“One day you might regret—”
She put a finger over his lips. “One day you and I will laugh about this.” She had to believe there was a future for them. Had to believe this night would not be the only night. She kissed him, giving herself over to hunger and need. He pulled her closer, his body fastened against hers, his knee parting her legs and sliding between them until he rubbed her at her core and she could not stop a small moan of pleasure.
His mouth turned hungry, and she went from taking to giving as he rolled on top of her, bracing his weight on his arms and pressing her legs wider. And then his hand replaced his knee and she writhed against the pressure building inside her. “Yes,” she whispered. She put her arms around him and pulled him against her, closing her eyes to memorize the feel of his body on hers.
He groaned at the same time a finger slid inside her, and she clenched around him, pleasure already beginning to build. And then his finger was gone and something hotter and larger replaced it. Lorrie felt the first stirrings of a deeper need and she slid her legs up and around him.
“Yes,” he said, his breath against her ear. And then he kissed her neck and her cheek and looked down at her, his gaze meeting hers. He kissed her gently, easing himself inside her. Lorrie wet her lips as her body stretched to accommodate him.
He kissed her lips softly, then looked back into her eyes. Heat flooded her where their bodies met, heat and need, but when she tried to move, he grasped her hips. “Not yet.”
And then he moved again, filling her more, and she had to bite her lip at the first sting of pain. His brow creased as he watched her face, then he bent and kissed her lip, easing the tension there. Under her hands, his body felt like a tightly coiled spring, and she knew he was holding himself back for her. He was giving her time to adjust to the feel of him inside her, and the more time she had, the more the need built. She wanted to move against him, to push up and ease the ache of longing.
Seeming to sense her need, his hand stroked where their bodies joined, and when he skated over her tight bud, she gasped.
“Open for me. Yes,” he said. He moved deeper inside her, stretching her more than she ever thought possible. How much more of him was there to take in? But just as worry threatened to overwhelm pleasure, his thumb circled her, and she cried out, her hips rising slightly. Pain lanced through her as she took more of him in, and stinging tears sprang to her eyes. But his lips took hers with a sweetness that cut through the pain, and then there was the pleasure again as he circled her slowly, so slowly.
“Ewan.” She clutched at his back as the pleasure built, and the feel of him inside her, filling her, made that pleasure all the sweeter. And then he finally pressed against her center, and she broke apart, sobbing his name. He surged into her, and the pleasure sharpened and she was not sure where it ended and pain began. She cried out at the invasion, at the sting of penetration, then fisted her hands and gritted her teeth to hold in her cry.
“Sorry,” he said. “So sorry.” His voice was tight and sounded muffled through the haze of her pain.
“Does it hurt you too?” she asked, wiping away a tear that had escaped.
He shook his head.
“Oh.” The pain had faded enough for her to gather her thoughts. “Then you are worried about hurting me?”
“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.
The sweet man. How could anyone ever think him a brute? He was a gentle giant. Unclenching her hands, she wrapped them around his bare back, pulling his chest against hers. “I love you, Ewan Mostyn.”
He shifted to look down at her, and the movement made her grimace with pain.
“I have to say I don’t know why anyone should want to couple like this. Are you certain we are doing it properly?”
He chuckled, a sound she had rarely heard from him. “It will be better for you next time.”
Next time. Would there be a next time with him or was this all she would ever have with him? If this was all, she should try to make the most of it. “It’s not so bad now,” she said, and though she was still uncomfortable the pain was not unbearable any longer. “Are we through?”
“There’s a bit more—”
“You mean that is not all of you?” she all but screeched.
He pressed his lips together, trying not to smile, she supposed. “I mean there is more to the act.”
She drew back as much as she could. “What else is there?” She hadn’t meant to sound wary, but she was not sure she wanted any more of this.
“I’ll show you.” His hands cupped her face, and he bent to kiss her. As their lips met, he moved inside her, gently thrusting deeper.
Lorrie inhaled sharply, but his hands stroked her cheeks and his lips kissed away the pain. He withdrew, and she was surprised that she missed the feel of him. And then he was inside her again, filling her, stretching her. She bit down on her lip, but the pain had faded to mere discomfort. He moved again, pushing deeply, and something inside her fluttered and wakened. She met his gaze, the blue of a moonstone, as he looked down at her. The next thrust pulsed inside her, and she could not quite stifle a moan. Ewan’s brow went up.
“Better?”
“I see”—she caught her breath as he moved again—“how this might be”—if only the pain did not distract her—“pleasurable.”
“Next time,” he promised. “This time…I can’t…”
She felt his hands tense on her cheeks, and he thrust again, this time hard enough to make her gasp. And then he threw back his head, the muscles of his neck straining, and let out a guttural groan. Poised above her as he was, his glorious body straining with pleasure, she thought he must be the most beautiful man ever to walk the earth. Instinctively, she closed her legs around him, pulled him tighter to her.
“I shouldn’t.” He panted. “I can’t stop.”
And with a roar, he thrust deeply, sending another spiral of pleasure through her.
*
Ewan lay beside her, cursing himself. He shouldn’t have spilled his seed inside her. They weren’t married. Her father was unlikely to give him permission to marry her, though Ewan could certainly force his hand.
The fact that Lady Lorraine might be carrying his child was an incentive for the duke to wed her quickly.
But would he wed her to Ewan? Certainly the man had other suitors in mind, men who would take her even though she might be ruined. Men who could overlook an indiscretion when faced with the lure of her dowry.