A Devil's Touch (The Devil DeVere #4.5)(12)

"No, not yet," he reprimanded. "I'll give you what you want only after I have what I want. Now close your eyes and breathe slowly." He continued the delicious movement of his shaft while his oil-slickened fingers traced the cleft of her buttocks.

"Please. Don't," she begged, her apprehension returning in a crushing wave.

"Relax, my pet. I would never hurt you."

"I know that," she said, sounding uncertain even to herself.

"Do you?" he asked.

"I don't know, Luvovic. I'm afraid."

"Trust, Diana," he murmured, repeating lowly, "Only pleasure." He punctuated this by guiding his erection into her passage, stretching her as he eased inside, bringing such wondrous fullness, such sweet relief, that she wanted to cry out. He rocked his pelvis against her in a slow and rhythmic motion, moving inside her the same way his fingers continued their play—gently but persistently caressing and circling.

And he was right. He promised her only pleasure, and her body thrummed with it. Lost to sense of time and place, her mind blurred as his movements grew more forceful and the pressure of his probing fingers became more insistent.…until finally penetrating her forbidden entrance. Awareness broke through the fog of her lust like shards of broken glass. She gasped, tensing beneath and around him. "I can't," she whimpered.

"You must relax, Diana," he said. "Relax your mind and open your body to me. Please," he insisted. We cannot go on unless you trust me implicitly. I must know that there are no limits to that trust. I need you to let me love you this way."

Even as Diana trembled, understanding dawned. To Ludovic, this was the supreme moment of truth. I need you to let me love you this way.

Could she find it within herself to squelch her trepidation? Or would she risk all by her reticence, by holding on to unfounded fears?

***

He could feel the tension roiling within her and knew he had pushed her too hard. Yet it made him ache with dismay that she could not find the strength to put her trust in him, to bury the past for good.

He withdrew from her with a sigh of regret. "I'm sorry, Diana. I am a bastard to have put your faith to trial at a time like this. I was angry and resentful, but that's no excuse for pushing you so hard."

"No. Don't be sorry," she cried, pulling herself up to face him. "But you were right and I don't want this night to end this way."

"And how is that?" he asked.

"With frustration and disappointment. I can read it all on your face."

And he could just as easily read hers—her widened gaze, the slight quiver of her lips clearly bespoke her trepidation, her vulnerability, her need of his reassurance.

He pulled her into his embrace with a groan, caressing her back, plying soft kisses to her hair, then her brow, her eyes, and all over her lovely face. "I can't bear to hear your suspicions, Diana. Not knowing how much you still hold back from me when all I am is yours."

Her solemn gaze met his. "I know you can't." She reached out to stroke his face. "I understand that now, and I don't want it to be like this between us any longer."

His pulse sped with hope. "What are you saying, Diana?"

"Please, can we begin again? If you will only be patient with me, I promise not to disappoint you."

"Disappoint?" His mouth stretched into a dry smile. "My dearest heart, in our time together, you have befuddled, perplexed, and frustrated the hell out of me, but you have never disappointed." He cupped her nape and kissed her deeply. Tenderly.

She returned the kiss with increased fervor and then took his hand. "Come, my husband…my love." Diana surprised him by leading him to their bed.

***

As before, he came behind her, but took his time, caressing her breasts, laving hot open-mouth kisses to her neck, her shoulders. His hands skirted to her bottom where he fondled, squeezed, and stroked. He nipped gently at her nape as he bent her forward, easing her back into the position he desired with two pillows placed beneath her hips. Diana's elbows and knees sank deeply into the soft down of their bed while his mouth played down her spine, licking and kissing one vertebra at a time. It was the same… but also somehow different this time.

"You must not think, Diana." His words were a hot, moist murmur of reassurance against her skin, making her warm and fluttery inside. "Please, my sweet, just empty your mind and simply feel." Diana willed herself to compliance, to relax and give herself up to his teasing touch and mesmerizing mouth—the same wicked mouth that suckled on her fleshy globes. He shocked her by biting into her with sharp teeth that were none too gentle. Yet the action sent a paradoxical jolt of sting and pleasure straight to her core. He must have felt her reaction as well. "Do you like that, my pet?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I think so."

"Shall we find out? Shall we discover if there is aught else you might enjoy?"

His weight left the bed for a moment before the mattress sagged once more and Diana felt another peculiar sensation, akin to a cool drip on her lower back and buttocks. She looked over her shoulder to find him pouring the almond oil on her body. He then proceeded to knead and massage it into her skin with expert hands. When his wicked mouth joined his clever hands, alternating soft licks with stinging bites… Oh dear God… she thought she would melt into the mattress. His ministrations were delicious and sensuous and transcended her to heaven.