He kept her hand pressed snug, dragging her palm over his full length. His organ throbbed and strained beneath her touch. “It’s for you, Susanna. For your pleasure.”

“Good heavens. All of it?”

He chuckled low and kissed her neck. “Yes, all of it. It’s made to fit inside you.”

Leaving his manhood in her grasp, he let his own hand drop to the hem of her shift. He gathered the light, thin fabric and eased it up to her thigh, skimming his fingers along the sensitive hollow of her knee. Then his hand delved between her legs, spreading her thighs apart. His fingers found her warm, wet intimate flesh. As he traced the contours of her sex, gently exploring and teasing her apart, a low moan pulled from her chest.

“This”—he ground his erection against her hand—“belongs here.” His finger slid inside her, giving her an exquisite sense of fullness and bliss. “It’s as simple as that.”

As simple as that.

So this was coupling, as he understood it. An uncomplicated, natural act. A mutual sating of needs and desires. They were made for this. His body belonged inside hers.

He pumped his finger in a slow rhythm, plunging a fraction deeper with every stroke. Though she’d just experienced a wrenching climax minutes ago, her arousal built at an astonishing pace. Soon she was arching her hips to meet his clever fingers, stroking her hand over his arousal in time with his thrusts. He kissed her thoroughly, forcing her jaw wide and delving deep with his tongue. She struggled to reciprocate, tasting and teasing him with voracious hunger. He growled his approval against her lips.

He slid his finger from her aching cleft, and she whimpered at the sudden loss. Her complaint was swiftly addressed, however, when he moved atop her, nestling between her thighs. She had to spread her legs wide to accommodate his hips—an act which drew her feminine mound snug against his hardness. He rocked against her in just the right place, and pure, bright pleasure shimmered through her veins.

He framed her face in his big hands. His gaze was dark and hungry as a wolf’s. “Do you want me, Susanna?”

She couldn’t dissemble. Her body made an answer of its own, as her hips tilted and arched, rubbing sinuously against his arousal. “Yes.”

He didn’t move. “Yes?”

Another man would have taken her at her first answer, if he’d bothered to ask at all. But he wanted to be absolutely certain she wanted this, too. If she’d harbored any lingering reluctance, his thoughtful concern dissolved it.

Yes, she wanted this. Not just this. She wanted him. Perhaps she would never marry. Perhaps she would never know true, lasting love with a man. But she wanted to explore passion and pleasure, and she wanted it to be with Bram. In all her five-and-twenty years, no man had ever made her feel this way. She might be waiting another five-and-twenty to experience this wonderful yearning again.

“Yes,” she said again.

Still, he hesitated. “We shouldn’t. Not tonight. Your first time really should be in a bed. What’s more, that bed should be a marriage bed, for a girl like you.”

“I never planned to marry at all. And as for beds . . .” She looked up at the willow branches sheltering them, and the scattered stars twinkling through. A more romantic setting couldn’t exist. “Everyone has beds. I’ll take this. So long as—” She cleared her throat. “You will be careful, won’t you? At the end. I shouldn’t want to get with child.”

“I can be careful. But you should know, there’s always a chance.”

“I know. I’m willing to take the risk, if you are.”

“To be with you?” He kissed her lips. “I’d risk a firing squad.”

Her heart turned over in her chest. “Then yes. To all of it.”

This time, he took her at her word. With one hand he impatiently pushed her shift higher, baring her abdomen and her left breast. He paused a moment, just looking.

“So beautiful.”

The words rushed over her skin on a hot, ragged breath, drawing her nipple to a tight pucker. He bent his head and suckled her, drawing the aroused peak deep into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip. As he sucked and licked, the rough fringe of his whiskers scraped over her tender skin. Her every nerve attenuated, drawing tense and thin with the mounting pleasure.

“Touch me,” he urged, between swipes of his tongue. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

Susanna had never been happier to take his direction. She reached down, yanking his shirt free of his waistband and sliding both palms beneath it, exploring the smooth, muscled planes of his back. Then she wiggled a hand between their bodies, searching for the closures of his trousers. With an eager tilt of his hips, he aided her search. She undid the buttons on one side of the flap, working her fingers inside.

Oh. My.

Her senses were overwhelmed. The heat and weight of him, filling her grip. His needy groan of encouragement, buzzing around her nipple.

She stroked gently, as much as the cramped circumstances would allow, skimming her palm along his length and marveling at the texture. Like ridged velvet over heated iron. So smooth and so strong.

This belongs inside me. Her intimate muscles clenched at the thought.

“I can’t wait,” he said, abandoning her breast. “I can’t wait any longer.”

She released her grip on him as he pushed her shift higher, bunching the fabric under her arms. His erection wedged hot and eager between their bodies. He thrust against her bared sex, teasing up and down her cleft. The intense pleasure left her breathless, mindless.

“Last chance,” he said through gritted teeth, changing his angle and tilting her hips. “If you don’t want this, Susanna . . .”

