His Untamed Innocent Page 10

  She felt the softness of the pillows at her back, the crispness of the sheets against her skin. But as he began to take off his robe Marin turned away quickly, reaching for the switch of the single lamp glowing on the night table, her inherent shyness tightening her throat at the thought of seeing him naked, and in reality instead of imagination.

  Of actually being with him naked.

  But Jake was too quick for her, leaning across as he lay down beside her to capture her wrist and bring her hand back to his body, flattening it against his chest, the swift thud of his heart mirroring her own accelerated pulse rate.

  He whispered, ‘Sweetheart, I need to see you. To look into your eyes. And I need you to see me too.’

  And, gathering her to him, he kissed her again, his mouth irresistibly demanding as it moved on hers, the force of his erection hard against her thighs.

  Sensation crowded upon her, making her dizzy. The cool beguiling scent of his skin was all around her, the taut muscularity of his shoulders beneath her hands as she held him, returning his kisses with undreamed-of urgency.

  Jake let his lips drift slowly down her throat to her breasts, suckling them gently as his tongue resumed its delectable arousal of their rosebud peaks. She felt the throb of aching need reverberating through her whole body, echoing deep in her loins, and she put a fist to her mouth, damming back the tiny, betraying sounds that would reveal the depths of her craving for him.

  His mouth moved downward, across her breathless midriff to the satin of her belly and the indentation of her navel, his tongue tracing its whorls with minute accuracy.

  His hands slipped down her body, moulding her slim hips then sliding beneath them, cupping her buttocks as he raised her towards him so he could kiss her thighs and rub his cheek lingeringly against their smoothness. Before bending to her again with new and devastating purpose.

  Marin could hear the thunder of her quickened heartbeat as a small, frantic voice in her head told her, no, this couldn’t be happening. He would not, could not, really be intending to…

  Because, if so, she must stop him now—now…

  Or it would be too late….

  Only to feel his mouth warm and sensuous as it caressed the silken mound at the joining of her thighs, silently coaxing her legs to part and allow him the ultimate access he sought. Making her realise that denial was no longer an option, even if she could force some kind of protest from her dry throat.

  And then all thinking halted, her mind going into free fall as she allowed him to have his way. She became aware of nothing but the devastating mastery of his tongue as it flickered on her, seeking her tiny nub of sensitive flesh, teasing it until it had swollen into an agony of total sensation.

  Then, just when she thought she could bear no more, finding that his caress had changed. That he was now skilfully laving and stroking all the burning, secret places of her womanhood, probing their slick, moist depths, making her writhe beneath him in a ferment of sensation bordering on anguish.

  Just before he returned slowly and quite deliberately to her little erect bud, tantalising it softly to a renewed pitch of intensity that she had not realised could exist or that she could possibly experience.

  Before he drew her with an infinity of expertise to some unimagined brink and held her there as her head thrashed on the pillow and a silent scream rose in her throat.

  Before, between one heartbeat and the next, he finally took her across the edge into the unknown. The unbelievable.

  Her amazed body arched beneath his mouth as the first throbbing convulsions of a pleasure that was almost pain imploded inside her. She heard herself cry out loud, a harsh, broken sound, her body shaking uncontrollably with the violence of the spasms tearing through her as they reached their zenith, then began by degrees to subside.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN IT WAS over, Marin lay very still, her body limp and slackened, trying to comprehend what had just happened to her but failing utterly.

  To tell herself she’d reached her first climax would do no kind of justice to the incredible, irresistible force Jake had released in her. Or his skill in achieving it, she thought, her body blooming with warmth.

  She felt him move, raise himself above her and look down into her dazed, incredulous eyes. His own gaze was faintly questioning, and she responded silently, lifting a hand to touch his still-damp hair and stroke his face, running her fingers almost wonderingly over the slight shadowing of stubble along his jawline.

  Jake captured her hand and brought it to his lips, caressing its palm, then grazing the soft mound at the base of her thumb with his teeth, and she felt the enticement of it shiver sweetly through her nerve-endings.

