Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

He slid his hands from her br**sts to her hips and lifted, positioning himself at her entrance. “You tell me—”

He stopped himself, struck by the idiocy of what he’d nearly said: You tellme you love me. What a damn fool thought to entertain. This wasn’t love to her, it was just fantasy and lewd imaginings. A chance to satisfy her youthful lust and curiosity. He’d been twenty once. He remembered what it was to chase pleasure, and he certainly hadn’t confused it with love. He’d never contemplated love at all.

Until now.

She rocked backward, taking him into her. Beautiful, searing bliss enveloped him. She was all sweetness and heat and molten sighs, gripping him so tightly he could almost believe, for this moment, that she would never let him go.

He clutched at her hips, pulling her closer until they were fully joined. God,

he was losing himself inside her, and it was too late to pull away. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but take the pleasure she offered and give it in return, and make this so damn good that so long as she lived, no matter how far she went from him, she would never, ever forget. He took her in smooth, powerful strokes that had no end and no beginning, but built on one another—surely, steadily, relentlessly. He reached one hand around to cup her sex, part her gently, and strum the sensitive bud hidden there.

She moaned. She keened. She arched into his thrusts and took him deeper. And finally he felt the little flutters in her thighs and intimate muscles that told him her peak was near. He raced toward it with her, his cries joining hers as the pleasure consumed them both.

And then he simply held her, for as long as he dared.

“Well,” he finally said, withdrawing from her body. “You got what you wanted, then.” A bitter edge tainted the lingering tremors of pleasure singing through him. “We both did.”

“Did we?” She pivoted to face him, and he choked on his breath. How dangerous her beauty was. He thought it might be the death of him. She smoothed the hair off his brow, and he winced at the tenderness in her touch.

“Gray, if you found my book, surely you must know that this kind of …

encounter … is not all I want. I want so much more. And I want it with you.”

He closed his eyes, and that picture of the two of them lounging under a willow tree appeared behind his eyelids. He shook his head to dispel it.

“You want some fantasy, spun from a girl’s imagination. You want a dream that can never come true.”

The flush of her cheeks faded as she searched his face. “I suppose you’re right. That dream can never come true, if you don’t share it.”

“It’s not—”

“Enough about my dreams.” She put a finger to his lips, then trailed the touch down his jaw. “What is it that you really want, Gray?”

He seized her shoulders. “I want no more lies. No more wild tales and secret fantasies. I want you to tell me everything. Who you are, where you came from, where you’re going. Everything.”

Something softened in those clear, lovely eyes. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, for hurting you. But I was desperate, don’t you understand?

You were pushing me away, and I cared for you so much. And that was nothing, compared to what I feel for you now.” She pressed her hand to his face. “Gray, I—”

“I don’t want to hear this. I want the truth, not excuses.”

She stiffened, withdrawing her touch. “Now there is a falsehood. No one ever wants the truth from me. They just want the pretty package it comes in. If you really wanted to hear the truth, you’d listen. My feelings for you, they’re as true a part of me as my name, or my place of birth. But you never want to hear them. You just keep running away.”

He swallowed, uncertain what to say.

“And of all the people to accuse me of dishonesty—the man who told me I was worth nothing to him but six pounds, eight shillings? The man who ordered me to go to my berth and thank Almighty God he didn’t want me?

You have no idea how your lies hurt me.”

Oh, God. “Sweet, if I could only take back those words—”

“But you can’t. You have to live with them now, just as I do.” Arms twisted behind her back, she adjusted and relaced her stays.

“Do you know what I think?” she asked, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. “Never mind the lies—you were happy to be my first. I think you were damn near overjoyed to discover I was a virgin. I doubt you ever truly believed otherwise. It was only when you found the money that everything soured.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “I know precisely what you were hoping that day. You were hoping your pure, innocent virgin had come along, to spread her legs and redeem your sins with her mystical virtue. Well, surprise, Gray. I’m not perfect. I’ve sins enough of my own to deal with, and I’m not here to save you from yourself.”

Once again, she left him with no words. She was getting far too good at that. Tightening the cord on his trousers, he released his breath in a bewildered sigh. It was so damned hard to argue with the truth. “Sweetheart