Treacherous Temptations(33)

She gazed at his face, soft and sweet, with her very heart beating in her eyes. “Lust? Is that what this is?” She placed his hand over her racing heart. “Is it only lust that causes my breath to catch and my chest to ache when I simply look at you?” She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his palm, an artless act that had a startling affect.

Feeling unbalanced and terrorized, Hadley closed his eyes in an effort to shut her out, but the insidious and unwanted flare of feeling would not be ignored. He reasoned in desperation that abstinence was his trouble, why he was so bloody unsettled. His brain and body had disconnected, befogged by unsated lust. It was a vicious cycle, for he could not be free of his desire until he had her, yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to follow through.

Damn it all! He could not, would not, let this happen again. He had brought her here for a purpose. He would not allow his emotions to govern his will.

Seeking to recover his lost equilibrium in the familiar—raw carnal pleasure, Hadley lowered her to the ground and descended upon her, pressing his thigh between her legs, driving them apart. He savaged her mouth with a bruising kiss that crushed her lips against her teeth, plundering her with his tongue, thrusting deeply, ruthlessly—just as he would enter her. He could taste the coppery tang of blood, but she lay quiescent beneath him—proof of her surrender. Not that he cared any longer. This game of subtle seduction was over. She had offered and he would take now. Newfound conscience be damned.

While one hand snaked beneath her petticoat, his other cupped and squeezed her breast. He lowered his mouth there, rooting, seeking, suckling, even as he sought the wet heat between her legs. He fumbled with his buttons, freed his throbbing prick, and slid his hands up her thighs, spreading her wide, and positioning his hips to impale her.

“No!” She cried. Thrashing and squirming, she scuttled away wild-eyed and trembling. “Not like this!”

Her violent protest jarred him back to his senses. Bloody Hell! He was coming unraveled. “I warned that you played with fire, didn’t I?” Yet he was the one burning. He was also fully engorged, throbbing for release, and still struggling for control. He willed control of his ragged breathing and calm to the heart that hammered a deafening tattoo in his ears.

“But I never imagined you would—that’s not the way I thought—you know that’s not what I wanted!”

“Then you must learn to take more care what you ask, for it may be much more than you bargained for.”

…

Even as she protested, Mary doubted herself. She had wanted him. Madly. Desperately. But then inexplicably his tenderness had vanished, replaced by something almost akin to rage. She couldn’t comprehend it. Though it was he who had coaxed and tempted her in the pool, and it was he who had bestirred her desire, making her crave things she shouldn’t, it seemed now that he wished to punish her for it.

“Mayhap the appropriate words failed you, but your body spoke, indeed cried out, most clearly.” He reached out and grazed his fingers, still damp with her essence, over her lips. “There it is, Mary,” he said, low and dark. “You wanted this. You cannot deny the proof of it. Taste it, my sweet. Taste your own desire.”

She gaped at him, wondering what he expected. This exchange was so far beyond her experience that she couldn’t summon the appropriate response. Revulsion? Mortification? Did he mean for her to recoil in horror and disgust? Was that what she was supposed to do?

His crude act was shocking, yet it was also strangely and wickedly arousing. He stared at her with his chest still heaving, and she realized he found it so too. Matching his stare, Mary darted her tongue over her lips to taste the salty sweet essence he had wrought from her body.

…

Hadley wrestled with his guilt. He had nearly ravished her and now tried to drive her away. But instead of fleeing like any frightened virgin should, she defied him! As if testing his last shreds of restraint, her gaze flickered over him and then she did exactly as he’d commanded.

Sweet Jesus! It was at once the most innocent and erotic gesture and it sent a racking shudder of rampant lust raging straight back to his cock. He clamped his eyes shut on a groan, feeling he must have satisfaction or die. “I’m sorry. Come back to me, Mary.”

“No,” she whispered. “Just stay away from me. I don’t even know who you are. It’s as if you are two different men inhabiting the same body.”

He could hardly disagree with her, because that’s precisely how he felt! Damn it all! What was wrong with him? Less than an hour ago, he’d had her eating out of his hand. He should have had her writhing and moaning beneath him by now, but he couldn’t have bungled it more if he’d tried. He couldn’t understand what devil had taken possession of him, but then he acknowledged it had all begun to come apart, or more accurately, he had begun to, the moment she laid his hand over her heart. “Is it only lust that causes this ache in my chest when I simply look at you?”

The display of emotion, raw and real, had pierced him as sharply as a knife, forcing the admission of what he had refused to acknowledge—that a man who lived a life of lies and betrayals, one who had long thought himself emotionally dead, had developed an inexplicable tendre for Mary.

“I wanted to take you, Mary and I could have, but I didn’t. Do you understand that?” How could she, when he didn’t comprehend it himself?