Andrea Kane (22 page)

The innocent invitation was Braden’s undoing.

His last shreds of control gone, he took Kassie’s mouth in a scalding kiss and slid his fingers between her trembling thighs. Her wetness made his already painfully engorged manhood harden until waiting became an intolerable agony.

“Kassie … love … I’m sorry.…” Even as he spoke he was moving over her, settling himself in the cradle of her thighs. Their eyes met, and he saw no trace of fear, only passion, longing … and something even more beautiful than both. “Let me love you,” he whispered, finding the heated entrance to her body with his. “Let me bury myself inside you … Kassie.” He whispered her name again as he pressed himself into her wet, hot tightness. He held her gaze, bracing himself on his hands and, despite his urgency, pushing into her an inch at a time, letting her body accustom itself to his penetration. He watched her eyes widen, first with surprise, then with wonder, and finally with a flash of pain. But she never took her gaze from his, never attempted to pull away from his possession.

They both felt the delicate membrane tear.

Kassie’s soft cry mingled with Braden’s ecstatic, wondrous groan.

“Kassie … oh, Kassie … at last.” He said nothing more, just lowered himself totally upon her tense body and wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hands down to her silky bottom. “Relax, love,” he murmured in her ear. “Just let yourself feel me. I’m inside you, sweetheart. I’m where I belong. Ah, Kassie, yes, like that,” he urged, feeling her relax, then lift her body experimentally up to his.

Kassie had entered a world she had never imagined existed. The initial pain of Braden’s entry was already forgotten. She could actually feel him throbbing inside her, answering her own body’s reflexive tightening with his own. He was huge and scalding, and hungry for a rhythm that she, too, sought, knowing instinctively that it would bring fulfillment to them both.

Braden taught her, helped her, whispering heated words in her ear while he increased his thrusts … harder, deeper into her softness. Kassie raised her legs to hug his hips, and he lost all control, lifting her up hard while he drove down into the very center of her being. She tightened her grip on his back, reveling in the wetness of his sweat-drenched skin and opening herself totally to his frenzied thrusts.

“Kassie!” Her name was a shout, a hoarse cry from deep within Braden’s soul. He could feel his climax building to excruciating proportions, and he knew that there would soon be no holding back. But he needed more.

He raised up enough to slide his hand between their bodies, to touch her where she was aching and desperately needing to be touched. He continued to move, his strokes deep and powerful, and he felt her nails dig into his back, her body tighten around his. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he panted. “Let it happen. Let yourself go. Give yourself to me … all of yourself … now. I’ll never hurt you. Never. Kassie!” Her name was a primal roar that exploded from his chest. “Now, love, now …”

Answering his frantic plea, Kassie’s body spun away from her, erupting in a continuous spasm of ecstatic pleasure, carrying her to a world of pure sensation.

He heard her cry out, felt the clasping contractions of her body just as his own wild release claimed him. Their joy, their cries of fulfillment, their bodies’ warm fluids joined in a pinnacle of sensation so stark, so intense that the pleasure was almost unendurable, leaving them totally drained and breathless.

For a long time neither one of them moved. Braden could feel Kassie’s heart beating against his, her soft, damp skin pressed close to him, their bodies still intimately entwined. Slowly he became aware of the sea slapping against the shore, the warmth of the setting sun heating his bare back, the sound of their horses softly whinnying their impatience.

He smiled as contentment washed through him in great waves. Kassie stirred beneath him, and he lifted his head to look at her.

“Did I hurt you?”

In response to his soft question she reached up to touch his handsome, worried face, shaking her head, a dreamy look in her eyes. “No. And if you did, I’ve already forgotten.”

Braden smiled, the slow, possessive smile of a man who had just made the most beautiful woman in the world his wife.

“Does this mean our argument is over?” he teased, rolling gently off of her.

She laughed, looking like an exquisite, naked, newly ravished sea nymph. “I suppose so.”

“We’d better start home before Charles and Dobson come looking for us,” he told her, standing. He laughed at the appalled expression on Kassie’s face. “Don’t worry, love,” he assured her. “They would never know where to find us.”

Kassie nodded, staring at him in wonder. “You are magnificent.”

