The Gift (Crown's Spies #3)

The Gift (Crown's Spies #3) Page 16

Not want her? He wanted to grab hold of her hand and force her to feel how very much he wanted her. He didn't, of course, for he was certain she'd become terrified again.

"Sara, just give me a minute," he said in a clipped voice. "I'm afraid…" He didn't finish that explanation, didn't tell her he was afraid he would hurt her if he touched her. That admission would only increase her fear, so he kept silent.

"You don't have to be afraid," she whispered.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He opened his eyes to look at her. She couldn't really think… and yet the tenderness in her eyes indicated she did believe he was afraid.

"For God's sake, Sara, I'm not afraid."

Her fingers slowly trailed down his chest. He caught hold of her hand when she reached the flat of his stomach. "Stop that," he ordered.

"You've only taken experienced women to your bed, haven't you, Nathan?"

His answer was a low grunt.

She smiled. "Nathan, you like kissing me, don't you?"

He'd asked her that very question not fifteen minutes earlier, when he'd been trying to rid her of her fear. God's truth, he would have laughed if he hadn't been in so much pain. The woman was treating him as though he were the virgin.

He was about to straighten out her thinking when she edged closer to him. He suddenly realized that his bride was no longer afraid of him. "Do you?" she persisted.

"Yes, Sara, I like kissing you."

"Then kiss me again, please."

"Sara, kissing isn't the only thing I had in mind. I want to touch you. Everywhere."

He waited for her to go rigid on him again. God, he wished he had the patience for this. His nerves felt as though they were about to snap, and all he could think about was spilling his seed inside her.

He closed his eyes and growled.

And then he felt her take hold of his hand. He opened his eyes just as she placed his hand on the side of her full breast.

He didn't move for a long minute. She didn't either. They stared into each other's eyes. He waited to see what she would do next. She waited for him to get on with his duty.

Sara soon became impatient with him. He was gently stroking her br**sts. The feeling made her tingle inside. It made her reckless, too. She rubbed her toes against his legs and slowly leaned up to kiss him.

"I hate the feeling of being trapped," she whispered between feathery-light kisses. "But I don't feel trapped now, Nathan. Don't give up on me yet, husband. This is a new experience for me. Truly."

He gently caressed the side of her face. "I'm not going to give up," he whispered. There was a bit of laughter in his voice when he added, "Truly."

She sighed against his mouth and kissed him just the way she wanted to. When her tongue moved inside to mate with his, Nathan's control snapped. He became the aggressor again, deepening the kiss even more with wild abandon.

He kept up the gentle assault until she rolled onto her back and tried to bring him with her. Nathan didn't give in to her demand but leaned down to kiss the fragrant valley between her br**sts. His mouth teased first one and then the other nipple until they were both hard nubs. His tongue drove her wild. When she couldn't stand the sweet torment any longer she grabbed hold of his hair and began to tug on him.

She felt as if she'd been hit with hot lightning when he finally took her nipple into his mouth. She arched up, demanding more. He began to suckle.

A warm knot formed in the pit of her stomach. "Nathan, please," she moaned. She didn't have any idea what she was begging him for, only knew the incredible heat was driving her beyond reason.

He turned to her other breast even as his hand slid down between her thighs. She didn't clench against him but let out another ragged groan.

He leaned up on one elbow so he could watch her expression. She tried to hide her face in the crook of his shoulder. He reached out and caught hold of her hair.

"I like the way you respond to me," he whispered. "Do you like the way I'm touching you?"

He already knew the answer. He could feel how ready she was for him. How hot. His fingers rubbed against the nub hidden between her folds until she was slick with moisture. His finger slowly eased up inside her.

Her hands had been fisted at her sides until that minute. She came apart then. She stroked his shoulders, his back.

Her nails scraped his backside. "Nathan," she whispered. "Don't do that. It hurts. Oh, God, don't stop."

She continued to contradict herself by arching up against his hand. Nathan could barely understand what she was saying to him. He shook with raw desire to have her.

He silenced her weak protest with a kiss and moved to cover her. She didn't try to lock her legs together but moved to cuddle his hardness between her thighs.