  He took her hand back to his chest, back to the harsh rhythm of his heartbeat. He whispered, ‘Touch me,’ and lay back against the pillows, his eyes half-closed, waiting for her.

  At first, her compliance was hesitant, but gradually, as she discovered the marvellous strength of bone structure and play of muscle under her fingertips, she forgot everything but the overwhelming need to know him. To learn and enjoy the texture of his skin and the planes, angles and curves of his lean, firm body. To hear him sigh with pleasure as her hands became more confident, more daring, until finally she reached his loins and the jutting male strength of him, her hands trembling as she clasped him, fondling him gently, aware that her own excitement was starting to build again. The memory of her own delight still potent, she bent her head, caressing him shyly with her lips.

  ‘Darling.’ His voice was a hoarse groan. ‘Oh Christ, my sweet…’

  He moved, lifting himself over her. Started with immense care to enter her, easing his way into the wet, yielding heat of her willing flesh.

  She felt a brief, burning pressure, and gasped. Felt him pause, sensing her sudden tension and, knowing that he could not—must not stop, she grasped his shoulders, raising herself towards him in blind and total surrender. Offering herself to the one long, controlled thrust that sheathed him in her with utter completeness, the pain of her body’s resistance over almost as soon as it had begun.

  When it was done, Jake stayed very still, his blue gaze quietly watchful, as if anticipating some other sign of reluctance or discomfort from her. And she looked back at him, wanting to let him know that she was ready and more than willing to give him everything he wanted from her. And smiled, breathing his name.

  He bent his head, kissing her smile with his own, and began to move in her, his loins barely rocking against hers in the gentlest of motions. Marin felt the sweetness of this new rhythm in her blood, her bones. Found her response to it as natural, as necessary as drawing her next breath. But was bewildered by it just the same, because it wasn’t what she’d expected.

  Of course, what she knew about men and their behaviour during sex was less than minimal, she reminded herself as her breathing quickened helplessly, but she’d imagined rather more—urgency would be involved in his need for satisfaction.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Jake asked softly.

  Her voice was a small, husky croak. ‘I don’t understand. Don’t you want to…?’

  ‘Very much,’ he said. ‘But I’m waiting for you.’

  ‘For me?’ Marin stared up at him. ‘But I won’t—I couldn’t…’ She broke off, her colour deepening helplessly.

  ‘No?’ He was smiling again as he shifted, subtly altering his position, his movement inside her slow and smooth but at the same time more forceful. His mouth was warm and lingering on her parted, astonished lips. Hot and demanding on the hardening excitement of her nipples.

  He pushed more deeply into her, withdrew a little, then pushed again, reaching some secret place far inside her and creating another kind of new and exquisite sensation there with an erotic mastery that had her twisting helplessly under him, her mind and will wiped of everything but the wicked, beautiful things his body was doing to hers.

  There. There…

  She said, her voice drowning, ‘Oh, God, no—no,’ as
she felt the first quivers of ecstatic abandonment rippling within her, then building fiercely to their inexorable crescendo, her muscles clenching powerfully around him.

  And heard Jake’s harsh groans of rapture as he at last allowed himself to attain his own release.

  She was aware of quietude and a profound peace. Of lying still wrapped in his arms, their bodies joined, his dark head against her breasts. Of sudden, unexpected tears on her face.

  And, as if he was aware of this last reaction, he separated from her with the same care he’d used in his possession of her, gently drying her wet face with a corner of the sheet then stroking her dishevelled hair as he held her, his voice a soothing murmur.

  Eventually, she said, mumbling, ‘I’m not sad—really, I’m not.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He kissed her eyes and her lips.

  ‘I wanted you to know that.’ She tried to stifle a yawn and failed. ‘Oh God,’ she added, mortified. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ He switched off the lamp and drew her close to him, pillowing her head on his chest. ‘We could both do with some sleep.’

