He leaned over her, surrounding himself in her scent, and he could barely take in the fact he’d begun to undress her.

He wanted to rip the clothes from her body, he wanted her so much, but he took his time undressing her. He pressed little kisses to every inch of skin he revealed, and he loved the astonishment and eagerness he read on her face.

Only when she lay before him naked did he step back. He stood looking at her, but in the shadow cast by the canopy he could not read her features. He noted that as he stood staring she began to grow self-conscious and her hands moved to cover herself, but he reached out and stopped her.

“You are so verra beautiful,” he whispered.

She took a deep breath and her nipples quivered deliciously. Her hands moved to lie flat on the bed.

She was a vision. Innocence and sin packaged and presented just for him. The gift of what she offered staggered him and a moment of doubt crept in.

He did not deserve this.

As if sensing his hesitation she declared, “Only you. I trust only you.”

In a trice he came down to the bed, running his hands over her silken skin, starting with her long and beautiful legs. He nuzzled her throat, nipped at her collarbone, and licked the soft indentation at the base of her throat.

At first she lay stiff beneath his touch, but like an unbroken colt, she relaxed under his soft touch and endearments. He stroked her hair, then began to run his fingers through the fair locks, scattering hairpins over the bed.

“You have beautiful hair, it’s like spun gold,” he muttered, lifting a handful of the silken mass and brushing it against his cheek. He took a deep breath and prayed he’d have the strength to wait. He wanted to teach her the dizzy heights of anticipation. How good it felt to be touched and to return that touch.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered.

“I want you more than my next breath, but I’m conscious that this is your first time and you deserve my patience when all I really want is to bury myself in you.”

Her face flushed with color and he balanced himself on his arms above her. He relished the fact that she was not small and delicate. She was a woman made for loving, and his desire to claim her was making him dizzy.

“The feeling is utterly mutual, I assure you,” she almost purred in his ear.

He saw that she’d finally begun to believe in the depth of his want. That he was not taking her to his bed because he felt sorry for her.

So he moved on in her tutelage. He kissed down her body, paying homage to her breasts and rosy, pink nipples. He suckled one deep into his mouth, laving it with his tongue until she squirmed beneath him.

The delightful little gasps she made saw his control balance on a knife’s edge. He kissed down her stomach and pushed her legs wider so that he fitted between her thighs.

“Dougray, what are you doing?”

He softly and slowly ran his hands over her stomach circling lower and lower toward her womanhood. He brushed her mons and she tensed. Then he brushed again, this time lingering in the task, tracing little swirling patterns over her hips, pelvic bone, and then lower, and lower still, until his fingertip caressed the most sensitive part of her, gliding smoothly, finding her little hardened nub.

“Dear Lord. What . . .”

He looked into her flushed face and said, “Sssh, my beauty. The first time is all about giving into the passion. Just let yourself experience the sensations. The second time will be about finding answers to your questions.”

“Second time,” she asked in wonder.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed until morning.”

Her pupils sparkled and her lips parted on an “Oh!” of wonder and delight as he ran a finger down over her woman’s lips, which were already wet for him.

He couldn’t wait to taste her.

“Look at me, Emma.”

Emma couldn’t look away if she tried.

“Remember, trust in me and enjoy,” Dougray intoned, his burr a whisky-rich brew of sensuality and command.

She raised herself to her elbows to see the dark hair on his head so close to her private place. Her breath jumped in her throat. The sight was indescribably erotic, so deliciously sinful, and when his tongue licked her she almost came off the bed. Awareness pulsed in the tips of her breasts and between her legs where he lay.

He looked up at her as he ran his tongue over her a second time.

“You taste like my favorite dessert.”

Her eyelids slid half closed. She shivered as she felt his hot breath and tensed waiting for the next contact of his tongue on her.

This time he suckled her nub and she let out a cry. She panted a little, closing her eyes to better give herself over to the wicked sensations created by his tongue.

