the internal resistance but not being rough with her either. He could almost feel the shock reverberate through her body as it absorbed his penetration, the virginal walls tightening about him as if to prevent him from going deeper, and it felt even better than he had imagined. She was hot and wet and impossibly tight, the sensation racing along his nerves.
Then she screamed. It was a sound of mingled pain and fury, and just what he had expected. Some women would lie docile beneath a dominating man, but not Dee. She exploded into movement, her entire body heaving and bucking in an effort to dislodge him from inside her. Everything about it maddened her: the burning pain as he forced his way into her, his weight as he held her down, the very penetration of her body. She couldn’t accept it; she mindlessly struggled against that domination, against the invasion of herself.
Lucas held her down with all of his weight and the iron strength of his arms and legs, letting her fight it out until she became accustomed to his length inside her. Her fierce struggle moved her on him almost as if he were thrusting, and he ground his teeth as he held himself as still as possible. Sweat sheened his skin as he waited for her to tire, for the pain to lessen, for her to begin to feel the pleasure of a man’s fullness stretching her and probing deep. She was naturally voluptuous, and he had already shown her the heights of physical enjoyment; she wouldn’t be able to deny herself for long. He hoped.
That point came gradually. She was already tired from both their previous struggle and her climax; he could feel her muscles relax, against her will, for she would almost immediately tighten them for renewed rejection, but the pauses between struggles grew longer until the struggles finally ceased. She lay still beneath him, breathing hard, her eyes closed against the naked triumph in his.
He kissed her forehead and smoothed the tangle of hair back from her face. “Is it still hurting?” he murmured against her temple.
She moved restlessly, and her hands settled on his sides as if she couldn’t decide whether to embrace him or push him away. “Yes. I don’t like it.” Then honesty compelled her to add, “But it doesn’t hurt as much as it did at first.”
“Just lie still for a little longer, sweetheart. If it still hurts then, I’ll stop.”
She was silent, and her breath continued to slow. Lucas shifted against her, luxuriating in the feel of her enveloping him. Sweat trickled down his back.
“Damn you, you knew it would be like this, didn’t you?” Experimentally she flexed her inner muscles around the burning shaft that had invaded her, relaxing a bit when it didn’t result in pain.
Lucas tensed and groaned. “Jesus. Sweetheart, please, don’t move.”
“You’re crushing me,” she said in a low voice. “Couldn’t you at least have put me on the bed?”
“We’ll get to the bed,” he promised, brushing her lips with his. For now, he thought, the floor was just fine.
She opened her eyes. Her gaze was solemn and questioning. “What you made me feel before—doing this will make me feel the same?”
“If I do it right. If you want me enough.”
She gave a little laugh and lifted her knees alongside his hips. “Oh, I want you.”
“Enough?”
She knew what he was asking, and her somber green eyes met his intense blue ones. “Yes. Enough.”
He moved slowly, thrusting inward until his entire length stretched her. Dee gasped, her body arching upward, and just as slowly he withdrew. “You don’t want me to stop?” he asked, just to make sure.
Her hands clutched at his sides. “No.” Her voice sounded strangled. “Oh, no.”
“I don’t know if I can hold back long enough to satisfy you this time,” he said with grim honesty as he began moving in a strong rhythm.
For answer she locked her strong legs around his hips and lifted herself up to him, offering her body, as generous as he had been in first taking care of her. That was all it took. He began moving into her with a powerful rhythm, and she accepted him, welcomed him. With a stifled shout he went rigid, then shuddered violently and convulsed with the force of his seed spurting from his body.
An hour later they lay naked in the bed, exhausted and almost asleep. Scarcely had they recovered from the first lovemaking than he had grown erect once again, and that time he had carried her to the bed and finished stripping their clothes off. She had found that making love could be a slow tangle of bodies, hot and languorous, that carried them to the same conclusion.
He had drawn it out, building her arousal so high that when the crest finally broke she had been wild with it, so that she had inevitably carried him to the same heights. He had made love to his share of women, but none of them had ever engrossed him the way Dee did. He was fascinated by the changes passion wrought in her body, from the hardening of her nipples to the moistening of her sweet little female channel. She was a she-cat in bed as well as out, giving just as fiercely as she took. He had known making love to her would be a challenge, but he hadn’t known it would be both tiring and exhilarating, like riding and conquering a tidal wave until it subsided into gentle breakers on a beach.
He felt a cold twinge of panic as he lay there. Making love to anyone else after having had Dee would be like giving up the bite of whiskey for the sedative effects of heated milk. Because he didn’t want to think she had ruined him for anyone else he willed the idea and the panic away, but it kept returning.