  Sleep? thought Marin. How could she possibly do that with everything that had just happened still churning in her mind?

  Especially when she’d never shared a bed before with anyone before—let alone a man.

  But she hadn’t expected to find his warm body so comfortable to relax against, or the resonance of his heartbeat under her cheek so soothing, she told herself with a little contented sigh. And slept.

  A pale, grey light was beginning to penetrate the room when she opened her eyes. For a moment Marin lay still, slightly disorientated, aware of little more than the delicious lassitude permeating her entire being, wondering drowsily what had disturbed her slumber.

  Then she turned her head slowly and saw Jake propped up on one elbow, watching her, and realised with a lift of her heart that she’d been woken by the touch of his lips.

  ‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Remember me?’

  She stretched languidly, deliberately, observing the flare of his blue gaze as the covering sheet slipped down her body. She pretended to frown.

  ‘I’m not altogether sure. Maybe you could—jog my memory?’

  ‘With pleasure.’ His hand cupped her breast, the ball of his thumb rubbing slowly across the nipple. ‘Does that strike a chord?’

  ‘Mmm,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘Something seems to be stirring in the back of my mind.’

  ‘Is that all?’ There was a quiver of open amusement in his voice as he let his hand slide down her body to the soft mound at the junction of her thighs. ‘Maybe—this will be more help…’

  It was suddenly difficult to breathe or even to think as his fingers caressed her, lightly, teasingly. She managed, ‘If you could be—a little more specific…’

  And made a sound between a laugh and a sob of delight as he pulled her towards him, under him, raising her legs to lock round him as he entered her.

  Impossible, she thought, her senses in free fall as she clung to his shoulders, that she could be so ready for him. Impossible, even shameful, that she should be so eager—so hungry, enclosing him in her moist and willing heat, as her body offered the counterpoint to each firm and powerful thrust that was carrying her away with him to heaven.

  Even so he made her wait, keeping her balanced for an eternity on some knife-edge of trembling desire before driving her into the harsh sweetness of orgasm. And when she cried out, her voice ragged, she heard him answer her.

  She slept again, wrapped in his arms, and awoke to the first streaks of sunrise. They had moved a little apart at some point, and Marin turned on to her side, letting her eyes explore every detail of the magnificent, naked body sprawled beside her. The first time, she realised, she had ever really looked at him. Or had the leisure to do so, she conceded, a mischievous smile curving her lips.

  Her first hint that he was awake and fully aware of her fascinated scrutiny was his politely uttered, ‘Good morning.’

  She jumped guiltily. ‘Thank you. And an even better one to you.’ She paused. ‘So—you do have an all-over tan.’

  His eyes opened and he lifted a lazy brow. ‘You mean, you’d actually wondered?’ he asked and grinned. ‘Life just gets better.’

  ‘No,’ she protested too hastily. ‘No, of course not.’

  His smile widened. ‘Fibber.’ He rolled over, pulling her towards him and kissing her on the tip of her nose. ‘Whereas you, my virtuous angel, have clearly been wearing a bikini at some recent date—even if you wouldn’t do so this weekend. And it covered you from here…’ He trailed his lips across the swell of her breasts just above her nipples. ‘To there.’ His tongue traced her cleavage and beyond.

  ‘And from here,’ he added, skimming a finger from the curve of one hip to the other. ‘Down to—here.’ He paused, lingering, deliberately tantalising. ‘So—what colour was it?’

  She swallowed, her skin warming helplessly at his touch. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘So I can imagine taking it off,’ Jake whispered, and began to kiss her again.

  Afterwards he slept again, one arm thrown across her, but she could not. The room was golden with sunshine now, and she felt part of it, part of all that warmth and promise, her perceptions heightened—coloured by what had happened to her here. Her body felt entirely different too, her skin seeming to tingle—to glow.

  Nor was it because she was quite definitely aching a little. More than a little, if she was really honest.

  And, more prosaically, she was hungry.

