“More. I think I need you deep inside.”
The blasphemy turned into a growl and he drove up into her. The sheer determination of attempting to not wreck her body sent the cords of muscles along his neck straining. He eased out and in again. “I don’t know how long I can take this care.”
“Then don’t.” She grabbed the back of his head, pulling his face to hers. “It doesn’t hurt, not now.” Her lips met his in a brutal kiss that told him just how much she needed him to be driving into her.
He withdrew, thrusting into her again and again until he swelled deep within her. A guttural roar shook his chest as he pulled from her lips and buried his head along her neck. The pulsating shudders of his body blanketed her as he reached the same pinnacle she was immersed in.
There was no going back.
Not for either of them.
{ Chapter 12 }
It was the exact proof he needed. Even as he lifted Sloane’s skirts, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. A masterful courtesan. Possibly a lady who had tumbled in the hay a number of times but not experienced. A woman somewhere along the gamut between the two.
A virgin was not one of them.
But to him, it was proof. Proof that she wasn’t another actress sent by Falsted. She wasn’t a whore sent to ruin him with some elaborate ruse.
Sloane wanted revenge, yes—was dead set on it. That single-mindedness had set her up to be used by Falsted. And now she was an innocent being tossed about as a pawn.
Which was worse.
Much worse.
For now he was going to have to make Falsted pay for his part in using Sloane.
Still embedded deep in her, he opened his eyes. A sheen glistened across her brow and her breath came in short pants that didn’t fully reach into her lungs.
Her body wedged tight between him and the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist, he lifted his left hand from her backside to clasp her head, his fingers threading into her hair. He swallowed hard against his own labored breathing. “Damn, Sloane, you should have told me you were a virgin.”
She laughed, expelling what little air she had managed into her chest. She had to gasp a breath before she could talk. “You assumed I was a loose woman?”
“I didn’t know what you were—for how you came to Wolfbridge was so suspect. And then it is how your body reacts to mine—just like it did in the library at Wolfbridge. The way you twist under my hands. It is…practiced.”
Her eyes snapped open to him, a flush filling her cheeks. “It is wrong—what I do? I didn’t—”
His mouth covered hers, cutting off her words. He kissed her, long and lazy, his tongue exploring the taste of her just for the sake of discovery.
He broke away, his forehead tilting forward to touch hers. “What you do is exactly right. Everything. From that little scream that gets caught in your throat when my lips are on your nipples, to the way you gasp and tighten around me when you come. Right. Perfect. All of it.”
Relief filled her blue eyes, the dash of amber in her left iris sparking to life. “Good. I cannot control it. Not with you. I’ve never had that problem with other suitors—controlling myself—but with you, Reiner…”
“With me, what?”
She sighed. “With you my body does things my mind would normally refuse.”
“We’ll marry as soon as we can—we’re in Scotland so it will only require a willing man to do so.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Married? I—no.”
“No?” He shook his head, not quite believing he had just heard the word. “What did you think this was, Sloane? I said there would be no going back.”
“You didn’t say anything about marriage.” Her eyes closed for a long moment. When her lashes fluttered open, her look went upward toward the ceiling. “I assumed…ever since the fire…”
“What did you assume?”
Her blue eyes dropped to meet his gaze. “I assumed I would never marry.”