“Lie back,” he commanded harshly, his breathing becoming ragged.

The urgency in his voice saw her comply. Besides, her arms were shaking so much she could barely hold herself up.

* * *

His large hand cupped her bottom, his fingers now joining his clever tongue, and Emma wondered if she’d survive the bombardment of sensations wracking her body.

Then he set about showing her exactly what his talented tongue and fingers could do. His arm lay across her hips holding her in place. She could do nothing but lie back and get swept away by a tidal wave of sensation.

Her hips rose of their own accord, intuitively seeking more. One knee fell to the side, blatantly opening her completely to his ministrations.

She let the sensations feed her lonely soul. She could not help it. The intimacy of his kiss, and touch, made her shuttered heart crack open. She was too lost in the joy of what she was sharing with the man she loved to warn herself that this was only one night. She pushed away the thoughts of what she would have to pay when this was over.

She’d have memories and oh, my God, what sweet, wonderful memories they would be.

His finger entered her and her ability to think fled.

His finger was joined by another. Her head spun, the earth whirled, and her eyes opened seeking him, finding eyes as dark as sapphires riveted on her face, a sheen of moisture making his skin gleam like polished marble.

She saw the need shining there but still he held back.

“It will likely hurt the first time but I’ll go slow.”

She swallowed and nodded, she would have begged if she’d had to. She wanted him to claim her. To be her first and only lover.

She heard rather than saw him fumble with the closing of his breeches.

“I want to see you, like you see me.”

He stopped and a flicker of pain crossed his face as he breathed in deep.

Her face flushed with color but she didn’t care if she sounded wanton, hell, she’d all but begged him to take her to his bed.

In one swift graceful movement he rose from the bed and shrugged off his jacket. She sat up and beckoned him with her little finger. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “I want to help.” What she really wanted was to touch him. Learn him. Imprint him on her memory.

He stood beside the bed and she rose to her knees to unknot his cravat. Helping him take off his clothes seemed far more intimate than having his mouth on her had.

He pulled his linen shirt over his head and she followed its path with her fingers. They trailed over muscles and wiry black chest hair.

All her thoughts centered on him. He was all male. His chest was broad and solid muscle. This time she let her fingers dance down his torso, following the fine dark hair that tapered where it grew lower on his stomach. Her mouth watered waiting to see what lay under those tented breeches.

He held her gaze while peeling off his breeches and smalls. She was held speechless and she almost forgot to breathe. His flat stomach gave way to rippled muscles round his sculptured hips but what gave her the first cause for concern was the thick swollen member straining proudly erect.

She swallowed and tentatively reached out to touch him. She ran her finger down the magnificent length of him and it jumped. She grew bolder and she wrapped her hand round him. He was hard and pulsed in her hand but the skin was silky smooth. She saw a drop of liquid at its tip and she rubbed her thumb over it and Dougray groaned. She let go.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes and no. I’m barely controlling myself letting you explore me. It feels so good it hurts.” He reached for her hand and brought it back to his body. “I love how you explore.”

He watched her as she indulged her fantasy. She cupped his sacs and watched sweat form on his brow as she gently squeezed. When she caressed his buttocks he looked as if he wanted to devour her, or consume her. She worked her way back to his huge erection and her trepidation grew with her desire.

He read her like a book, his half smile lifting the corners of his mouth, his dimples adding to the air of cockiness. When she wrapped her fingers back around his erection his smile widened with a hint of purring masculine self-assurance in it.

He knew he was a magnificent specimen of manhood.

And he was oh, so right.

He didn’t give her time to do any more thinking. He knelt next to her on the edge of the bed and gently pushed her onto her back. He let his body press her into the mattress and she reveled in the feel of naked flesh to naked flesh. His hardness to her softness.

He found her hands and locked his fingers with hers and drew them up over her head. It made her breasts press into his chest and her nipples ached where his chest hair abraded them.

