Captive Of Sin Part 28

But her fingers dug into his damp s.h.i.+rt, clenching and unclenching in time with the rhythm of his mouth on her breast.

He ripped his trousers open. The pounding in his head was so loud, he hardly heard the material shredding.

With ruthless hands, he angled her hips up and plunged into her.

Heat.

Pressure.

One fragile, glowing moment that might have been peace.

Stray details overwhelmed starved senses. Her scent. The soft rattle of her breathing. The way she quivered under him.

He rose to look at her. Her eyes were closed, and her face was stark with tension. d.a.m.n it, he must be hurting her. Principle insisted he stop, withdraw, leave her be.

He began to pull out. Meaning to end this travesty. But the sensation of his tumescent flesh sliding free of her sleek pa.s.sage nearly blew the top of his head off. Pleasure so intense it edged on pain incinerated him in a white-hot blast.

His scruples dissolved to ash. His heart tolled a despairing note as he thrust back inside her. Hard. Demanding. Pitiless.

She closed around him with what felt like welcome. This time he paused, luxuriating in the tightness. He s.h.i.+fted. Edged deeper.

Charis moaned, a low, guttural sound that resonated in his gut. The hands on his shoulders slid down to curl around his straining back. She tilted her hips higher.

Her eyes opened. The pupils were dilated, and the irises were rich gold. The skin on her face stretched tight. She tipped her head back, her thick lashes fluttered down, and she arched with a long, low, keening sound.

What frail restraints he'd imposed snapped. There was just the hot clasp of her body and his thundering need.

He changed the angle of penetration. Her body moved with him. He withdrew and thrust again. He needed the rhythm more than he needed breath.

Faster.

Harder.

The endless rocking of his hips against hers. The slide of his flesh into her slender body. The creak of the bed. The rustle of the sheets. The catch of her breath.

His body tensed. The pace became wilder.

His release built, knotting his spine, twisting his gut, tightening his b.a.l.l.s to agony.

He lifted his head, and his throat clenched on a shout. Anguish. Shame. Possession.

Freedom.

One last thrust. His world ignited into fire.

He flooded her with his agony and his loss and his anger. His hips jerked as the crisis flung him into eternity.

For a long time, Gideon's mind closed down to anything but the volcanic release.

He slumped over her, gasping for breath. There was only his quivering body, the gallop of his heart, the warm embrace of darkness.

He was utterly exhausted. Weary to the point of torpor.

Vaguely, he heard her make a sound of discomfort.

He tried to shut it from his mind. He belonged in this darkness. He wanted to stay here.

He'd acted like a beast.

The unwelcome knowledge nibbled at the blanketing stillness.

Oh, merciful G.o.d, what have I done?

With a groan of utter desolation, he pulled free and rolled onto his back. If he could trust his legs to carry him, he'd walk out.

He stared at the ceiling, waiting for his breath to steady and his heartbeat to resume its usual rate. Waiting for the world to crash in on him.

In spite of his howling conscience, his physical self relished what he'd done. The sheer power of the experience eclipsed every previous s.e.xual encounter the way the sun outshone a candle.

He stirred, turned his head to look at Charis. The movement cost the last of his depleted strength. She'd drained him to the lees.

"Are you all right?" he asked gruffly.

She was in profile. She licked her lips. The innocent movement sent a smoldering bolt to his loins. Suddenly, he wasn't quite as exhausted as he had been.

She made no attempt to cover her nakedness. Knowing she lay bare beside him piqued his desire. He, on the other hand, hadn't had the finesse to do more than tear his trousers open and have at her.

"Perfectly, thank you."

Gideon frowned. Her polite, detached tone worried him.

Perhaps he really had hurt her. He leaned up on one elbow to see into her face. "I fell on you like a hungry dog on a bone."

She stared upward. He wondered what her determinedly neutral expression concealed. Devastation? Fury? Pain? Oh, h.e.l.l, don't let him have done her injury. He'd been pa.s.sionately unrestrained, and until two nights ago, she'd been a virgin.

She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. "You're not shaking. You're not sick. You're not sweating."

He frowned. "I'm worried about you. Forget about me."

"You forgot about you."

She sat up, drawing her knees up. The girlish grace of the movement captured his attention, stirred his interest. Then he realized what she'd said.

"Was that an experiment?" Resentment stirred under his concern. "You've got a b.l.o.o.d.y cheek."

She bent so her thick hair fell forward, hiding her expression. "I couldn't see how else to test if what I guessed was true."

He scowled at her. "And got a right royal f.u.c.king in return."

She jerked her head up and stared at him. He sucked in a shuddering breath, ignoring the shock on her face. His tone bit. "I hope you're pleased with yourself, madam."

With a movement that shot another jolt of arousal through him, she shook back her untidy tumble of hair. A smile curved her lush pink lips. Lips which to his shame he hadn't kissed, even as he'd slammed into her like a hammer.

"Of course I'm pleased with myself. I drove my husband wild with desire."

He jackknifed onto his knees. If the habit of keeping his hands to himself weren't so ingrained, he'd shake her until her teeth rattled. "What the devil..."

Her smile faded. "Gideon, you touched me."

"Blast you, Charis, I did more than touch you. You deserve better."