There was no way he could be satisfied with Olivia now. Before meeting Dee he had been certain in his mind that Olivia was the wife he wanted, a gently bred woman who knew how to hostess a large dinner, who would be at ease with politicians and millionaires. He had planned to acquire her just as he had planned to acquire more land, but in one short afternoon those plans had been turned to ashes. Thank God he had held back and hadn’t actually asked Olivia to marry him; she deserved a lot more than a husband who couldn’t get another woman out of his mind.
He thought of Denver and the political maze he would have to negotiate to build the power base necessary to influence decisions the way he wanted. There would be receptions and dinners, endless maneuvering taking place with the socializing. He was willing to do that to build the Double C into an empire, maybe to pave the way for one of his own sons to be governor, but he had pictured Olivia at his side during the endless social functions, her cool, polished manner perfect for the situation.
Now when he brought up the image he found that the woman didn’t have a face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t imagine Dee there. He couldn’t see her catering to the comfort of a self-important politician; she would be more likely to skewer him with that rapier tongue of hers. No, she didn’t fit in at all with the life he had planned for himself, even supposing she would be willing to try, which she wasn’t. She had made it plenty clear that she liked her life the way it was, thank you, without anyone to tell her what to do. Sometimes—hell, most of the time—he wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her, but at the same time he grudgingly gave her the respect she deserved. It took a strong-willed woman to accomplish what she had, and she wasn’t likely to submit that will to any man’s.
So where did that leave him?
Right where he was, he thought, and he didn’t like the idea. He had learned not to make assumptions where Dee was concerned. Just because he had made love to her twice didn’t mean she would regard him as her lover, that she wouldn’t fight him next time. And even if she didn’t put up a fight about that, she would still resist with every stubborn inch of her against allowing him into any part of her life beyond that.
But for now she was sleeping in his arms, and he was exhausted from a physical satisfaction that went bone deep. He held her closer, made utterly content by the feel of her warm, sleek body lying naked against him, and he drifted off to sleep himself.
The sun was going down when Dee woke. For a moment she was totally disoriented, without any sense of what time or what day it was. She never slept during the day, but from the angle of the sun she knew it wasn’t dawn. She was too groggy to make sense of it until she woke up enough to realize that she wasn’t alone in the bed. That in itself was startling, for she had never before shared her bed with anyone, but then full reality hit her with stunning force. She was in bed with Lucas, and they were both naked because he had made love to her.
She didn’t feel ashamed; her nature was too elemental for her not to be aware of the naturalness of the act. But she did feel a strong need to retrench her position, to reestablish herself as an individual after the mindless giving of her body. It was as if he had taken over control of her when he thrust his thick shaft inside her. She had fought against the natural domination of it even as her traitorous flesh had begun shivering with delight around him.
She shifted cautiously, feeling the unaccustomed soreness in her thighs and loins, and the movement made her aware of the stickiness between her legs. Another wave of reality hit her full in the face. Twice Lucas had emptied his seed deep inside her. He might have made her pregnant.
As women had done for thousands of years, she counted the days until her next monthly flow. It would be over two weeks until she knew, two weeks of fear and worry, because her life would be impossible if she were to have a baby.
Lucas pulled her closer and lazily cupped her breast, his big hand possessive. She hadn’t realized he was awake until he did so, and she quickly looked up but immediately lowered her gaze from the hard, gleaming triumph in his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a deep, lazy rumble against her hair.
“That we can’t do this anymore.” She looked up at him again, her expression a little haunted.
That look on her face stilled his automatic rise of anger. “Why not, sweetheart? You liked it, didn’t you?” He stroked her hair back from her face.
“You know I did,” she said steadily. “But now I might have a baby.”
He paused, a slight frown gathering his brows. A baby. In the savage delight of possession he hadn’t given a thought to the possible consequences.
“When will you know?”
“About two weeks. A little more.”
He stroked her breast, enthralled by the satiny texture of it. She was his now, damn it, and he wasn’t going to give her up. “There are ways to keep you from getting pregnant.”
“I know,” she said tartly. “All I have to do is stay away from you.”
He smiled and kissed her, his mouth rough on hers. “Other than that. I’ll get a sponge for you.”
She was instantly curious. “What do you mean? How can a sponge keep me from having a baby?”
“I don’t know how it works, I just know it does. It’s just a little sponge, and you soak it in vinegar and put it up inside you.”
Her cheeks flamed, and she jerked upright, away from his exploring hands. He laughed and grabbed for her, wrestling her back down on the bed. She wasn’t fighting in earnest, only huffy and embarrassed by the notion, and he grinned as he subdued her.
“How did you learn about anything like that?” she snapped, glaring at him. “It’s a whore’s trick, isn’t it?”
“I imagine whores would know about it, but other women use it, too.” He didn’t answer her question about how he knew about it. He’d had some wild times in New Orleans and other places, but she didn’t need to know about them.
