Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes) (38 page)

“Yes.” Her voice sounded so small, so uncertain, and she
needed so much to convince him otherwise. “I trust you.”

He frowned. His mouth was set in a firm, grim line, as if he
would to dispute her claim.

Oh, Bollocks! Were they going to start arguing again?

 “When did that come about?” Donovan said with a roughened
voice. “In the last hour?”

He did have a point. This man was not as easily fooled as
she would believe.

“Yes, well . . . it’s been coming on slowly, over the past
week.”

He gazed at her, intently, searching her eyes for the merest
hint of deceit. Elizabeth steeled herself, willing herself not to falter and
give away her apprehension. Her heart thundered in her chest. She prayed he
could not hear its treacherous drumbeat. She licked her lips, waiting for him
to stop staring at her with the intensity of an inquisitor questioning a witch.

Donovan noticed her slight capitulation. He followed her
tongue across her lips with his eyes. “You trust me?”

She nodded.

“But you are still afraid, aren’t you.” It was not a
question.

“Uncertain, a little uneasy, yes.” She softened the verb,
watered it down to be nearly as meaningless as possible. “It’s only to be
expected. I am still a maid.”

His lips turned into a wan smile. “You are a courageous
lass.”

His finger wound around a stray lock hanging near her ear.
He brought it to his lips, kissing the coppery ringlet captured in his finger.
“I prefer a lass with a bit of spirit.” He whispered, and brushed a kiss across
her lips. It was brief, chaste and oh, so enticing.

Donovan drew back, watching her, smiling a little more as he
gauged her reaction. He released her hair, traced a path along her temple and
then her chin with his forefinger. “You are a handful.” He chided, his eyes
alight.

He leaned close, kissing her once more, tasting her lips
briefly, retreating and then returning to linger and tease her lips again and
again. It was like a dance. Come forward, embrace, step lightly, and then
retreat. Elizabeth was tingling with anticipation.

Each brush of his lips was a little longer, a little more
insistent.

She kissed him back, anxious to prove her enthusiasm. She
missed this potent, beguiling side of him, missed the precious hours they spent
kissing so in his cabin on The Pegasus. It seemed a lifetime ago, a romantic
dream that she had began to fear never happened except in her imagination.

But this, no, this was real; this was the Donovan she fell
in love with.

Donovan’s light fingers traced the outside of her arm, down
and then back up to circle her shoulder. Down to her elbow and then up, up the
inside of her arm. She sighed, and leaned into him, welcoming his kiss, his
touch.

His tongue traced her lips, teasing, taunting until she
opened her mouth to welcome his bold exploration. He’d kissed her like this a
few times on the ship, but when he had breached her defenses thus far
successfully, he would end their kissing sessions.

Elizabeth wrapped her arm about his neck, hoping to hold him
this time, to see where the kiss might lead if allowed to go further than the
brief inspection of her mouth by his tongue.

He didn’t pull away. His palm pressed over her breast,
cupping her so gently it bordered on reverence. As his fingers moved lightly
over her sensitive breast, it brought an answering burst of longing for him low
in her belly. The more he caressed her breast, the more she seemed to want him
to. Elizabeth could not contain a moan.

The noise startled him. He withdrew his hand and gazed at her
with worried eyes. “If you wish me to stop—“

“No—no.” She insisted. She didn’t want him to leave her.
This time, she wanted him to follow through and bring them to the end of it, bring
her to a sense of . . . fullness, completion? She didn’t know the words, only
the need his touch evoked within her; the need to belong to him completely.

“Elizabeth.” He said sternly. “If you need me to stop you’ve
only to say so. I swear to you, nothing will happen tonight that you do not
wish to.”

She nodded, agreeing with him and placed her hand on his cheek.
She leaned in and kissed him. She trusted this man.

“I love you.” He whispered, placing his hand at the back of
her head as he drew her in for another breathless kiss. She loved the feeling of
being held tight against him and kissed with such passion it seemed their souls
were colliding in the quest to become one.