She grabbed his arm. "I don't care what I deserve. I want you. However I can get you." The smile reappeared. "And it was exciting."

"Exciting?" He had trouble speaking. He felt like he'd entered a new universe, where nothing from the old one made sense.

"Of course it was exciting," she said urgently. "You looked as if you'd die unless you touched me. You'll do better next time."

"Are you sure there will be a next time?"

"I've discovered your weakness." Satisfaction warmed her voice. "When I'm naked, you're powerless."

The problem was the witch was right. Even now his c.o.c.k stirred with interest.

She still regarded him with that faint enigmatic smile. "To think I ever doubted you wanted me."

Foolish woman. He gave an unamused laugh. "I always want you. d.a.m.n it, Charis, I'm in love with you."

Seventeen.

Aghast, Gideon stiffened. b.l.o.o.d.y, b.l.o.o.d.y, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. Why in the name of all that was holy did I say that? He'd give his left arm to take back the words. But it was too late.

Violently, he tugged away from Charis and surged to his feet. He stalked across to scoop the discarded nightdress from the floor. With an angry gesture, he tossed it across the end of the bed.

He should have kept his blasted mouth shut. But the wild, uncontrolled s.e.x had broken some barrier within him. The declaration he'd fought back for so long had surged up unstoppable as a king tide.

She started as if emerging from a daze. "You love me," she whispered.

She stared at him with huge, s.h.i.+ning eyes. Her lips parted. She looked so happy, he couldn't bear it. Clearly the damage was done, and there was no point in telling her he'd lied. Although it would be better for both of them if she believed he had.

The harsh facts that put a life with her completely out of reach hadn't changed, for all that every cell of his body ached with love for her. One bout of desperate pa.s.sion didn't change the cruel reality of his existence. He wasn't a normal man. He'd never be a normal man. And if she pledged herself to him now, one day she'd regret that commitment.

He couldn't bear to contemplate her love turning to hatred and disgust when she realized just what she'd sacrificed by walling herself away with her half-insane wreck of a husband. Her best chance of happiness was to establish a future far away from Gideon and his demons. But he could see what he'd just said made it less likely than ever that he'd convince her of that incontrovertible truth anytime soon.

Again, he cursed the impetuous declaration that forever changed the landscape between him and his beautiful, misguided wife.

"It doesn't matter," he said with a carelessness that even in his own ears sounded false.

A tiny frown line appeared between her brows. "Oh, Gideon." She spoke his name with such deep compa.s.sion, he tensed with fuming resentment. He couldn't endure her pity.

So he didn't have to look at her, glowing, irresistible, he struggled to concentrate on doing up his trousers. His gloved hands shook so much that he fumbled hopelessly with the fastenings. It was like being in the grip of his affliction, except he trembled now not because he'd touched her but because he so badly wanted to.

During those dazzling moments in her arms, his world had come right. He could offer her a lifetime of misery while she was his only hope of happiness. That was his eternal burden. He couldn't make her share it.

"I'll ring for hot water," he said with a studied neutrality that cost him more than he wanted to admit. At last he managed to close his trousers. "You'll want to wash."

"That's it?" He still wasn't looking at her, but he heard the irritation in her voice. "You take me to bed. You tell me you love me. Then we just have breakfast as though nothing's happened?"

He glanced up and tried not to notice how very...naked she was. "Charis, I wish you'd put on your nightdress."

Her lips firmed with impatience. "That doesn't answer my question."

He sighed and ran his gloved hand through his hair. "Nothing should have happened."

"Why?"

"Will you put on the confounded nightdress?" he demanded in desperation.

She stretched out one slender arm, hooked up the silk garment, and slid it over her tousled head. "There. Is that better?"

"Not really." He breathed hard through his nostrils and fisted his hands at his sides. He burned to take her again. Her defiance only fed his incessant craving. He was an insatiable satyr. If the girl had any sense, she'd run a thousand miles to get away from him.

"I don't see why this is a problem," she said stubbornly. "You love me. I love you."

"You don't love me," he bit out.

She rolled her eyes. The sudden reversion to sulky schoolgirl would have summoned a smile if he didn't feel like she flayed his soul.

"No, of course I don't," she said sarcastically. "I'm a stupid sparrow of a female with hardly brains to feed myself. And you're so terrifically unworthy. The contemptible fellow dragged weeping out of a pit in India when any other man would have taken the trifles you'd endured in his stride."

"Charis..." he said in a dangerously low voice. Her mockery cut him to the bone. Especially as it held an unfortunate echo of his genuine concerns. "You go too far."

"Well, it's all so absurd, Gideon." She spread her hands in a frustrated gesture, the movement making her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggle enticingly under the sheer silk. His mouth dried, and his hands flexed as if they cupped those firm mounds.

"We love each other." Her cheeks flooded with pink. "Why are you standing half a room away?"

A glance under her eyelashes sent blood sizzling through his veins. d.a.m.n her, she could give Circe lessons. He braced his shoulders as if only physical restraint stopped him diving on her.

"Because I can't touch you without losing my mind," he snarled, need thundering through his body.

She slid her legs over the bed and stood straight before him. "I touched you before, and you didn't notice."