He twisted her hair in his hand to hold her steady for his kiss. The way she rubbed her pelvis against him drove him crazy. He wasn't being gentle. She wouldn't let him. Her nails stung. He liked that. She was moaning, too. He liked that even more.

He slowly eased into her but stopped when he felt the thin shield of her resistance. He lifted his head up enough so that he could look into her eyes.

"Put your legs around me," he ordered, his voice harsh with determination.

When she did as he commanded he let out a low growl. And still he hesitated.

"Look at me, Sara."

She opened her eyes and stared into his.

"You're going to belong to me. Now and forever."

Her eyes were misty with passion. She reached up to clasp the sides of his face. "I have always belonged to you, Nathan. Always."

His mouth covered hers again. He thrust deep inside her in one swift motion, thinking to get the pain he knew she'd feel over and done with as quickly as possible.

"Hush, baby," he whispered when she cried out. He was fully embedded in her. Her tight heat surrounded him, squeezed him. "God, that feels good," he said with a groan.

"No, it doesn't feel good," she cried out. She tried to shift positions to ease the throbbing pain, but he held her h*ps and wouldn't let her move.

"It will feel better in a minute," he told her. His breathing was labored. He sounded out of breath to her. His face rested in the hollow of her shoulder. He nipped at her skin with his teeth, tickled her at the same time with his tongue. The sweet torture made her forget some of the pain.

"Don't push against me like that, Sara," he ordered. His voice was harsh, strained. "I'm not stopping now. I can't."

His tongue rubbed her earlobe. She quit struggling and let out a sigh of pleasure.

"The pain won't last long," he whispered then. "I promise."

She reacted more to the tenderness, the caring in his voice than to the promise he'd just given her. She hoped he was right, though. She still hurt. The throbbing was insistent, but after a minute it did begin to lessen. Yet when he started to move again the pain immediately returned.

"If you don't move, it isn't so terrible," she whispered.

His groan was harsh.

"All right, Nathan?" she pleaded.

"All right," he answered, responding to the worry in her voice. It was a lie, of course, but she was too innocent to understand how much he needed to move. "I won't move."

Her hands began to stroke his hair, the back of his neck. His fever was burning out of control, and the pain of having to hold back was demanding to be appeased.

She couldn't seem to quit touching him. "Nathan, kiss me."

"The pain's gone now?"

"Almost."

He deliberately withdrew just a little when he moved to kiss her again, then just as slowly eased back inside her.

"You moved," she cried out.

Instead of agreeing with her he kissed her. When he tried to withdraw again her nails dug into his hard thighs. She was trying to keep him still against her. He ignored her protests and sought to make her burn the way he was burning. His hand slipped down between their joined bodies, and his thumb slowly stoked the fire inside her.

Her head fell back on the pillows, and her grip on his thighs relaxed.

And then she began to move. Her h*ps pushed up against his. Her actions were instinctive, primal, uncontrollable.

She soon became demanding, too. He responded to her by slowly pulling back and thrusting more powerfully inside.

She squeezed him tight and arched up against him just as forcefully. The mating ritual took over. The bed creaked from the rocking motion. Their bodies glistened with perspiration in the candlelight. Her sweet moans blended with his raw growls.

They were both wild to find fulfillment. He couldn't stop his own cl**ax, nor the near shout he gave when he spilled his hot seed inside her.

His head dropped against her shoulder in complete surrender to the blazing orgasm that overtook him.

He knew she was close to finding her own release. His thrusts continued to be just as forceful, and when he felt her tense against him, he forced her orgasm by driving hard into her again.

She screamed. His name.

His ears rang from the noise. He collapsed on top of her, giving her his full weight in an attempt to stop her trembling.

Neither one of them moved for a long, long while. Nathan was too content. She was too exhausted.

She felt a trickle of moisture near her ear, reached up to touch it, and only then realized she'd been crying. Lord, she'd really lost her composure, hadn't she? She was too pleased to worry about that, though. And too satisfied. Why hadn't anyone ever told her how wonderful making love would be?

