“Do you want me to stop?”
Lucia didn’t have to guess at the amount of effort it took for him to utter those words and mean them. She could feel the tension in his arms, his body.
Lucia wriggled, trying to adjust to the feel of him, his body between her legs, his chest rubbing against her breasts. She moved again and felt a spasm of pleasure.
“Lucia,” he moaned.
She moved slowly, pushing upward, then gasped at the feeling it created. “No, don’t stop.”
He groaned and thrust upward, deeper into her. She cried out with joy as he moved first slowly, then faster; thrust deep and hard, then gently and skillfully.
Her hands were in his hair, clawing at him, and she found herself matching his thrusts, his rhythm, then arching against him and gasping his name, unaware of anything but Alex surrounding her, overwhelming her.
Chapter Sixteen
“Lucia,” Alex murmured, encircling her in the warm harbor of his arms. She heard the logs in the hearth crackle and opened her eyes. The flickering firelight cast their silhouettes on the walls.
Two shapes joined as one.
Alex pulled the bedclothes around them, tucking the material, still warm from their bodies and sweet with the scent of their lovemaking, around her. Lucia marveled at his sudden tenderness, so different from the wild, demanding man who had given her wave after wave of ecstasy a few moments before. She liked this new side of him and took full advantage of it, snuggling on his chest and tracing his muscles lightly with one finger. In this calm after the storm, her feelings were a jumble. She wanted to shout for joy and, at the same time, hide under the covers. That was a new feeling. She could count on one hand the times in her life she’d felt shy.
One feeling she could identify. She felt right. She belonged here with Alex, and try as he might to deny it, she knew he sensed it, too.
She should be ashamed of herself. She was engaged to be married, and only bad women made love to men they weren’t married to. She was truly past all hope of redemption because she didn’t feel any shame. Not even a twinge. She only felt warm and happy and loved.
Her eyes flew open. Love? Oh, Lord. Alex didn’t want to talk about love, and neither did she. It didn’t matter anyway. She was engaged to Dandridge, and she’d known being with Alex was only for tonight. Tomorrow he’d want another woman.
But she was with him now, and that was what mattered. She’d never known that she could feel these sensations. Alex had been with many other women, if his reputation was any indication. Women far more experienced in lovemaking than she.
She emerged from her cocoon again. “Alex?” Her voice squeaked, and she swallowed.
“Hmm?” His voice was a sleepy rumble in her ear. Good. Somehow half asleep he seemed more vulnerable, more approachable.
“You’ve been with many women, haven’t you?”
He started awake. “What?”
She quickly tucked her forehead under his jaw, feeling her body go warm with embarrassment.
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” His voice was hard, gruff. So much for approachable.
“Neither do I,” she said quickly. “I was just wondering if I—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I mean, did I—” Oh, why was she such a coward? Now he was going to be confused, and when she tried to explain, everything would come out all wrong and he’d probably end up laughing at her.
He squeezed her waist, and she was surprised when he nudged her face toward his, one finger under her chin. Lucia felt pink as the walls of her bedroom.
“Are you worrying over that?”
She nodded, biting her lip, and feeling ridiculous now that his warm gray eyes were on her. “You were perfect,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Exquisite. Beautiful. Irresistible.”
“You’re not just—”
He put a finger on her lips. “No, I’m not just saying it, and I may have to show you how much I enjoyed you again in a moment.”
Lucia laughed, then caught the desire in his eyes and shivered.
WHENEVER SHE LAUGHED, Alex had the urge to kiss her, as if that one act could somehow infuse him with her joy, her spirit. She was so alive, so open to every new sensation, every experience. Nothing seemed to faze her. When she smiled, he felt he could be happy lying here with her forever. He almost chuckled. She was worried if she’d pleased him. If only she knew how much—far more than he’d ever imagined. And he had a vivid imagination.
But the feel of her body against his, her heat, her languid breathing was not his imagination, and he had no doubt reality would soon crash in. Guilt would smash into him like a bullet. Not only did his actions put her in danger, he had no intention of doing the honorable thing and marrying her.