Her uninhibited honesty touched him as much as the compliment itself. Now that sanity had returned he had expected her to be embarrassed, maybe even mortified by their nakedness and the urgency of their first union. He had expected many things, but never this. “Thank you,” he said simply, meeting her gaze. At her heated look he could feel himself harden, and he turned hastily away, unwilling to frighten her with the intensity of his desire. He actually wanted her again, he thought in amazement, donning his breeches and boots. After what they had just shared he thought he’d be insensate for a week. He should have known better. This was Kassie, after all.

He turned back and gathered Kassie’s scattered clothes, then extended his hand to her. “Come, love,” he said gently.

She gave him her hand and stood, pulling on her undergarments and gown in rapid succession.

Braden reached for his shirt and frowned at the small bloodstain that was the blatant reminder of what had just occurred. He felt Kassie’s eyes upon him, and he raised his head. She blushed and lowered hers. He went to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked gently.

“Yes.”

“You do know that you won’t ever bleed again … only this first time?”

She nodded. “I know now.”

He drew her against him and kissed the top of her head. Then, without a word, he strode over to the water’s edge and dunked his shirt, holding it there until all traces of the bloodstain—and Kassie’s childhood—were gone. He wrung out the wet shirt, then shrugged back into it.

Kassie finished buttoning her gown just as Braden returned to her side.

“Come, wife,” he said softly, “let’s go home.”

“I
HAVE NEVER SEEN
hair as lovely as yours, Your Grace—as rich and soft as black silk.” Margaret drew the brush through the gleaming tresses that hung down the back of Kassie’s night rail.

“Um-m-m,” Kassie responded, totally oblivious to Margaret’s compliment. She continued to stare at her reflection in the dressing table mirror, searching for the physical changes she was certain must be evident. The huge aqua eyes that stared back at her could find none. How could she look so very much the same when she was so totally transformed?

Kassie gave a blissful sigh. She was acutely aware of her body’s soreness: the raw tenderness of her breasts, the twinges of discomfort between her thighs. She rejoiced in all the aching sensations, for they served as reminders of what had happened today on the beach … when Braden had made her his.

A small, self-satisfied smile curved her lips. She had not known what to expect, but nothing had prepared her for the consuming need and resulting euphoria she had found in Braden’s arms. So this was what it meant to be a woman, to belong to a man. It was glorious!

“Your Grace?”

Kassie blinked, surprised to see Margaret watching her expectantly.

“I’m sorry … what did you say, Margaret?”

A knowing gaze took in the slight flush of Kassie’s cheeks and the sparkle in her blue-green eyes.

“I asked if you would like something warm to drink to help you sleep.” Margaret’s lips twitched. “Although I must say you don’t look at all tired.”

Kassie dimpled, too elated to be embarrassed. “I’m not,” she confessed softly. “In fact, sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.” She turned in her seat and took Margaret’s hand. “I’m so happy,” she whispered.

Margaret squeezed Kassie’s hand. “I can see that. Having His Grace home is obviously just what you needed.”

“Oh, yes, it is!” Kassie agreed, rushing on breathlessly. “But it’s not only having Braden home, it’s that I finally feel …” She broke off as common sense asserted itself over her uninhibited need to share her joy with the loving woman who was becoming more a mother to her every day. How could she share such an intimate thing with anyone? But how could she keep it inside when she was bursting with her own awakening?

Margaret read the warring emotions on Kassie’s face with understanding and tenderness. “I know, lovey,” she said gently, her gaze conveying more than her words. “I know.”

“Then you must also know that I couldn’t even
think
of sleeping!”

“Fine,” Margaret said, chuckling. “Your bed is turned down, and the novel you are so absorbed in is on your nightstand. Why don’t you read until you become tired?”

Kassie nodded, rising from her seat. “I’ll do that, Margaret. And you go off to bed … it is late.”

Margaret stroked Kassie’s glowing curls. “I’ll just braid your hair, and then I’ll be off.”

“Leave it loose.”