  Careful not to disturb him, she slid from under his imprisoning arm and tiptoed across to her room, retrieving her dress and briefs en route and putting them away.

  Then, picking out a straight, white linen skirt, a silky black top and some underwear, she went into the bathroom. She filled the tub with warm water, adding fragrant bath-oil, and sank into it with a sigh of contentment.

  She thought, I’ve lost my virginity. And paused, because that was hardly an accurate description of what had transpired last night.

  ‘I didn’t lose a thing,’ she told herself defiantly. ‘I gave it away, freely, willingly and quite gloriously.’

  The kind of behaviour she’d always secretly condemned. And yet she didn’t regret a thing. How could she?

  In retrospect it had not been exactly what she’d anticipated, mainly because she’d not expected him to be quite so considerate—so gentle. From what she’d gleaned from the giggled conversations of female colleagues, it had seemed that men, carried away in the throes of passion, could behave very differently.

  And she wondered if, perhaps, Jake had made allowances for her ignorance of what really turned men on.

  She sat up abruptly. What the hell was she thinking? Was she deliberately trying to tarnish the sheer magic of what had happened between them?

  It was wonderful, she thought. And he made it wonderful. There was no more to it than that.

  Half an hour later, bathed and dressed, she went to his door and peeped in to see if he was awake, but he hadn’t stirred, so she made her way downstairs alone.

  She could hear the buzz of conversation from the dining room, and knew suddenly that food could wait. That she didn’t want to see anyone just yet.

  That she wanted to hug last night and its secrets to her a little longer.

  She went through the drawing room and out on to the terrace, standing by the balustrade and looking out over the gardens. The lawns looked particularly inviting, she thought, as if they were waiting for her to dance across them—or turn a cartwheel for sheer joy.

  Her face splintered into a grin. ‘As if,’ she told herself, and turned to go back in the house, nearly cannoning into Diana Halsay, who was standing right behind her.

  ‘Well, well,’ Diana said softly. ‘You look very pleased with yourself this morning. Has Jake taken pity on you at last?’ Her eyes swept Marin from head to foot in a piercing assessment. ‘Why, I do believe
that he has.’ She laughed. ‘Not just belle-laide any more, but well and truly laid, if I’m any judge.’

  Marin said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Only to be totally betrayed by the bright wave of colour that was sweeping from her toes up to the roots of her hair, making her burn with humiliation under the other’s all-knowing gaze.

  ‘I suppose it was inevitable,’ Diana went on, musing. ‘Even though it may not have been what he intended originally.

  ‘You see, I was never fooled by that “here’s my new girlfriend” routine. Graham may think it’s love, that Jake’s met his fate at last, but we three know that isn’t true—don’t we? That it’s all just a clever trick to get the sexy Mr Radley-Smith off the hook—the ultimate PR spin.’

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose you hinted to Jake that I didn’t believe it. Making him realise he might need to take—stronger measures to make his little deception really plausible.

  ‘And you weren’t exactly unwilling, were you, my dear? Or subtle about what you wanted. In fact, everyone noticed how you’ve been trailing after him all weekend with your tongue hanging out. As Sylvia said, like a starving kid outside a baker’s window. And Jake, like a perfect gentleman, has duly obliged, thus killing two birds with one stone. So in one way you owe me a vote of thanks, or he might never have bothered.’

  There was sudden nausea, hot and bitter, in Marin’s throat. She swallowed. ‘How—how dare you talk to me like this? I refuse to listen to any more.’

  ‘How very disappointing,’ Diana said brightly. ‘When at last we have something in common to discuss.’ She paused, a little smile curling her mouth. ‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ She lowered her voice intimately, sister to sister, talking about a pleasure shared. ‘Knows all the right buttons to press, as it were. I’m sure he rewarded you very generously for being such a good girl.’

  She gave a little gurgle of laughter. ‘However, I presume he wasn’t in one of his more adventurous moods, or you probably wouldn’t be able to walk this morning.’