Sam was enraged beyond anything he’d ever felt before. Enraged at her deceit and the great risk she took in meeting Edmund alone in a secluded alcove without his protection, enraged that he hadn’t chosen to follow her when he found her excuse to visit a perfume boutique for the third time in as many days entirely suspect, and mostly enraged at himself for feeling the most absurd, irrational jealousy he’d ever experienced.
He’d noticed her immediately as he stared out the window of their suite, his second-floor room facing the garden and its center arbor. He couldn’t miss her lavender gown among the greenery, and it had only taken seconds for his confusion to turn to shock when he laid eyes on his brother for the first time in a decade—close to her, baiting her, touching her with his hand. True, she’d batted it away, but the contact, the whispered words, the notion that they were together again, this time without his knowledge because she’d lied to him, left him shaken and, unbelievably, immensely scared of losing her.
He’d stunned her when he grabbed her arm the minute she returned from her little tryst and walked into the foyer, disregarding her surprise as he practically dragged her back to their suite without uttering a single word. She hadn’t bothered to protest, probably because she felt guilty, but more so because she’d have to be asleep not to detect the depth of his anger at her.
It wasn’t even eleven in the morning, but the second he saw her with Edmund, he’d made a final, everlasting decision. He was going to take her to bed. Right now.
He latched the door behind him quickly, then moved at once, past her, to close the open windows and lock them as well. The sky had darkened to almost black, the rainfall growing heavier by the minute, which would prove the perfect atmosphere for an afternoon of lovemaking. Inhaling a deep breath to calm the tension within him, he pivoted around to face her.
Fuming mad, her face flushed with indignation, she stood beside the floral sofa, glowering at him with hot defiance, hands on her hips as she struck a pose to intimidate him. He almost laughed.
“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.
He gazed into her eyes for a second or two, then began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to make love to you.”
She gasped, stepping back until her legs hit the edge of the sofa, her eyes widening to bright circles of complete mortification. “Absolutely not!”
“Oh, yes,” he drawled, beginning a slow saunter in her direction, turning his attention to his cuffs.
To her credit, she didn’t scream or try to run, which told him how shocked she was by his pronouncement—or just how badly she needed him, regardless of whether she realized it yet.
She scooted back along the edge of the sofa, away from him. “I—I refuse to give myself to anyone other than my husband.”
A reasonable argument, he decided, but it didn’t deter him in the least. “No more games, Olivia,” he said decisively.
She looked him up and down as he approached, her gaze lingering on his exposed chest as she clutched her hands at her breasts in a growing panic she couldn’t hide. “You’re insane,” she whispered with thick enunciation.
“Yes, I probably am,” he agreed, a smirk on his mouth. “I’m insanely crazy about you.”
She blinked, startled. “I’ll scream,” she muttered shakily.
He slowly shook his head. “No, you won’t.”
Thinking fast, she asserted, “You told me our first day in Paris that we would never be—”
“I lied,” he enunciated.
He stood directly before her now, her back against the door, her eyes shining pools of consternation, of worry and longing she probably didn’t even understand.
“It’s time, Livi,” he murmured, his tone gravelly and filled with conviction.
“You—” She licked her lips. “You wouldn’t dare force me.”
He didn’t know if he should laugh or be insulted. Pressing his thumb lightly on her mouth, he whispered, “I know you don’t believe I would. But it doesn’t matter because I won’t have to.” He rubbed the tip across her lips, back and forth. “You want me just as much.”
She started trembling. “You don’t know what I want,” she whispered.
That gnawed at him, tearing at that very minute part of him that made him fear she’d rather still be with Edmund.
In a dark, choked voice, he leaned over to whisper against her lips, “I’m not going to lose you now.”
And then he kissed her, not gently, but with a strong, quick need, disregarding her immediate response because he knew it wouldn’t last.
She squirmed against him initially, then tried to push him away with her palms to his chest.
He’d had enough. Without a word, he broke away from the kiss, took one look at the desire she tried to hide in her pinkened cheeks, the depths of her eyes, then leaned over and hoisted her onto his shoulder like a sack of grain.
“What the devil are you doing?” she wailed, shoving her palms into his back and pushing up hard in a fruitless attempt to free herself.
He ignored her meager desire to resist him, veering the two of them swiftly and with little effort toward his bedroom. Closing the door behind him with a shove from his foot, he walked straight to the bed, dumping her in a pile of lace and lavender silk atop the bright purple and green quilted coverlet.
