Loving Lies. Tina Donahue
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Warmth pooled in his groin. His shaft hungered for her tight, wet heat. Forcing himself to be patient and gentle, he brought more water to her shoulders and arms. She whimpered and tried to pull away, covering her scraped elbows with her hands.
Again, he assured, “The pain will pass.” He cupped her right breast.
She went rigid, not even breathing any longer.
He made no sudden moves. “I gave you my word to wait for our coupling.” Before she could question or speak, he turned her face to his and slipped his tongue between her lips. She sighed hungrily. He growled at the stunning comfort of her mouth and the wonder of her nipple against his roughened palm. Her tip was erect, her breast so yielding he fondled her with an urgency he hadn’t experienced in years with the women he’d known.
As he deepened the kiss, she pushed her breast into his hand, unknowingly pressing her buttocks against his stiffened shaft. Currents of heat flowed through him, her closeness fueling his hunger. He ran his hand over her breasts, squeezing each precious globe before pulling his mouth free.
Breathing hard, she rested the back of her head against his shoulder.
Her growing trust thrilled him as few things had. With his attention on their surroundings, ever alert to danger, he slid his hand over the gentle swell of her belly, his fingers poised above her slit. She pushed into him. To get away from his touch? He stroked her delicate flesh, deliberately teasing it. “Allow me this.”
Her breath spilled out on a ragged sigh. Above them, birds flew past, chirping gaily. Wind hushed through the trees. Isabella soon seemed unaware of anything except his patient touch. She turned her head until her cheek rested against his shoulder and her newest sighs warmed his throat.
Smiling, he slipped his fingers over her mound and touched the soft folds between her legs. Her breath caught…the same as his. She was already wet for him. The world spun so quickly, he had to lock his knees to steady himself. Beneath his fingers, her sex grew plumper, slicker with her womanly moisture. He held back a bellow of delight and dipped his fingers to her sweet nub. She made a gentle, feminine sound, fueling his lust.
“Allow me this,” he said, even though she’d made no move to resist. She kept her legs open to his touch, every part of her surrendering to whatever he willed.
As he flicked his fingertips over her erect nub, she released a shuddering breath and melted into his touch, clearly wanting more. Determined to prolong her pleasure, to make her desire this over anything else, he eased his hand from her slit and rested his damp fingers on her belly. She shook her head. Objecting to the way he’d stopped? Surely. He ran his forefinger around her navel, circling the small depression.
“No.” She pulled in more air. “Touch me there again. Please.”
He feigned ignorance. “Where?”
Her breasts quivered with her harsh breaths. “My sex. Touch it.”
“In time.”
“Now.”
He suckled her throat, liking the eager and wanting sounds she made. He kissed her shoulder, ear, and temple before concentrating on her nub, stroking it unhurriedly. She gripped his forearm. Brushing his fingers more quickly against her sex, he drove her closer to the edge. Her breathing grew strained, muscles tight. As she neared the height of her pleasure, he eased back his hand.
She moaned. “No, no, no, no. Why did you stop? Touch me.”
He did, and a shameless cry burst from her. Before she could catch her breath, he rubbed faster, harder, so relentless in his intent, she reached release quickly and cried out once more. He held her tightly to him as she floated down from the peak of her desire, shivering against him.
She belonged to him now, and not only because of this act or their betrothal. She’d been born for him as much as he’d been born for her. It was a concept he’d never considered before. A dream he’d thought only a fool could believe.
He’d been blind for denying such a thing until now, because he was falling under the spell of a woman he barely knew and yet seemed to have known all of his days. From the moment he first saw her in the market, she’d captured his heart. She’d proved to be courageous and worthy of the greatest respect. A man didn’t need days, months, or years to know this kind of passion. It could happen in an instant. If one was fortunate, it lasted a lifetime.
He sighed contentedly as she turned into him, snuggling her breasts to his chest, resting her face against his neck. Her sweet breath did magical things, making his shaft even harder. After kissing her shoulder, he again regarded their surroundings. They were blessedly alone, as he’d predicted when choosing this spot.
He embraced her gently. “Have you nothing to say?”
“Gracias.”
Fernando laughed, realizing too late how he’d insulted her. He pulled her back within his embrace. “Forgive me. I was not making light of the moment. Your response delights me.”
“One you expected, no?”
Of course, though he never would have guessed how elated he’d be at pleasing her. The second son of a count had brought this first-born lady much joy. “Until this moment you were so difficult, I had no idea what might happen.”
“I was disagreeable, not difficult.” She pressed her mouth to his throat and suckled him tenderly.
His knees knocked against hers. His heart beat so hard he could barely speak. “Have it your way, though no more.”
She stopped sucking and glanced up. Her cautious expression said she recalled her promise of obedience to his will. “You want to pleasure me again?”
“I want you to see to my pleasure. To have your hands do to my shaft what your body should, caress and stroke its length. Bring me to completion.”
She eased back, her attention falling to his rigid rod. A deep pink tint flooded her chest, throat, and cheeks.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
Her gaze flicked to his before returning to his sex. “No.” With tender care, she took his thickened flesh in her hand.
A shock of delight tore through Fernando, forcing him to dig his toes into the cool mud in order to keep steady. His legs still wavered as she cupped his sac in her other hand. Her caress pulled a strained grunt from him.
Isabella quickly loosened her hold. “Did I hurt you?”
He was too aroused to speak. After shaking his head, he gestured for her to continue.
* * * *
She willed her heart to stop thudding against her throat.
It beat even harder as she regarded his heavy sex now in her care. Fernando’s skin was exquisitely soft and hot, his rigid length breathtaking, his smooth crown nearly purple with desire. Never had she felt or seen anything as wondrous. It blinded her to the lies she would continue to tell, the future they could never have. What mattered now were these few moments. The only they might share.
As he rested his forearms on her shoulders and delivered himself to her, she ran her fingertip over the small depression in the head of his shaft. A clear, silky fluid emerged. She’d heard other women speak of this…how it announced the beginning of a man’s pleasure. Mesmerized, she stroked the liquid over his reddened tip and worked her fingers past the crown to his shaft until she’d reached the thick hair on his groin.
He kept growling, the sounds strangled, nearly out of control. He’d lowered his head, his breathing difficult.
She made matters even harder on him, doing to Fernando what her male cousins had done to themselves when none of them had known she’d been spying. As Isabella worked one hand up and down his meaty length, she fondled his sac.
He bunched his shoulders, increasing the weight of his forearms on her.
She