A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(37)
She opened her eyes to find his closed, his face drawn taught as if in intense pain. His body trembled, and his chest heaved. "Did it hurt?" she whispered.
He opened his eyes with a look of surprise. "God, no! I am nearly unmanned. Just give me a moment," he begged.
It was only then she realized his face was strained with concentration. He was inside her, buried to the hilt. Yet the burning sensation had eased, supplanted by a strange fullness that suffused her entire being. They were joined in as intimate a fashion as man and woman could be, and it was breathtaking.
***
Nick was barely holding himself in check. Buried in her hot, tight sheath was pure, agonizing rapture. He braced himself on his elbows, holding himself at a slight distance form her for fear that even an inch more exposure to her sweet, welcoming flesh would put him over the edge. That brief moment of initial penetration had nearly been the end of him. He felt as if all the blood had drained from his body to engorge his pulsing staff, and his bollocks were tight enough to burst. His pulse pounded in his ears as he fought to keep his release at bay. Another moment passed before he felt he had himself sufficiently in check.
"Are you all right, Mariah?" he asked. "Am I hurting you?"
"No," she whispered. "It hurt at first, but not so much now. I like this, Nick, feeling you inside me."
"I swear you will like it a whole lot more the next time," he said. "There will be less pain and eventually only pleasure."
He kissed her again, trying to focus on the kiss rather than the mind-blurring friction of his cock moving inside her hot, tight passage. Flexing his hips, he withdrew slightly and then thrust back in again. He continued kissing her deeply, probing with his tongue in synchrony with the rhythmic repetition of his hips. White-hot jolts of sensation fired every nerve.
She moaned into his mouth and, without coaxing, wrapped her legs about his flanks, urging him deeper into her wetness. She began to meet his thrusts, undulating beneath him as he drove into her harder and deeper. His urgency increased as the air thickened with the scent of sex and the sultry sounds of pleasure. His climax hit him with a blinding fury, forcing hot spurts of his seed and a ferocious cry from his lungs. Gazing into her beautiful eyes in the moment of his release, he knew he was indeed a man undone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“None but the brave deserves the fair.”- John Dryden
LYING CURLED UP against Nick's big, warm body, listening to the soft slap of waves against the barge and the slow and steady beat of her lover's heart, Mariah felt as if she'd awakened from a dream. How could the world have suddenly become so different? Or maybe she had. How was it possible that the act of love had wrought such a profound change? It was done. Or better said, she was ruined. Utterly and completely ruined, but try as she might, she couldn't summon even an ounce of regret. The experience had been beyond her wildest imaginings, but where did they go from here?
"Nick?" she prompted softly, tracing lazy circles on his bare chest.
He cracked one eye open. "What is it, love?"
"Do you intend to make an honest woman of me?"
His sensuous lips curved in a lazy smile. "I thought I declared myself to you in the most uncertain terms. If I have failed to communicate the depths of my devotion, perhaps I should try again?"
"Please don't tease me."
"I am quite serious, my love. Were we not presently in a barge moored in the middle of the Thames, I would indeed show you again, and again." He cupped the back of her head and pulled in for a long and tender kiss. "Will you have me, Mariah? Will you take me as your husband until death do us part?"
"Yes, Nick," she murmured. "I never wanted anyone but you."
"Nor I you," he replied softly, stroking an index finger over her lips.
An explosion suddenly jolted them apart.
"What was that?" Mariah gasped.
"I can only presume the illuminations have begun."
A second boom followed, echoed by a series of crackles.
"Is it so very late?" Her heart raced. "What can Lydia and Marcus be thinking? And Lady Russell? They will surely wonder what we have been doing."
Nick chuckled. "Are you still so innocent, my love? I assure you there will be no doubt of our activities in any of their minds."
Mariah flushed. "Then how can I possibly show my face?"
"We need only tell them we are to marry, and no one will care. Indeed, I have half a mind to hire a coach this moment and abscond with you to Mayfair."
"Why would you wish to go to Mayfair?"
"There is a small chapel next to St. George's that will perform quiet weddings."
"Without a license?"
"Yes. They only require two witnesses. Although the practice is frowned upon, such marriages are nevertheless upheld under the law."
"But I don't wish to be secretive. Getting married hastily in the middle of the night would suggest shame. I don't want any such intimations hanging over us. I would prefer to wed in full light of day with friends and family present."
"I merely gave you an alternative to joining the party, my love. We will do as you wish." He rose from the divan and snatched up their scattered garments, adding with a grin, "It appears I must now test my skills as a lady's maid."
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