He gazed down to her, watching with some amusement as she blew loosened hair from her mouth and brushed it off her cheek with her fingertips. “This is entirely inappropriate,” she sputtered, though she made no attempt whatsoever to move.
“In what way?” he goaded, suppressing a grin.
She stared at him as if he were daft. “It’s daylight, you idiot man,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Good.” He pursed his lips to keep from teasing her about her wickedly adorable innocence, kicking off his shoes then grasping his shirt as he pulled it from his shoulders and down his arms. “I want to see every delectable inch of you, so my timing couldn’t be better.”
She gasped, her mouth dropping open in absolute shock.
Very slowly, keeping his gaze locked with hers, he placed one knee on the bed, then his palms, gradually starting to inch toward her.
She reacted at once, pushing herself into the layer of thick pillows that rested against the wrought-iron headboard. “Do not come any closer to me, Samson. I’m warning you.”
He said nothing to that, just gave her a sly grin as he straddled her feet, pinning her to the spot with his knees atop her wide skirts.
“Sam, please, you’re not being rational,” she said matter-of-factly, attempting to reason with him.
He grasped one foot and pulled at her soft leather shoe until it came free, then he dropped it to the floor and worked on the other. “You know what, Livi? I don’t think I’ve ever been more rational in my entire life.”
She shook her head in small, brisk movements, trying again to push herself farther back into the pillows. “This isn’t right,” she argued, though her voice quivered as it began to dawn on her that he couldn’t be thwarted.
Discarding her other shoe, he very slowly began to run his palms over the arches of her silk-stockinged feet, to her ankles, caressing in circles, pausing only seconds before he grew bolder and pushed his fingers up and under her gown, his gaze never wavering.
“What—What are you doing?”
“I’m taking your clothes off,” he murmured.
“Oh, no you’re not.”
He grinned again. “Now who’s not being rational?”
She said nothing to that, just stared at him, mortified.
He caressed her calves with his palms. “Are you wearing a corset?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“I’ll assume that means no.”
She hadn’t made any attempt to flee, hadn’t fought him physically at all, but she would undoubtedly try his patience every step of the way. An effort, he mused, that would prove highly rewarding.
Leaning over, he gently kissed her stockinged toes, laying tiny pecks on the tips of each one, then the bottom of each foot.
“You can’t do that,” she barked out, trying to pull her legs under her gown, which she couldn’t possibly manage because he held them firmly with his palms.
Sam had only been with one other virgin, at the age of seventeen, and she had seduced him. This time—a far more meaningful time—he would have to be the initiator, a role he would savor minute by minute, demanding every bit of stamina he possessed to make him last until he slid himself inside of her.
“Even your stockings are scented,” he murmured, his lips grazing the balls of her feet.
She just continued to stare at him with wide, dazed eyes. “That’s because I keep them in a drawer of lilacscented sachets and—”
“Stop talking, Olivia,” he ordered in a whisper, his palms skimming her shins, his lips brushing her toes. And then he raised himself over her, his knees straddling her hips, and took her mouth with his.
She didn’t protest this time. Instead, she didn’t move, didn’t respond, hoping, he supposed, that he would find her cold and undesirable. Instead, it made him all the more anxious to win her compliance, her heart and mind.
He coaxed her softly into giving in to him, indulging the taste of her lips, the soft scent of spice on her skin, the supple feel of her body beneath his that he just barely touched with his bare chest. He kissed her over and over, tempting her with a promise of things to come, gently giving, never pushing, never insisting she respond, until finally he felt her ease into the bed as she started to relax.
He pulled back enough to view her face, now flushed a dewy pink, her lips red and moist, her eyes shimmering from a gradually expanding desire.
Keeping his gaze joined with hers, he shifted to his side a little and reached up to pull a lacy lavender sleeve from her shoulder.
“Sam…”
It was her last great effort, and he had to give her credit for trying so hard.
“Shh…” He leaned over and placed his lips on the warm, silky skin at her collarbone, sweeping them back and forth. “You’re so soft…”
“Please…” she whispered achingly.
And at that moment she gave in to him.
He lifted his head from her shoulder and took her mouth with his once more, kissing her deeply, feeling her open for him and reciprocate at last as she allowed him to taste her sweetness, his tongue invading her moist, hot mouth, probing, flicking across hers and then grasping it to gently suck. He moved his palm slowly across her bared shoulder to her neck, his fingertips caressing in feathery strokes, his thumb grazing her jaw.
