Andrea Kane (12 page)

Ariana opened her eyes in time to see Trenton’s ravenous gaze rake her nakedness, lingering hungrily on the auburn curls between her thighs. Instinctively, she reached down to cover herself.

“Don’t.” He caught her hand in his, a look of stark longing on his face. “You’re exquisite. Don’t ever, ever hide yourself from me.”

Ariana’s protest dissipated, not at his command, but at the genuine emotion on his face, in his voice. She relaxed, silently giving her husband free reign of her body.

Trenton brought her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers. “Close your eyes,” he instructed softly. “Close your eyes and feel.”

Ariana’s eyes drifted shut.

She felt his breath tease her sensitized skin as his warm mouth descended, and her stomach contracted with pleasure.

“Do you like this?” he murmured, pressing hot kisses across her abdomen, cupping her hips and massaging her soft bottom with the tips of his fingers.

“Yes … oh, yes …”

“Good. And this?” He knelt between her legs, lifting her foot to his mouth, kissing the smooth arch, the dainty sole, wetting her tingling skin with his tongue, biting lightly to intensify the sensation. Ariana moaned. “Good,” he whispered, moving to the curve of her ankle, her calf, the delicate slope of her knee. Ariana shivered uncontrollably, whimpered for him to stop, then sighed with disappointment when he complied.

“Don’t …” she protested in a breathy whisper.

“I won’t.”

Ariana’s body leapt with pleasure as Trenton turned his attentions to her other leg.

“And this? Do you like this, misty angel?” He shifted a bit higher on the bed, his open mouth caressing her warm inner thigh.

The ecstasy was so acute she couldn’t answer.

“Good,” he replied as if she’d spoken. He eased her legs apart, settled himself between them. Open-mouthed, he teased first one thigh, then the other, moving higher and higher, tasting every satin inch of skin until he’d reached the exquisite joining that defined her womanhood. “And most especially, this,” he breathed, burying his mouth in her sweetness.

Suspended on the dazzling threshold of passion, Ariana never uttered the token protest that formed in her mind, for it dispelled into nothing before ever reaching her lips. The rapture erupted inside her in a blaze, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure so acute it was like pain. She tossed her head on the pillow, taut with a need she had never imagined and an urgency she didn’t understand. All she knew was that something inside her coiled so tightly, clawed so powerfully, that if it didn’t ease she would die. She called out to Trenton, begged him to help her, greedily arching into each wildly erotic plunge of his tongue.

Abruptly, he stopped, and Ariana sobbed a protest, beyond coherent thought, beyond any thought at all.

He loomed over her, his body shuddering more powerfully than hers. “I’m too selfish,” he ground out. “I want you with me, not alone.” He vaulted from the bed, leaving Ariana dying.

“Trenton … please …” she pleaded, pride insignificant beside the unendurable ache he’d created inside her. “I can’t … bear it.”

“You don’t have to.” He tore off his robe, lowering his sweat-drenched body over hers, providing Ariana with her shocking first glimpse of a naked man. “Open to me,” he commanded, his face, his tone, harsh with need. “Let me in … deep, deep inside you. Filling all of you with all of me.” He lifted her legs, placed them around his waist, leaving her totally open to his penetration. He paused. “Ariana, look at me.”

Ariana tore her gaze from his huge, rigid erection, looking up at him with stunned eyes.

“My bewitching misty angel,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with a shaking hand. “So dazed, so passionate.” He inhaled sharply. “Are you frightened?”

Ariana’s body screamed for relief. “Will it hurt?”

He fought the reflexive motion of his hips, already urging him into her. “At first… yes.”

Ariana closed her eyes, totally, maddeningly on fire. She felt her husband lock his arms on either side of her head, battling for a control he no longer possessed. And all because he didn’t want to cause her pain.

Slowly, Ariana’s eyes opened, gazing directly into Trenton’s tortured stare. With quivering fingers and innate perception, she reached down and guided him into her, feeling his body jolt with urgency, his life pulse beneath her fingertips. “I’m not frightened,” she whispered.

“Ariana …” he choked out, his features contorting with passion. He pressed deeper into her, stretching her delicate flesh with his powerful invasion, filling her so totally she gasped.

