Brendan’s tongue rasped against her wetness. Teasing. Searching.
Petra’s legs opened wider. Her hands ran over his broad shoulders, threading through the unruly locks of ebony hair. “Brendan,” she whispered as the rush of sensation intensified. Her legs wrapped around him as he found the tiny source of her pleasure with the tip of his tongue. Stroking her he gently took her into his mouth. Sucking. Licking. Until Petra bit her lip to stop from crying out. Her release came swift and hard. The spasms rocked her body, pushing her thrusting hips toward his eager mouth. She moaned his name into the pillow, her thighs tightening around his neck and shoulders.
Before she could regain her breath and marvel at the bloodless feel of her limbs, thick hardness pressed between her thighs as he settled himself between her hips. His mouth ran up the side of her neck before his lips met hers. She could taste her own pleasure on his tongue, and Petra kissed him back with all the love and desire she felt for him. Twisting her hips, she pushed upward, toward him, eager for this. For him.
“Petra, love, this may hurt. You’re sure? We can stop.”
“I don’t wish to stop.” Jemma had told her the first time felt like a pinch.
“I want you, Petra. I will always want you.”
Petra’s hands ran down his back to clasp the lines of his buttocks, marveling at the play of muscles beneath her fingertips. Brendan was all hard muscle and lines. Rough sinew and bone. So beautiful and different from herself.
His mouth fell over hers as he thrust inside her, one hand beneath her buttocks, holding Petra in place, the other clasping her hand.
She bit his shoulder at the slight burning sensation, knowing he’d breached her maidenhead. Brendan’s heat filled her, stretching and forcing her body to accommodate his.
A growl. “Christ, don’t do that. I’m trying to be gentle.”
Petra took a deep breath. The sensation was odd. She was full. Pulled taut. Not entirely unpleasant now that the pain was fading, but certainly this wasn’t like the feel of his mouth on her.
Brendan’s breathing was heavy and slightly ragged, as if he were trying to restrain himself.
Well, restraint wasn’t warranted. She bit him again.
“Dear God, Petra.” He moved back and thrust again, nipping her shoulder. “Stop doing that.” Another stroke, this one deeper. “Move your hips, love.”
Petra complied, loving the way her body held his. She moved her hips up at an angle and Brendan sank further inside her waiting flesh. She wanted him deeper. Her fingers clutched at his back, her nails rasping against his skin.
“Harder,” she whispered, her lips pressing to the side of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin. “Ravish me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said against her ear as he groaned, thrusting harder. His fingers moved between their bodies, finding and teasing the small bit of flesh until Petra became mindless with need. She begged, pleaded with him.
Brendan swore. Hooking one of her legs over his arms he filled her so completely, Petra cried out. His thrusts were deep and slow, each one bringing Petra closer to the edge until her body tensed and began to shatter. She climaxed so violently spots appeared before her eyes. Her teeth may have found their way into his shoulder again. Her body tightened, clasping and pulling at his until he moaned out his own pleasure into her hair.
After, she and Brendan lay together, limbs entwined, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. He ran one finger along the crease of her hip. The finger dipped between her legs, exploring her sensitive flesh until her blood became heated once more.
When he took her again, her world breaking apart in a million pieces as he held her in his arms, Petra pressed a kiss over his heart and whispered out her love for him.
Brendan may never love her enough to put aside his fears. She accepted she would be returning to London a scandal-ridden, ruined young lady.
By her own choice.
* * *
So much forbest laid plans.
Petra was sound asleep next to him, curled up like a kitten. Even now he wanted her, and he’d already taken her three times until Brendan felt like the savage he was often accused of being. He traced the outline of her nose with a fingertip, careful not to wake her. She was brave and clever. Uninhibited in bed. Resourceful. She may even make a decent climber one day.
Lady Lydia Pendleton would ensure Petra was raked over the coals by theton. Petra would never be received again. She would be gossiped about. No one would call on her. Lord and Lady Marsh would need to distance themselves or lose their own place in society. Lady Pendleton would be especially vindictive in light of Simon’s political career. Nothing must tarnish her brilliant boy.
Except murder would certainly take the shine from Simon, wouldn’t it? And Simon would have to find a girl with an enormous dowry after the profits of the Blue John were gone.
Petra stirred, disturbing his thoughts of revenge. She murmured something in her sleep. His name. Her fingers were curled over his. Trusting him.
Don’t let go.
Never.