His kiss intensified as his need grew, as he felt her respond to him with her own great longing, her breath coming quickly in short gasps. Lightly, he began to move his palm, crossing from her throat to her collarbone to her chest, and then lower still until he slipped it beneath the neckline of her gown, her chemise, and then closed it over one full, concealed breast.
She gasped against him, the slight sound from her mouth only fueling the fire within him, intensifying his determination. He began to knead her flesh beneath the fabric, flicking his thumb across her hardened nipple, then the pads of his fingers in slow, small circles.
She squirmed a little, not out of protest this time, but a need and a yearning for him to do more.
At last he pulled his lips away from hers, lifting himself a little to look down at her face.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing coming in rasps, her cheeks flushed with color. He continued to caress her breast, watching her closely, wallowing in her response.
“Livi…”
Her lashes fluttered as she lifted them, meeting his gaze with one of a growing, raging desire.
He raised his hand to her face and touched her cheek. “I’m going to undress you.”
The slightest hesitation crossed her features, and then she nodded negligibly, closing her eyes again.
He reached up to untie the simple lavender ribbon that pulled her hair neatly from her forehead and temples. It came free with ease, and then he ran his fingers through the silken tresses to loosen them so that her beautiful black hair cascaded around the smoothness of her face and neck.
Hoisting himself up on one elbow, Sam took hold of her shoulder and nudged her gently. “Turn on your side,” he directed with tenderness.
Silently, she complied, rotating her body so her back was to him and he could work through the six buttons that held the bodice of her silken dress together.
He promptly unfastened each one, then pushed his hand inside the fabric, caressing her bare back just above the edge of her cotton chemise with soft, wispy strokes from his fingertips.
She sighed long and low from the pleasure, the gentle tease, encouraging him in his pursuit. Lowering his mouth to her skin, he kissed her up and down, brushing his lips and the tip of his nose back and forth, exhaling warm, moist air that made gooseflesh rise. Then with perfect calculation, he gradually ran his tongue up her spine from the lowest point until he reached her neck.
She moaned quietly, entranced by the feel, and at last he shoved his hand beneath the top of her gown and pushed it over her shoulder, down the front of her chest, until his palm covered the bare flesh of her breast.
He groaned, his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her, flicking his tongue across her earlobe, leaving soft kisses on her neck and cheek as he began to knead her, to glide his fingertips over her taut nipple, pinching it gently then circling it slowly with his palm.
“Sam…” she murmured in aching sweetness.
“I’ve never felt anything as soft as you are,” he replied breathlessly in her ear. “Let me love you…”
A soft, throaty moan escaped her, and then she rotated back to face him, her gaze meeting his, searching, their beautiful blue depths pleading with him to fulfill every hope, her greatest desire.
She swallowed harshly, trembling, her expression bathed in an ocean of tender, sensuous emotion as she raised her hand and touched his face, her palm on his cheek, the tip of her thumb brushing against his lips.
He briefly closed his eyes to savor the feel of her devotion. Then very slowly he raised his lashes and focused on her carefully as he moved his hand so the back of it pushed against the top of her gown, lowering it inch by inch.
Her intense gaze never strayed. Her breathing quickened as her cheeks flushed with color anew when at last he grasped the neckline of her gown and chemise and pulled them down, first releasing one arm, then the other, until she lay exposed to him, nude to the waist.
He took in every part of her, from her tapered throat to her trim belly, his gaze fixed with hunger on her tight, rosy nipples, the tiny mole at the base of her right breast.
She remained still, watching him, yearning for his touch. Then with great restraint, and only a second’s hesitation, he lowered his mouth to one round peak, taking her nipple into his mouth.
She inhaled sharply, quivering, running her fingers through his hair to hold his head steadily against her.
He sucked her delicate flesh with care, flicked his tongue over the tight, hot tip, listening for her reaction, then feeling a sudden rush of his own desire as she whimpered and began to move against him.
He quickened his pace, gliding his tongue across her chest, to explore, to inhale the scent of her skin, to taste and feel and show her how much he needed to bask in her pleasure.
She gasped, moaning in satisfaction, and he gave as she begged with her body, taunting her with every caress, every brush of his tongue, every gentle squeeze of his palm, until her legs became restless beneath her skirts and she began to move her hips.
With her instinctive response for more, he shifted his body slightly so he could at last leave a trail of fine kisses down her stomach, pausing only once to flick his tongue over the tiny mole beneath her breast, stopping only when he reached her navel.
She whimpered, needing more, and finally he grasped the edge of her gown and chemise and started tugging them together over her hips.