Her husband's heartbeat pounded in unison with her own. She let out a happy sigh. She was his wife now.

"You can't call me bride anymore," she whispered against his neck. On impulse she tickled his skin with the tip of her tongue. The taste of him was salty, male, wonderful.

"Am I too heavy for you?"

He sounded weary to her. She answered him, yes, he was getting heavy, and he immediately rolled onto his back.

She didn't want him to leave her just yet. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her what a fine woman she was, to give her the words of praise and love all new wives longed to hear. She wanted him to kiss her again, too.

She didn't get anything. Nathan's eyes were closed. He looked peaceful and sleepy.

She didn't have any idea of the war Nathan was waging with himself. He was desperately trying to understand what had just happened to him. He'd never lost control so completely. She'd bewitched him. Confused him, too. He was feeling vulnerable, and damn, that feeling scared the hell out of him.

Sara rolled onto her side. "Nathan?"

"What?"

"Kiss me again."

"Go to sleep."

"Kiss me goodnight."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'll want you again if I kiss you," he finally explained. He didn't bother to look at her but stared at the ceiling. "You're too tender."

She sat up in bed, flinching over the discomfort she felt between her thighs. He was right. She was tender. It didn't seem to matter, though. She still wanted him to kiss her.

"You're the one who made me tender," she muttered. She poked him in his shoulder. "I specifically remember telling you not to move."

"You moved first, Sara. Remember that?" he drawled.

She blushed. She took heart. He wasn't sounding too surly. She cuddled up against him, wishing he'd put his arms around her. "Nathan, isn't the after as important as the during?"

He didn't know what she was talking about. "Go to sleep," he ordered for the second time. He jerked the covers up over the two of them, then closed his eyes again.

She threw her arm over him. She was exhausted. Frustrated, too. She told him so.

He laughed. "Sara, I know you found fulfillment."

"That isn't what I'm talking about," she whispered.

She waited for him to ask her to explain what she'd meant, then gave up when he kept silent. "Nathan?"

"Hell, what now?"

"Please don't take that mean tone with me."

"Sara…" he began in a warning tone of voice.

"After you took those other women to your bed, well, after… what did you do?"

What in God's name was she getting at? "I left," he snapped.

"Are you going to leave me?"

"Sara, this is my bed. I'm going to sleep."

Her patience was at an end. "Not before I explain proper etiquette to you," she announced. "After a man finishes… that, he should tell his wife what a fine woman she is. Then he should kiss her and hold her close. They fall asleep in each other's arms."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling. She said the damnedest things. Sounded like a general, too. "It's called lovemaking, Sara, and how would you know what's proper and what isn't? You were a virgin, remember?"

"I just know what's proper," she countered.

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

"Don't shout at me."

He turned to look at her. Hell, she looked as if she was going to cry. He didn't have the patience to deal with her tears. God, she was vulnerable… and beautiful. Her mouth was all rosy and swollen from his kisses.

He reached over and hauled her into his arms. After giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head he pushed her face down into the crook of his shoulder and muttered, "You're a fine woman. Now go to sleep."

He didn't sound like he meant what he said, but she didn't care. He was holding her close. He was stroking her back. She thought that was a little telling. She snuggled up against him and closed her eyes.

His chin rested on the top of her head. Each time the memory of their lovemaking came into his thoughts he blocked it. He wasn't ready to let his emotions get the upper hand. He was simply too disciplined to let a woman get that close.

He was just drifting off to sleep when she whispered his name again. He squeezed her to let her know he wanted her to keep quiet. She whispered his name again.

"Yes?" he answered with a deliberate yawn.

"Do you know what this holding and hugging each other is called?"

She wasn't going to let up on him until she told him what was on her mind. Nathan squeezed her again, then gave in. "No, Sara, what's it called?"

"Cherishing."

He groaned. She smiled. "It's a good start, isn't it?"

His snore was her only answer. Sara wasn't bothered that he had rudely fallen asleep in the middle of her fervent speech. She'd simply explain it all to him again the next day.