Home>>read The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 free online

The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(306)

By:Sorcha MacMurrough


"You're not afraid, Arabella? Tell me the truth."



She nuzzled his cheek, never once opening her eyes. "This is all so wondrous and new. But when we're like this together, it feels as though we're made for each other. Like I never want anything to separate us. But this can't be real. It's so different from the way we were before. I can't believe-"



"Can I try to make it even better?"



"Yes. I'm not afraid."



"Perhaps I am," he admitted.



"You? Why?" she asked, continuing to plant light kisses all over his throat. "You've done this before, I'm sure."



"But never like this. This is all so wonderful, too good to be true. I want to preserve and cherish this moment forever, yet I know there is so much more awaiting us."



"Just let it wash over you then, enjoy it the way I am," she advised with a throaty chuckle, unfastening more of his shirt front.



"Oh, Arabella." His hand continued to tease her pert nipples, but now he lifted the hem of her gown and slipped his other hand upwards along her silk-clad leg.



With the warmth of his hand came an increase in the pressure in the pit of her belly. She allowed her knees to fall open, granting his hand unimpeded access to her cotton and lace drawers. He found the gap between her stockings and the edge of the lace and stroked it lightly.



She shivered and kissed him ardently, spreading her legs and arching her hips toward him. Once again, it was almost too tempting to resist.



Almost. For he knew he had tricked and deceived her, pretended to be Adam when he should not have. But he never would have found out the truth about what had happened between them otherwise. He did not think he could have easily lived with the jealousy which had wracked him ever since Adam and the other men she had been friendly with had come into their lives.



He loved Arabella, needed her. He loved her, and could not let her go no matter how much common sense and the dictates of society told him he had to.



At the same time, though, Blake knew full well the storm he was inviting down upon his own head by persisting in this folly. This madness. For the sensations coursing through him, the nameless desires giving rise to all sorts of fevered imaginings, could not be normal.



He wanted to bury his turgid flesh so deeply within her as to make her powerless to do anything other than beg him to take her again and again. He wanted her to say his name. Kiss him tenderly, tell her she wanted to please him in every way. She would laugh and smile, cradle him against her bosom and tell him how much she loved him. How much his love meant to her.



But for the moment there were quite a few barriers between them, not least of which was her underclothing. He knew he should not even be thinking about her in this way, not in the library, in the middle of the ball, when they were once more on the brink of war, but her fingers had already begun to undress him and Blake couldn't resist touching her more.



He worked his way up past the lace and felt Arabella's delicate softness, felt her damp heat almost begging him to quench his own fires inside her.



She groaned as he caressed her gently, inserting one large finger until she squirmed and panted in the throes of the most exquisite passion. He gently withdrew his hand, but she was growing desperate and grasped his shirt and began to tug it out of his trousers.



He knew he was going to have to face the consequences now. He couldn't simply walk away. He couldn't press on without some sort of explanation, confession on his part. But could he dare ask her to become his in every way? Tonight of all nights? Was it too soon? Not soon enough…



"Please, more. It's wonderful. Your hands-"



"Darling Arabella, before I touch you, I must confess something. I need to tell you how much I have always ardently admired and loved you. I've tried to restrain myself. Told myself you're a delicate little flower, a rose without thorns. I want nothing more than to take you into my bed and give you joy," he said, showering her face and throat with kisses.



"But it's your first time. We shouldn't spoil things with a rushed and ill-advised coupling on a floor or sofa in a place where anyone can walk in at any moment to find us. I'm being completely candid with you now, in the hopes that you can forgive me for what I've done in the past, and have done now. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted in this lifetime. But I need to give you one last chance to change your mind."



"I don't want to change my mind," Arabella insisted, smothering his face with kisses. "In your arms like this, we belong together. You heart does speak to mine, your soul. I feel at one with you. I can't explain it. But whenever you touch me, all of my questions and doubts are answered in an instant."