She waited as he used his knees to spread her wide beneath him and his erection probed between her thighs.

“Thank you,” she said and she pressed a kiss to his lips.

He held still above her and they simply stared at each other. Then he took her lips in a bruising kiss while his fingers found her woman’s nub and soon she was squirming beneath him, all thoughts gone. All she could focus on was the sensations gripping her body.

Her hands sank into his thick curls holding his head exactly where she could deepen the kiss, battling for some control.

She dug her feet into the mattress, lifting her hips to demand—nay, beg—for what she was not sure.

All her body recognized was that she wanted him in her.

As if he was reading her mind, she felt his cock, like a brand of heat and incredibly hard, probe her entrance where his fingers had suddenly left her.

Please God let him take me now. And she almost cried out in frustration when he kept kissing her but did not enter her.

She sent her hands flowing down his back, savoring the solid steel of muscles bunching beneath her palms, to grip his buttocks, trying to drag him closer.

“Patience, my beautiful Emma.” But he grasped his hard shaft and slowly, teasingly moved the swollen head between her slick folds, swiping it several times over her sensitized nub until she thought she’d faint with need. At the same time he sucked one nipple deep within his mouth and as he bit down lightly her world exploded behind her eyelids. She cried out, and as her body was swamped with delicious, exquisite ripples of pleasure, he thrust deep inside her.

She bucked and drew in a deep breath as pain sliced through her pleasure.

He held himself still and showered her face and chest and breasts in kisses.

The pain subsided and it was only when her eyes flew wide open that she realized she was gripping his hair, almost pulling it from his scalp. She quickly loosened her grip.

“Tell me I still have hair,” he joked.

“That did not hurt that much, the pleasure you gave me helped. When can we do it again?”

A chuckle rose deep in his chest. “We haven’t finished this time, my sweet.” With that he pulled himself out and then slowly pushed back in.

He was still as hard as rock and her body welcomed him into its heat.

“Raise your hips to meet me,” he whispered harshly.

She obeyed gladly and a cry of discovery broke in her throat. The sensation of him moving in and out of her made her body soften, made her seek his hardness, and the pleasure began to rise deep within her once more.

Her body knew what to do in this dance that was as old as time. Each thrust and counter thrust drew a tightening response from her body. Soon her eyes had to close as sensations bombarded her once more.

Dougray played her body like a maestro. Each thrust and counter thrust in perfect accord. His thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, and her body was at fever pitch. She greedily reached for some point in the tunnel ahead, beckoning, urging, and promising more magic.

Her eyes flew open when Dougray grasped her leg, hooking her knee above his hip. She needed no further encouragement her other leg rose and gripped his flanks as he increased the depth and tempo of his possession. She turned her head to stop herself from screaming out his name. His muscles bulged in his arms, the veins prominent, and his skin flushed with exertion.

Sparks began to form before her eyes, sensations, glorious sensations spiraled around her, until she was giddy with the joy of unbridled pleasure. A pleasure almost too intense. He surrounded her. Was in her. Was part of her . . . was with her . . .

This is what she assumed love felt like.

The giving of oneself, giving everything down to her soul.

Waves of sensations coiled tighter and tighter, and she wanted to look into his eyes. To see herself a he saw her in this moment.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he once more found her nipple and suckled.

She could not take any more and she let go, let her body become one with his. Sparks flew and pleasure rolled like thunder through every inch of her body. Wave upon wave consumed her, streaming molten satisfaction and filling her heart until she could barely breathe.

She screamed his name. “Dougray!”

Through her haze of pleasure she heard his cries, her name on his lips, and it was the most wonderful sound as another ripple of pleasure hit.

He planted his hands on either side of her and rose above her like a powerful god of war. Dark, dangerous, but so intoxicating that she almost wept. He drove himself fully into her and then he was gone, his seed shooting from his body onto the sheets between her thighs as his shout of release echoed in the dimly lit bedchamber.