A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(35)

Fear and doubt refused to let her yield to him. "You have already betrayed my trust once, Nicolas. How can you expect me to believe you would be different from any other man?"

"All I have to offer you is what stands before you—my body, my heart, and my soul. They are yours, my love. I lay them at your feet. And I swear under all that is holy that I will never hurt you again. I will uphold my vows to love and cherish and protect you to my dying breath."

***

Having pled his case, Nick waited several agonizingly silent seconds as hope and hesitation warred in her sea-colored eyes. He forced his gaze from hers to focus on her lips instead, as if by sheer force of will he could draw the answer from her. He longed to kiss her lips, to reacquaint himself with their softness, shape, and texture. Now that they were alone, he was almost desperate to take her into his arms.

"Sweet words are easily spoken," she replied bitterly. "How can I know you really mean what you say?"

"You asked me once in a moonlit garden how you would ever know for certain that a man really cared for you. The answer hasn't changed, Mariah. This is how."

He claimed her mouth slowly and thoroughly, as if he was finally taking possession of what was always his to begin with. He'd already poured out his heart with his words, yet she remained unconvinced. Now his body must speak for his soul.

He sensed the precise moment she yielded her will; the drop of her shoulders and the soft sigh that escaped her mouth signaled surrender. The sound alone made him want to drown himself in her. He could not let this night end without showing her the depths of his love.

She kissed him back with equal fervor, slanting her head, nibbling at his mouth, drawing his lower lip between her teeth and sucking on it before offering a soft stroke of her tongue. He took control, cupping her nape and deepening the kiss. Their tongues met and tangled, each new stroke firing the passion they'd reawakened the very moment their mouths had joined. As their tongues danced, desperate desire took possession.

Nick devoured her mouth with lips, teeth, and tongue, she eagerly reciprocated his passion. He cupped a breast, sliding his thumb inside her bodice to tease her nipple as he kissed down her neck to the tops of her milky-white mounds. He was growing desperate to bury his face between them, but her bodice and stays presented a barrier.

She arched into him with a needy sound.

He was painfully aroused and ached to touch and taste and worship her inch by sweet, delectable inch. "I want to touch you, Mariah," he murmured hotly against her lips. "I want to kiss and touch and taste you. Please, will you let me?"

He knew even as he glanced toward the Turkish divan that where his thoughts led, his body would soon follow. He'd already sacrificed his pride for love. Now he added his honor to the altar of Venus. Before she could answer, he kissed her again, deeply, intensely, and began backing her toward the divan.

"Yes," she whispered and reached to loosen her laces.

He sat, pulling her down beside him. His hands joined her tugging and fumbling, loosening her bodice and stays. He kissed her again as he lay her back on the cushions, licking and nipping the length of her neck before lowering his head to suckle her luscious breasts.

She whimpered, a yearning sound that heated his blood and blurred his mind. He knew she didn't even know what she needed, but he did. Any remaining will to fight his conscience succumbed to his lust.

He continued distracting her with his mouth as he snaked a hand under her skirts, stealing up the length of her silky-smooth legs. Her eyes were closed, but her rosy lips were softly parted as if awaiting another kiss. Her breasts rose and fell in an erratic rhythm with her breathing.

He groaned with the ache to be inside her, engulfed in that sweet, wet, feminine heat. He knew she was more than ready for him. Her arousal was evident in every sound of pleasure that passed through her lips, in the way her body responded to his touch and—God help him—the musky scent of her sex. The first whiff of her natural essence nearly undid him. He was desperate to feel her wet heat, to touch her, taste her. He couldn't bear it any longer.

***

Nick stroked down her outer thigh and then back up again, searing a blazing path over the sensitive flesh on her inner thigh. While his hands moved steadily upward, his mouth made its own stealthy descent. He grazed his fingers through her mass of hair. She trembled as a gush of warmth hit her core. He gently parted her quivering thighs. She sounded a protest and clamped her legs together, but the action trapped his hand, increasing both the pressure and the excruciating ache inside her.

"Please, my love," he urged.

"It frightens me, Nick. This thing between us, the way you make me feel."

"I only wish to learn what pleases you. There's nothing to fear."

Although she was still a virgin, her prior experience with him had already proven how dangerous such intimate touching could be. Their mutual moans and panting breaths filled the air as he slid his fingers into the slickened folds of her sex, his clever fingers working, stroking, swirling, creating warm, wickedly wanton waves of pleasure deep inside her. He located the sensitive bud of her clitoris, caressing and stroking in deliberate circles while his other hand gently probed the opening to her body, the place where he would enter her. Her blood roared in her ears as the throbbing tension pulsed frenetically, mounting and coiling up inside her. It was too much! The emptiness inside had become unbearable, making her writhe with need.