Elizabeth was distantly aware of being guided back against
the pillows so she was lying on her back. Donovan was curled on his side next
to her. She traced the firm contours of his shoulders, reveling in the rugged
power of his masculine form. He was hard, like marble, yet warm and smooth. She
encountered the scars on his back, and caressed their ropey contours with
devotion. They were not repulsive. The scars forged him into the tender man she
loved.

His mouth left hers to trail warm kisses along her neck and
then paused at her breast. She exhaled as he kissed the tip and gently took it
into his mouth. She rubbed and stroked his rigid bicep, following the ropey
contours of his forearm to his hand. He responded by clutching her hand and
bringing it to his lips to plant a soft kiss in the center of her palm. “I love
you, Lizzie.”

“I love you.” She responded, as the buoyant feeling soared
inside her. Yes, she loved this gallant, irritating, beautiful, arrogant man.
She wanted to erase the loneliness she sensed in him, absolve the guilt that
haunted his soul.

The brush of his fingers along her hip made her squirm with
anxiety. Donovan’s face lifted from her breast. He was watching her again,
gauging her reaction.

“It tickles.” She told him, smiling to dispel the worry in
his eyes. “I’m ticklish.”

“Are you?” His devilish look warned her she’d regret the
confession.

His head dipped, he kissed her other breast and blew softly
on the nipple after moistening it with his tongue. It was unbelievably
exquisite, the warm, moist air of his breath caressing her in a way she
couldn’t imagine. Donovan inched up to kiss her mouth, bringing a sweet sense
of fulfillment, and at the same moment evoking an intolerable need.

The large, firm hand once more slid purposefully down her
hip and along her outer thigh. This time, she didn’t flinch. He caressed her
knee with his fingertips, and traced a path along the inside of her thigh.
Elizabeth stiffened, preparing for a rough invasion as she recalled the
smugglers groping her as they surrounded her that night.
Coarse, cruel
hands. Male laughter. Pinching fingers caused pain and sought her humiliation
as they reveled in her terrified cries.

 “Easy love.” Donovan whispered, bringing her back to him
again. His hand glided firmly over her hip, back and forth, comforting in its
heaviness. “It’s me. Let me caress your delicate lotus petals. Let me give you
pleasure. I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

She was panting. She’d panicked, frozen, fallen into that
dark place again—and he knew precisely what was happening to her. He knew. And
he was trying to help her past it.

“I’m fine.” She whispered, eyeing him with conviction and
praying he would believe her. She didn’t want him to turn back.

“Ah, you’re a fine lass.” He returned in a silken voice. “A
fine, courageous lass.”

Elizabeth snuggled closer to him, trying to convey with her
body the words she was too timid to speak.

And then she had an idea. “Am I allowed to touch you?” She honestly
didn’t know.

He seemed puzzled by her inquiry. “I’m yours. Touch me as
you wish, Mrs. Beaumont.”

Elizabeth skimmed light fingers over his abdomen and his hip
just as he had caressed her. She caressed his leg, enjoying the firmness
beneath her hand, the power in those well muscled thighs she’d admired so often
in tight doeskin breeches. She tentatively stroked his taut bum, giggling as
she did so, feeling naughty. She liked cupping that firm curve.

Donovan grinned at her girlish giggles. He patiently watched
her trace his body in a leisurely exploration. The only part of him she avoided
was the rigid mound straining to be freed of his breeches. She wasn’t ready for
that, not yet. She edged around it and caressed his ribbed abdomen and hard chest.
Elizabeth was oddly calmed by the exercise.

Noting the change in her, Donovan leaned low to kiss her
with infinite tenderness.

Elizabeth was further bolstered by the gentle caress of his
lips, no longer demanding or searching, but sweetly caressing with unstinting
devotion.

She wrapped her arms about his neck, inviting him to deepen
the kiss. They melted together in a satisfying kiss that seemed to have no end.
Donovan’s hand moved along her hip, a soothing gesture of possession and
comfort. She leaned against him, wanting to be closer, to understand the heady
need each kiss and persistent caress wrought deep within her.

The moment came again; his hand on her inner thigh. This
time, the tip of his finger brushed over her delicate folds. Elizabeth started slightly
but clung to him instead of retreating from his touch as she willed herself to
permit his intimate exploration.