Braden’s deep baritone made both women start. Neither had heard him come in, yet he leaned against the open doorway that connected his bedchamber to Kassie’s. He was still fully clothed, but there was no mistaking the husky command in his voice nor the heated look in his eyes.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace,” Margaret replied, recovering herself at once and beaming her approval in Braden’s direction. “Then if there is nothing further the duchess needs, I’ll say good night.”

Kassie was staring at Braden. “Good night, Margaret,” she murmured. Vaguely she heard the door close, signifying Margaret’s departure.

Braden began to advance slowly toward Kassie, raking her lush, explicit curves with his hot gaze. In truth, he had come only to say good night, to hold her for a moment before they retired, to make certain that she was all right after their unexpected, fervent lovemaking. He had hurt her; undoubtedly she would be sore for days due to his total loss of control. Making love to her again was the furthest thing from his mind.

Until he saw the openly hungry look in her eyes.

“You are ready for bed,” Braden heard himself say in a hoarse voice.

“I’m not tired.”

His loins tightened at her hasty response. “Good.” He stopped mere inches before her, reaching out to glide his fingers through her thick tresses. “I hope you didn’t mind my request. It’s just that it would be a sin to restrict such a silken treasure as this.”

Kassie could hardly breathe. “I don’t mind,” she whispered.

Never taking his eyes from hers, Braden gathered a handful of her shining curls and buried his face in them. “I’m glad,” he murmured, “because there are some things that are too rare, too exquisite to hide.” He slid his other hand up her bare arm, feeling her tremble at his touch. “Your hair is one of those things.” In one swift gesture he released her hair and seized both straps of her night rail, tugging them off her shoulders until the gown slid down her body into a satin pool at her feet. “So is your body,” he breathed in a husky whisper that was filled with forbidden promise.

“Braden …” Kassie reached up to stroke his face, unashamedly breathtaking in her nudity.

Desire crashed through Braden’s body in great, unrelenting waves, pounding through his veins and exploding into a tidal wave of need that nearly brought him to his knees. Without a word he swept Kassie up into his shaking arms and carried her through the doorway and into his room, lowering her upon the unmade bed. For reasons he refused to examine Braden needed to make love to Kassie here, in his domain, to possess her in the most fundamental way possible, to reestablish that she was totally and irrevocably his.

He stood, his chest heaving with each labored breath, and drank in every detail of Kassie’s beauty. His gaze locked with hers, singeing her with the undisguised flames that burned in the hazel depths.

“God, how I want you,” he rasped, beyond all reason or sanity.

Kassie opened her arms to him, holding nothing back. Wordlessly she offered him all of herself, everything she felt shining in her eyes.

Braden tore off his clothing, falling upon her like a man starved. “Kassandra.” He whispered her name reverently, covering her mouth with his and taking all that she silently promised. He kissed her deeply, urgently, shuddering helplessly as she wound her arms around his neck, stroked her hands down his back. He was lost and he knew it, and a voice inside him cried out its warning. But it went unheeded, for nothing mattered now but Kassie and making her his again.

Already aroused beyond control, Braden fought the frantic need to pull Kassie beneath him and drive himself as deeply as possible inside her welcoming warmth. He craved her flesh as he had never craved anything in his life, and his body throbbed helplessly against hers, begging for admittance.

Braden refused to give in to his body’s demand. For he felt another need, one far stronger than his need for release. He needed to bind Kassie to him, to make her so completely his that the memory of their joining would forever burn in her mind and in her heart.

He lifted his head. “I want you,” he repeated in a raw voice.

“You have me, Braden,” she whispered back. “You always have.”

“All of you,” he demanded.

“All of me” was the soft affirmation.

As if to challenge her words, Braden caught both her hands in his and lifted them over her head. He buried his lips against her neck, taking light, nipping tastes of her skin, reveling in the soft sounds of pleasure that came from deep in her throat and vibrated against his mouth. “Tell me what you want, Kassie … tell me where you ache for me.” Braden’s lips made a slow trail down to Kassie’s breast. “Here, love? Do you need me here?”

Kassie’s answer was a soft cry, her body arching helplessly up to his seeking mouth.

It was answer enough.

Braden took what she offered, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and circling with his tongue until Kassie whimpered, her hips undulating involuntarily in an age-old plea for more.