Dee turned her head away from him because she knew full well he had learned about such a thing from other women. Part of her was relieved that there was a solution, but part of her, like a child, wanted to retreat to the way things had been before this afternoon, when she had been unaware of the way her body could respond to his, before she had felt his hard length plunging into her. Things had changed, and she couldn’t change them back.
The question, of course, was if she really wanted to change them. She felt as if she had leapt headlong over a cliff in the dark. It was frightening, taking her to places she hadn’t known before. If she truly wished the changes undone she would have to wish Lucas out of her life, wish he had never ridden up to her door, and she couldn’t do that. As infuriating as he was, as determined to have his way, he made her feel more than she had ever imagined possible.
She was very much afraid she had fallen in love with him.
9
OLIVIA HAD TO FORCE HERSELF TO ATTEND THE DANCE that night. Lucas was absent, and she knew people were whispering about it, but his absence was the only bit of relief she could find. Because of their strange talk about Dee, Olivia suspected he had gone out to the farm. She mentally crossed her fingers, for if Dee were ever to marry it would have to be to a man like Lucas, someone as strong as she was. Dee would totally cow most men; she could never be happy with someone who didn’t match her in strength. Olivia wondered if perhaps she was wishing away her own last chance to be married, but at least she wouldn’t be faced with the nerve-racking decision of whether or not to accept Lucas if he proposed. Now it looked as if he wouldn’t, and she was glad.
But Lucas wasn’t her real concern. All she could think about was what had happened in the woods. She didn’t know how she had gotten through the day. Her nerves felt so frayed she thought she would scream if she had to smile at one more person. She couldn’t look her mother in the face. Honora had raised her to be a good, decent woman, yet at the first opportunity she had let a strange man lead her into the woods and take liberties with her. Not just kisses; she had once supposed a kiss to be a daring thing, but now she knew the respectful pecks on the lips she had received before had been as chaste as a brother’s. She had not only accepted Luis’s tongue into her mouth, she had delighted in it, actually participated. No wonder he had thought he could touch her breasts! He must suppose her to be as immoral as the saloon girls, for she certainly hadn’t conducted herself as a lady ought.
She could barely attend to any of the conversation around her, so she became even quieter than usual, her face pale with distress. Everyone was having such a good time that no one noticed, except for Luis, standing on the edge of the crowd, watching her.
It so unnerved her that when Kyle Bellamy approached and asked her to dance Olivia had placed her hand in his before she realized what she was doing.
His hand on her waist drew her closer to him than she wished to be; after this afternoon she was acutely aware of a man’s body. She wondered with sudden horror if Luis had bragged to his boss about his success with her. Would that be why Kyle assumed he could hold her so close?
She stiffened in his arms. “Mr. Bellamy, please.”
“I’ll please you in any way I can.”
She couldn’t decide if the remark was suggestive or merely flirtatious, and at the moment she didn’t care. “You’re holding me far too close.”
He immediately loosened his grip and let her move back. “I apologize,” he murmured, but his smile made her suspect he wasn’t sorry at all.
Kyle danced well, his movements strong and sure. Under any other circumstances she might have put aside her instinctive uneasiness about him and enjoyed the dance, but tonight it was impossible. She could only pray it would be over soon.
“Would you like to walk outside with me?” he asked. “It’s a pleasant
night, and the air is stuffy in here. I confess I’ve been wanting a chance to talk to you, to get to know you better.”
“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bellamy, but I’m tired from this afternoon and would rather sit in here.”
“Then perhaps I may sit with you?”
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t be rude to the man, but she had no desire at all for his company.
“I plan to go home soon,” she said, desperately improvising.
“Then may I sit with you until then?”
God, he was persistent! What else could she do but say yes?
When they were sitting down he kept brushing his leg against hers, and Olivia twisted a bit to the side to prevent the contact.
“I’d like to call on you tomorrow,” he told her.
Her guilty conscience made her feel certain now that Luis had told him, and he obviously expected to enjoy the same liberties! She could think of only one excuse, and she hastily used it. “I don’t think that would be proper, Mr. Bellamy. I have an—an unspoken agreement with Mr. Cochran. I’m sure you understand.”
“If it’s unspoken, then I assume you’re still a free woman,” Kyle said boldly. “And I don’t see Cochran here tonight.”
“No. He—he had business elsewhere.”
“A man who would desert a lovely woman like you doesn’t deserve her.”
Luis watched the byplay from across the room and could easily imagine the conversation he couldn’t hear. He didn’t like the way Bellamy was leaning so close to Olivia, and from the frozen expression on her face she didn’t care for it either but didn’t know how to stop him.
Olivia glanced in his direction and froze. She couldn’t help looking his way, and every time she did she found him watching her. Her distress grew, because she imagined his black eyes held disdain. After all, what else could he think after the way she had behaved?