A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(20)

When he reached for her laces, she knew she should pull away. It had already escalated well beyond an innocent kiss, but she was robbed of any will to stop him . . . or herself. With each tantalizing touch and every stolen breath, she succumbed a bit further, yielding to him by pieces.

He tugged impatiently at her laces and jerked at her bodice to free her breasts. Cupping them with his hands, he buried his face in the valley of white flesh, kissing and biting, rolling her tight peaks between his fingers. He drew a nipple into the moist heat of his mouth. She threw her head back with a sob, overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth pulling and suckling. The slow smolder that had begun low in her belly had combusted into flames.

***

Nick devoured her mouth like a starving man. He was already reeling like a drunkard, intoxicated by her eager response. Her breasts were fully exposed, and her eyes were wide with yearning. She arched her back with a needy sound that he eagerly answered, latching his seeking mouth onto a deliciously pebbled nipple. She moaned and clutched at his hair. He was on fire, burning with lust that he had no strength to control. He knew he needed to stop this madness, but every kiss and caress only pulled him deeper into the descent of desire. How could this be? She was a bloody virgin, for God's sake! Was he bewitched?

Once more seeking the sweetness of her lips, he kissed her deeply and passionately. As the musky scent of her arousal perfumed the air, he was powerless to resist the urge to reach beneath her skirts. Her petticoats whispered as he slid a hand beneath and then slowly upward over her silk stockings and beribboned garters to the even silkier flesh above. His pulse raced as he skirted over the smooth, warm skin of her thighs to caress his fingers through the soft, downy mass at her mons.

She shuddered in his arms as he explored further, gently stroking the contour of her nether lips and then sliding into the glorious wet heat of her slick folds. The erotic trance was broken by a gasp as she stiffened and broke away from his kiss. Her breasts heaved, and her eyes held a lost and bewildered look. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He pulled back a safe distance, willing a calm to the racing beat of his heart. "I'm sorry. I lost my head." His apology emerged as an anguished groan. "I never intended to take such liberties." He shook his head with a grimace of self-disgust, despising his own weakness. "Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," she said. "I wanted you to kiss me. I could have asked you to stop sooner, but my only desire was for your mouth, your hands, and your touch. But it became too much all at once. I can't comprehend what is happening, and that overwhelms and frightens me."

He reached for her again, taking her gently into his arms. "Sexual desire is a powerful force, Mariah. It has been known to topple kingdoms."

"I never could have believed the truth of that until now," she said.

"Precisely why I warned you to take great care. And now I feel like the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing."

"But you shouldn't . . . I mean, you didn't."

"No, but had you not spoken . . ."

"But I did speak, and you listened. That's all that matters."

"It cannot happen again," he said grimly. "I don't trust myself, and you shouldn't trust me either."

"But I do trust you," she countered softly. "Please, Nick, tell me what this means? I can't believe that this is always the way of it. I felt nothing at all when Lord Rochford kissed my hand, yet I tremble at the merest touch of yours."

He took her small hand between his. Nick studied their clasped hands with a frown. He couldn't begin to comprehend his intense feelings for Mariah. The only certainty within his muddled mind was that he couldn't bear the thought of any other man having her. "I cannot ask for this hand, Mariah, but I beg that you not give it to another."

"I don't understand." Her brow furrowed. "Are you saying I should never marry?”

"I don't know what I'm saying," Nick confessed. "I feel as if my brain is completely fogged, but one thing is crystal clear. I do care for you. A great deal more than I could ever have believed possible on such short acquaintance, enough that I want you as my own."

"You must know I would have you." She brought his hand to lie over her left breast and held it there with her palm pressed against his. "Do you feel that, Nick?" It took effort to ignore the soft, sweet flesh under his hand to discern the beating heart beneath. "It beats only for you. I could never accept another knowing that you care for me."

"But I have nothing to offer you."

"I have all that I need," she said. "I do not need a husband to provide a home and security. I have those already."

"What kind of a man enters into such a union?" he scoffed.

"It is done all the time," she insisted. "Just look how many marriages are contracted purely for material gain. Why is it such an offense to your pride to accept it as part of the bargain?"

"Because pride and self-respect are all I have, Mariah. I will never sacrifice those, even for you. I could not look myself in the mirror if I did."

"Then you would choose to walk away from this? From me?"

"No," he said. "I will find a way."

"How?"

"I must accompany Marcus to the peace congress. Marcus's future in the Foreign Service hinges on the outcome, as does mine. It is my best chance for advancement. We laid the foundation for peace this past year at Breda. Should we succeed in bringing about an acceptable agreement for peace, new doors will certainly open to me."