Glancing at her face, he noticed her eyes squeezed shut, the back of one soft hand laying across her mouth as she mentally made herself ready for him to take in the beauty of her nude form.
She lifted her hips to guide him in his efforts as he ever so cautiously pulled at her gown until it gave way over the last restraint and released the most intimate part of her feminine curves for his view.
Sam swallowed harshly to control himself, his breathing and pounding heart.
He’d seen the naked female form many times in his adult life, but nothing in his past compared, or prepared him, for the vision he gazed upon now.
She was nothing short of breathtaking, from her silky, long black hair, to her round, aroused breasts, tapered waist, matted black curls between her legs, that part of her he so desperately wanted to kiss, to tease, to bury himself in, body and mind, never to depart.
He inhaled a deep, shaky breath, desperate to stroke her there, to build the passion within her over and over again. At that defining moment Sam realized he could never leave something so perfect, so precious, to be explored by anyone else.
Suddenly, she seemed to realize he’d paused in his lovemaking, and she instinctively lowered her arm to her breasts in a meager attempt to cover herself. He smiled, filled with an odd sense of serenity from the innocent gesture. And then he pulled the last bit of her clothing from her long, trim legs and tossed them on the floor beside the bed.
She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her shyness enchanting him even as he desired nothing more than her eagerness. But that would come later.
Moving up alongside her again, he leaned over to kiss her lips, her face and neck, his hand returning to her breasts, caressing with care should the passion in her start to ebb.
“Olivia,” he breathed against the soft skin of her face, “you are so much more than I dreamed…”
She whimpered again and he pulled back a little to stare down at her, one hand still teasing her breast, the other now resting at the edge of her forehead, his thumb tracing a line across her eyebrow. She still hadn’t looked at him, and he noticed with a sharp pull to his gut that her lashes were laced with tiny tear droplets.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, suddenly worried his attempt at seduction would fail.
She shook her head minutely. “I can’t help it,” she replied, squeezing her eyes even tighter. “I want you so much, but I’m so scared.”
The sublime astonishment he felt at that second would forever be etched in his memory.
Jesus, God.
With a shudder, he pulled his hand from her breast and placed his fingertips on her lips, watching her in wonder as she kissed them.
She’d confessed a fear of him, of the coming sexual act. And his greatest, overwhelming fear at that moment was that he was falling in love with her.
Jesus…
A powerful eruption of emotions rushed through him, startling him beyond comprehension. And then he leaned over and kissed her lashes, one at a time, saving him from divulging his feelings for her when he didn’t understand them completely himself.
She responded to the touch, drawing a deep breath before wrapping her free arm around his neck to hold him close.
He moved lower to take her mouth again with his, kissing her deeply, with every ounce of passion he possessed, giving her everything inside of him, showing her what she so desperately yearned to feel.
And then without reservation he lowered his hand to the curls between her legs, his fingers sliding through them toward the hidden paradise within.
Her legs tightened by instinct. “Shh…open for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth.
She answered his request, very slowly relaxing her knees, and before she could change her mind, he glided his fingers into the soft, warm folds, his chest tightening when she sighed and whispered his name, arching her hips to take him deeper.
Her slick wetness coated him. Sam ground his teeth and steadied his breathing to control himself, to stay his own release before he could manage to take his trousers off and satisfy her.
She started panting as he began to stroke her, moving her hips, matching his rhythm perfectly in search of surrender. And she would climax quickly. She was just so wet, so ready.
“Livi, love, you know I’m going to enter you, don’t you?” he asked, his lips against her ear, his tongue sucking the lobe, hoping to God he wouldn’t have to explain the act before he did it.
She nodded and whispered, “Yes…”
Relief flooded him, coupled with encouragement and a hot new wave of desire.
He continued to stroke her, very slowly, coaxing her into short quick breaths and soft whimpers as he swiftly lifted his hips and fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, loosening them and pushing them down his legs faster than he ever had before. He kicked them from his feet, then scooted up to her again, lying beside her at last, as exposed as she.
Her body felt so warm next to his, her desire near its peak as he leaned over to kiss her breasts again, to suck and caress and taunt, as he continued to stroke her, slipping briefly inside of her, then out again, as he rotated his fingers on the nub of her pleasure until she nearly cried out.
Finally, and in one rapid motion, he crossed one leg over hers so the tip of his rigid erection rested against her hip.
She gasped, jerking a little when she felt it, but he held her closely, wanting her to experience the depth of his need, to grow used to the feel of his intimate touch.