Instantly, he stopped. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” she answered in breathless wonder.

He eased deeper, deeper still, until he reached the thin veil of her maidenhood. His chest heaved with each breath, his hips circled spontaneously, readying her for his possession. Slowly, gently, he slid his hand between them, finding and caressing the delicate, swollen bud of her passion, gliding his thumb over her dewy wetness, repeating the caress again and again until Ariana cried out, arched her back for more.

“Yes, misty angel … like that, yes.” He thrust into her, taking her from girlhood to womanhood in one famished, irrevocable stroke.

Slices of pain cut through the cresting pleasure, and Ariana bit back her anguished cry, digging her nails into the sheets and squeezing her eyes shut. She felt torn in two, filled to bursting, raw and aching.

Trenton held himself completely still, balancing his weight on his elbows and staring down into his wife’s pale face. Two tears slid out from beneath her long lashes and trickled down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” she heard him murmur. “I won’t have to hurt you anymore. I promise.” He slid his fingers between them once more, stroking ever so lightly, bending his head to her breast, drawing the still-hard nipple into his mouth and bathing it with his tongue.

Ariana felt the impact of his ardent seduction, her body responding on cue, coming back to life beneath his expert touch. But it was the tender concern in his voice she reveled in, opened her eyes to, gave herself to.

Moving sensuously, eagerly beneath him, she curled her arms around her husband’s neck, showing him she wanted him with every fiber of her being.

Trenton gritted his teeth. “Is the pain gone?”

“Nearly.” Ariana shifted restlessly into Trenton’s caressing hand, the movement driving him deeper inside her, increasing the exquisite friction where his rigid shaft stretched her moist, sensitive softness. Ariana whimpered with pleasure, and Trenton threw back his head, emitting a low sound of pure animal need.

“Damn it, Ariana,” he growled, his eyes darkening to nearly black. “I’m not a saint.” He was already moving, unable to hold back any longer.

“That feels so good,” she whispered, awed and totally oblivious to Trenton’s warning.

With a husky laugh, he bent his head, covering her mouth with his, gliding his hands beneath her silky bottom to lift her into his thrusts. “Ah, misty angel, my beautiful, innocent seductress,” he murmured, drawing back only to press deep within her once more. “You burn me down to my soul.” He bit lightly at her lower lip. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“You.
I want
you,
Trenton.” The frantic feeling had returned, her body wild for release.

He stared down at her for an endless moment, taking in her rosy cheeks and flushed breasts, her shallow breathing, the helpless arching of her body beneath his. A look of raw, naked emotion crossed his face just before he took her mouth purposefully, ready to give her what she so desperately craved.

Penetrating her mouth with his tongue, Trenton drew Ariana’s hips up to meet the powerful surge of his. Again and again he repeated the dual motion, possessing her so totally she couldn’t breathe, nor did she want to.

The tidal wave of sensation roared to life inside her once more, drowning her in its wake, and Ariana struggled recklessly for that elusive relief that hovered just out of her reach.

“Don’t fight, love,” Trenton panted into her open mouth. “Let me take you there. Trust me.”

Ariana stopped struggling at once.

She felt Trenton’s hands tighten on her hips, his thrusts become deeper, more powerful, faster. Ariana’s nails scored his back, her cries mounted with each plunging thrust. Fervently, her body tightened around his, beneath his. And all the while he breathed hot, explicit instructions in her ear, guided her from one shimmering plateau to another, until they teetered on the highest precipice, plummeted over its magnificent edge.

The tidal wave burst, sending waves and waves of sheer, dazzling euphoria exploding inside her, cresting and falling with each spasm of her body. She cried out his name, heard his exultant shout of release, and then there was only the wondrous feeling of being crushed in his arms, the very essence of him pouring into her body, melding her climax with his own.

And at last there was peace.

T
IMELESS, LANGUOROUS MINUTES ELAPSED.

Ariana sank into the mattress, blanketed beneath Trenton’s solid weight, dimly aware that his sweat-drenched body was still shuddering with powerful aftershocks. Reality held at bay, she drifted, her limbs weak as water, her mind floating on clouds of contentment. So this was the glorious aftermath of passion, this feeling of incomparable oneness. She closed her eyes.
Please,
she prayed silently,
never let it end.