The feral snarl of his lips gave her a heartbeat’s pause. He was right, this was the most vital, undeniable force in nature. Her whole body craved release, possession. The power of the moment was almost too much.

“I want this,” she managed. “I want you.”

Seventeen

“Then I’m yours,” Bram whispered, nudging into her heat, just an inch. Rapture chased along the surface of his skin. “Take me. Take me in.”

He worked into her slowly, in steady, deepening thrusts, putting most of his weight on his good knee and forcing himself to be patient as her body learned to accommodate his. She looked up at him with eyes so wide and unguarded, he could read her every emotion. He saw anxiety, trepidation. Understandable, as this was her first time. But there was trust as well, overwhelming her fear.

Overwhelming him.

With each exquisite, incremental advance, he offered words of encouragement and praise. “Yes, love . . . You feel so good . . . So good . . . Just like that . . . Just a bit more . . .”

As he sheathed himself fully with one last, unfettered thrust, she gave a pained gasp. His heart twisted in his chest. He hated to hurt her.

“Is the pain too much?”

She bit her lip bravely and shook her head no.

“Can—” Her body clenched around his, and he released a helpless groan of pleasure. “Can you bear it if I move?”

“Is moving necessary?”

He struggled valiantly not to laugh. “I think so, love. I . . . I have to move, or I’ll go mad.”

He slid out of her just a bit before plunging back in, even deeper than before. She was so warm and soft, and so damned tight. The pleasure had a keen, sweet edge. Balancing his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her flat, he worked his hips back and forth, gently. For what seemed like ages, he restrained himself to only the most easy, gliding, undemanding of motions. All the while, the need for fast, furious, pumping release clamored in his veins. He fought it back through sheer force of will. She deserved better than an animalistic humping. This was a precious gift she’d bestowed on him, and he didn’t want her to regret it. Not tonight. Not forty years from now.

“Is it better?” he asked.

“A little.”

A little. A little wasn’t enough. With a silent curse, he lowered his body to cover hers. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” she breathed. Her hands slid over his back, and her breasts molded beneath his chest, soft and warm. “I like this. I like having you so close to me.”

“So do I.”

As he slid into her the next time, her hips canted to meet his. She gave an encouraging moan. So he did it again. And again.

“That’s . . .” She arched again, riding his thrusts like a wave. “Oh, Bram. It’s so good now.”

Holy God, it was. It was so damned good now. The angle, the rhythm, the way her body fit and moved with his. They’d achieved true unison of bodies and purpose, and it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d never known he could so completely lose himself in a woman, and at the same time, feel he’d come home.

There was a world out there, somewhere beyond these willow branches. Oceans, mountains, glaciers, dunes. Somewhere, far away, wars were being waged. Bram could not have cared less. He didn’t want to be anywhere else but inside this woman, as deep as he could go. He had no purpose, no duty in this life other than to fill her and please her and make her gasp and moan and scream.

She was where he belonged.

He reached down to lift her leg and wrap it over his hip, and her body drew him deeper still. They kissed deeply, too. He took his time exploring her lush, generous mouth, marveling at how good it felt to claim her both ways at once. Tall as he was, with other women he couldn’t always kiss and thrust deep at the same time. But Susanna was his perfect match.

What their kisses lost in finesse, they gained in sensual urgency. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders, and the effect was that of a bee sting to a grazing bull. It drove him into a frenzy. His hips bucked as he pushed into her again and again, abandoning all gentleness, single-minded in his pursuit of her climax.

She had to come. She had to come first.

Which meant she had to come soon.

Please, Susanna. Please.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her head rolled back. Her pale swan’s neck stretched into an elegant, erotic curve, gleaming like quicksilver in the dark. So lovely, it made his heart ache.

“God, you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

Her body tightened around his, and she cried out. He rode the exquisite wave of her climax as long as he dared. And when he knew he couldn’t last another thrust without spilling, he pulled free of her tight, clasping embrace and took himself in hand. He spent his seed all over the sweet, rounded slope of her belly—not into a fold of his shirt or her shift, as might have been the more gentlemanly manner. In some primitive way, it satisfied him to mark her.

You’re mine now.

He lowered himself beside her, curling his body around hers and caging her with his limbs. The protective impulses swelling inside him were almost more than he could bear. They choked his speech for a moment.

“Are you well?” he asked, once he could manage words.

“Yes.” She nestled into his chest, and he tightened an arm around her, drawing her close. “Oh, Bram. I never dreamed it could be that way.”

Neither did I, he felt like saying. Neither did I.

He’d had his share of tumbles, and he’d always enjoyed them thoroughly. But it had never been like this. It seemed impossible that they’d grown so close, so fast. But here they were, and he wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else. He pressed a kiss to her hair and held it, inhaling deep of her sweet, fresh scent.

“We shouldn’t have done this,” he said, failing to muster any hint of regret.

“I know.” She sighed, sounding equally uncontrite. “But I’m so glad we did. It was lovely.”

“It was more than lovely. It was . . .” He grasped for another word and came up empty.

“Indescribable?” He heard the smile in her voice. “Yes. It was.”