And then with a speed that defied his craving for prolonged arousal, he pulled his fingers from between her legs and lifted himself over her, taking her mouth with his in hot frenzy, his tongue invading her sweetness, searching, sucking, his breathing now as erratic as hers. He nudged her thigh with his knee until she spread her legs wide to allow him access, then he placed his hips between them, steadying his body above hers with his forearms flat on the pillow beside her head.
He cupped her cheeks with his palms, teasing her lips with his, her eyelashes and nose with soft pecks. Then he slowly raised his head to gaze down at her face.
“Look at me, Livi,” he urged in a breathless whisper.
She did as he bid her, her stunning blue eyes, glazed by desire, meeting his again for a final time before he would begin the invasion of her hot, tight sweetness and make her his own.
“Don’t be afraid,” he pleaded in a whisper, his voice raspy and thick.
She nodded negligibly, inhaling a shaky breath, her hands on his shoulders as she mindlessly skimmed his neck with her fingertips.
And with that, he placed the hard tip of his erection at the wet, hot center of her femininity, pausing for a second or two to steady himself.
“Sam,” she whispered, closing her eyes, leaning up to kiss him.
Her sweet, gentle acceptance was all he needed. Very slowly, he began to push himself into her, stopping at once when she tensed, her body going rigid with a gasp from her lips.
He stilled, sensing the discomfort. Waiting for her to relax, he continued to kiss her, not with frenzy, but a tender grazing of his lips to hers, pulling himself out a little to reach down and grasp one of her knees, lifting her leg to make his entrance easier.
She pushed her fingers through his hair, kissed him back through every soft moan, through every whimper of building need.
“Relax, Livi, love,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice strained with a losing effort to hold back.
She tried, he knew, to do as he asked, easing the tightness he felt in her hips and legs.
He began to slide into her once more, this time going deeper, feeling the moist hot walls inside of her give way to make room for him. It hurt her, he knew, and it pained him almost as much to know there was absolutely no way to avoid it. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, touching his lips as he kept them locked with hers, coaxing her along with him as he entered her, then pulled back, entered ever farther, going deeper with each stroke, taking him to the brink of oblivion.
“You feel so good…” he said through a strained whisper, his body tense as he tried his very best to restrain an immediate climax of his own.
She whimpered, arching her back when, for a final time, he entered her as deeply as he could then ceased all movement, giving her a few seconds to adjust to the fullness as the pain gradually eased.
She would never fully know just how much he treasured this moment between them, what it felt like for him to be inside of a woman for the first time in ten long years. The sensation overwhelmed him, and he swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut to control his emotions, to rejoice in the exquisite power she held over him without her awareness.
She kissed him then, his cheeks and brow, his lips and jaw, and the sweetness emanating from her expressed everything she couldn’t yet say to him in words, revealed just how much she’d longed for this moment, to feel him inside her for the very first time.
“God, Livi—”
“Give me everything…” she breathed against his skin.
He choked back a sob of pure ecstasy, gritting his teeth as he pulled out of her a little, putting his full weight on one arm so he could lift his body just enough to reach down between them to stroke her again with his fingers.
She arched her hips against him, her nails digging into his shoulders, the muscles inside of her urging him on as they bathed him in hot, wet sweetness.
She began to relax, to whimper, her head leaning back hard against the pillows as she turned herself over to the pleasure, as he stroked her steadily, increasing the pace, bringing her ever closer to her peak of fulfillment.
He remained motionless inside of her, knowing that if he thrust into her even once he’d lose himself and his determination to watch her come first, to escape in her release, to share it with her. His body broke out in perspiration as he tightened his jaw, concentrating on her and what she needed.
She writhed beneath him, urging him on, her fingers clinging to his shoulders as he stared down to her beautiful face, feeling everything, sensing her moment of climax as it neared.
Suddenly she gasped and jerked once. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him.
“Yes, my love…Come for me…”
And then she screamed, cutting into his skin with her nails, arching into him as she cascaded over the edge.
He didn’t even have to move. Each wave of her pleasure, each pulse from within as she tightly encased him, took him instantly to the brink of paradise.
Sam stared at the beauty that was her, that was his—and then it hit him hard.
He exploded inside of her, his head falling back as he grunted through clenched teeth with each thrust he could no longer control, through the intensity of an ultimate satisfaction that shook his body, that merged his heart with hers as a sharing of one, in a rush of pure joy that fulfilled his every dream.