Groaning, she arched. She clutched his bare, sweat-slicked shoulders. Her fingers moved over the puckered, roped scars on one shoulder, a stark reminder of how close she had come to never experiencing such passion. Such beauty. Her breath hitched, and she tightened her hold as if she could keep him safe.
His hand moved almost reverently over her skin, caressing her waist, her belly, slipping her gown up her legs. She shivered as his body eased down hers, his mouth moving from her breasts, to her belly, and then still lower. He pressed wet, sultry kisses along the line of her thigh, the ticklish feel of his soft lips on her sensitive skin incredibly arousing.
She closed her eyes, her body a piece of clay that Daniel was molding to his will, coming alive under his touch. He had a bit of the artist in him after all.
Her eyes snapped open when he ventured to places she was not ready for him to explore. “No, no, stop,” she gasped, her fingers yanking his hair.
Grunting, he blinked at her, his eyes dilated. “What is it? What is wrong?” His voice was gravelly.
“We need to slow down. I need to slow down.” She bit her lip. “Please.”
When he registered her plea, he cupped her cheek in his hand. “It’s all right, Julia.” He kissed her, gently, a small taste. “Let me pleasure you.” He kissed the side of her mouth. “I will not take things too far, I promise.” He slid lower to assault her neck with those tender, light butterfly kisses that had her limbs turning to jelly.
His hand had returned to slide between her thighs, his fingers finding the most sensitive part of her.
“I will not hurt you. I will never hurt you,” he murmured, and his mouth returned to capture hers.
His tongue parried with hers as his fingers slid inside her and moved with the same erotic skill as his tongue. Good lord, it was indecent. Sinful. And so exhilarating. She writhed against his hand, needing him to stop. Needing him to continue. An explosive need grew in her, climbing to a fevered pitch.
“Are you all right?” Daniel panted against her lips.
Her eyes flew open. He asked her now?
His laugh was guttural. “I think you’ve answered. Let go, Julia.”
Her lips parted. His fingers became more persistent, and something built inside of her. The pressure grew until she arched against him, her fingers curling around his upper arms, her nails digging into hard muscle, needing to hold on to something as her body came unmoored. The heat climbed to a feverish pitch, and she moaned.
Daniel’s breathing was hoarse and ragged, his desire rising to match hers.
His hard arousal pressed against her leg and the sounds of his own passionate response, his heavy breaths, ignited the fire growing within her. A cry escaped her with the sudden burst of her release. Stunned, she collapsed, lay still and dazed, blinking up at Daniel, her body a puddle of satisfaction. She had never experienced anything like it before. Wondered if that was what she had been yearning for all her life?
Daniel gathered her into his arms, his hand brushing back strands of hair stuck to her temple. His lips pressed there. “Ladies go first. It is proper etiquette.”
His breath was warm against her temple, and she closed her eyes, mortified at how outrageously she had behaved. They lay that way, intimate and entwined until her world righted itself.
Daniel had brought her to places she had never been, but had secretly wished to go. He had ruined her, thoroughly now, or at least for any other man.
Let me love you, Julia.
And she had. But he did not love her. She pushed against his chest.
“I have to go.”
“Julia, it is all right, we are going to be married. This is natural between a husband and a wife. What goes on between us, what we feel, it is not wrong.”
But he did not feel what she felt. She had asked him to love her, and he had said, I will, not I do. He wanted her. He desired her. But he did not love her.
She stared at his face, the candlelight highlighting the perfect symmetry of his features, those incredible green eyes entreating. She wondered if that could be enough. If this passion they shared was enough to sustain a marriage. It was more than she had felt for Edmund.
She did not know. Could not think with him staring at her so, the heat of him still warming her. She tugged feebly at her gown, drawing it closed. “Please, I must go.”
He stared at her in silence and then with a sigh, rose to his feet. He combed his hand through his tousled hair. He stood, bare chested but for his bandage, his breathing deep and fast, as if he had run a small race.
With shaking fingers, she drew her robe together and belted it. Her legs trembled when she rose to her feet. She shoved her curtain of hair from her face.
“Julia, it’s all right.”