Donovan whispered sweet words to her. He paused with his
hand posed at her entrance, waiting for her to accept his intrusion into her feminine
flesh. She showed her acceptance of his intent by kissing his neck, leaving
soft, moist trails of devotion along his sun kissed skin.

His physician’s hands were gentle as they explored her
sensitive flesh. Elizabeth never imagined a man’s caress could be so tender or
so clever as to bring shudders of unbelievable delight as her body responded in
a way her mind could not comprehend. She sagged against the pillows,
surrendering to his bold caress and to the astonishing sensations he awakened
in her untried body.

She felt buoyed up on a breeze, lost in the wondrous feeling
of pure, unexpected bliss.

Yet, beneath the pleasure a savage need was growing inside
her, a need for more.

He slid a finger inside her moist channel. And then she
knew. Elizabeth understood. What she yearned for so urgently was Donovan. His
intimate touch had awakened a primitive desire to take him inside of her. She’d
been so concerned about meeting his needs, doing her duty by giving him the
pleasure of her body she failed to consider there could be pleasure in
surrender.

He withdrew his finger, but before she could offer protest
at the loss, that light forefinger returned to a sensitive place within her
slick lotus petals, as he’d dubbed her womanly flesh. The exquisite sensation made
her writhe and gasp beneath his finger as she was lifted into another plateau
of raw, unexpected yet wondrously sensual delight.

Elizabeth gasped and shuddered as pure waves of undulating
pleasure washed over her again and again to crest at last with an explosive
power that ultimately overwhelmed her.

She lay quietly, her eyes closed, just breathing for several
seconds as she slowly floated back to the solid earth.

As she opened her eyes Donovan was watching her with a
pleased smile.

She knew what he was thinking. She would not allow it. He
was going to say that this was enough for one night. Before he could say it,
she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his inexpressibles. “Take them
off. Before I get cold feet and change my mind.” Even as she said it, her teeth
were chattering. Not from cold. She was still recovering from the explosion of
pleasure he’d wrought in her. Elizabeth tugged at his manhood, no longer
feeling craven about it. She grasped him beneath the fabric, demanding him to
emerge to fulfill the bargain begun.

Donovan peeled the fabric back, freeing himself from his
bonds. Elizabeth swallowed, a moan rising in her throat. Seeing that rigid male
organ displayed in full battle array, poised to invade her tender flesh was
nearly her undoing. Donovan’s big hand lifted her chin, averting her eyes from
the display of potent male power and guiding her to gaze at his face. He moved
and settled himself between her legs, hovering over her, his weight on his
forearms, waiting.

“Are you certain?” It pained her that he still felt he
needed to ask.

“Yes. I trust you, Donovan.”

“It will hurt a little the first time, only for a moment.”

Elizabeth nodded. She knew that. She placed her arms about
his waist, urging him to drop down to put his full weight on her instead of
hovering above her. She wanted it over with, plain and simple. She wanted to
belong to him in every way.

He lowered himself and she felt the inflexible granite spear
poised at her entrance. He was big, so big. She took a breath, steeling herself
for the expected pain.

Donovan kissed her, leisurely, tenderly. She closed her
eyes, and focused on that kiss.

With one quick thrust, he was inside of her.

Oh, God
! Elizabeth moaned and buried her face in his
shoulder. She wanted to scream, but quelled the urge as that would surely upset
him. It felt like she was being impaled.

“Breathe, just breathe, and relax. You’ll stretch and relax
around me and then it won’t hurt.” He held perfectly still inside her, waiting
for her to ‘relax’ as he said.

Relax? How does one do that with a pike shoved inside
them?

She gasped, several times, trying to overcome the panic at
being so wholly possessed. It took more than a second. It took more than a
minute. Gradually, she felt her pierced flesh relax around his imposing shaft.
As he promised, it stopped hurting so much. She felt very full, as if her flesh
were stretched too tight having him there . . . and then it started to feel
sort of nice.

Sensing the change as her body slowly accepted him, Donovan
began to move. He withdrew slowly, almost completely. And then he gracefully
glided inside her again, filling her with himself.