Long moments later, Trenton raised his head, gazing wearily down at his wife through sober, sated eyes.

Feeling his scrutiny, Ariana forced her lids to open, and what she saw on Trenton’s face made her heart leap with happiness. His expression was unguarded, devoid of its customary anger and arrogance, filled with awe … and a touch of remorse.

Instinctively, Ariana reached up, erasing the lines of concern from his forehead with gentle strokes of her fingertips, gliding her hand through the damp, silky texture of his hair.

Trenton bent to kiss her soft, bruised lips. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, giving him a shy smile. “Yes. A bit crushed, but fine.”

Instantly he eased off her, frowning when she flinched at his withdrawal. “You’re in pain.”

“No,” she quickly denied, unwilling to relinquish this wonderful new intimacy that flowed between them. Never having imagined such closeness existed, she longed to preserve the wondrous bond they had just forged with their bodies. “I’m not in pain. Just discomfort.”

She wanted to sob out a protest when Trenton rolled to his feet and left her, crossing the room to fill the china basin with cool water. Alone in the massive bed, bereft and unsure, Ariana felt abandoned, insignificant and utterly alone. For the briefest of instants, she seriously considered begging him to come back and hold her, then dismissed the notion as nonsensical. Trenton would think she had lost her mind.

Perhaps she had.

Raising her head, Ariana studied him candidly. He was bronzed, magnificent and as totally oblivious to his own nakedness as he was to the loneliness settling heavily on her heart. She sat up straighter, the sheet falling to her waist, making her abruptly aware of her own nudity.

Hastily, she covered herself, wondering what Trenton expected of her now. She could hardly excuse herself and leave, as this was her bedroom. Should she rise and don her nightgown? Act nonchalant and pretend nothing was changed? Impossible.

She watched him pour water on a clean cloth, chewing her lip nervously and wishing she had thought to ask Theresa questions about what happened
afterward.
Would he speak of what had transpired between them and expect her to do the same? Would he sleep in her bed or retire to his own room now that their marriage had been consummated?

With total candor, Ariana admitted to herself that she longed to have him spend the night beside her. Was that improper? Her lips twitched at the thought.
Everything
she’d felt and done tonight had been improper. Improper and absolutely wonderful.

Hesitantly, she searched for the right words to say, words that would convince him to stay without sounding foolish and pathetic. Perhaps he read her thoughts, for, to her joyous surprise, he turned and walked back, pausing beside the bed with the cloth in his hand.

Seeing her uncertain expression, Trenton smiled. “Let me ease this ache as well.” He sat beside her and peeled away the sheet, gently sliding her thighs apart to cleanse her.

Ariana tensed, instinctively closing her legs and catching his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’m alleviating your soreness.” He smoothed the rumpled tendrils from her cheeks, giving her a look of pure male satisfaction. “Your modesty is a bit belated, wouldn’t you say?” He brought her fingers to his lips, unable to disguise the husky possessiveness in his voice. “Considering that I’ve just caressed and tasted every inch of you?”

Ariana blushed scarlet and lowered her eyes.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured solemnly. “Let me.”

Ariana felt herself responding to Trenton’s sensual command with the same innate trust he always seemed to elicit from her. Silently, she relaxed her legs, watching him wash the insides of her thighs ever so gently with the soothing cloth. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood.

“I’ll never have to hurt you again,” he promised quietly, answering her unspoken question.

She nodded, following the motions of his hands as they came to rest at the junction of her thighs. She sighed with pleasure at the exquisite relief of the cool compress on her raw, sensitive flesh … relief followed by a tingle of pleasure.

“Feel good?”

She started. How could he know?

“Yes.” He answered for her, his voice deep, rich.

“Yes,” she breathed, blushing anew as she remembered what he had been doing when he had last asked that question of her.

Trenton chuckled, stroking softly. “Such a wonderful embodiment of contradictions, misty angel. So passionate, so very shy.”

“As are you.”

His dark brows rose in amusement. “Passionate? Or shy?”

“Neither. I mean … well, yes, but what I meant was an embodiment of contradictions.”