Page 90 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

“Easy, my flower,” he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive swell of her breasts. “I want to savor you.”

Diana shuddered as his fingers traveled higher, just barely brushing where she ached for him the most. A helpless sound escaped her lips, half plea, half surrender. He groaned in response, his warm breath fanning her skin.

“So soft,” he whispered. “So ready for me.”

“Ah!”

All coherent thoughts flew out of her mind when he touched hertherein a deliberate, lazy way meant to unravel her. He pulled back and looked down at her, but she could barely focus as he kept touching her, circling and stroking. She was like the string of a bow, ready to snap, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“James, just… more!”

He bit an erect nipple, and she almost screamed. Her nails dug into his shoulders, sure that she would soar high if she didn’t ground herself somehow.

“Look at me, Diana,” he commanded softly. “I want to see you unravel.”

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with pleasure. She barely had a moment to breathe before he pressed deeper.

Their gazes locked as his fingers explored her, pushed more, and he looked on the verge of something dangerous.

“James!”

“You are amazing,” he purred.

Her thighs clenched around his hand, a sob tearing from her throat. A tingling feeling swelled inside her like a wave. Then, it stopped.

“No!” she wailed.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Diana,” he muttered, his voice rough.

His hands made quick work of his breeches, baring him but not completely—he was too impatient to do this properly. He moved closer, his hardness at her entrance.

His breathing was labored, his body taut with restraint. He hovered over her, his eyes taking in every inch of her bare skin, his hands trembling as they hovered just above her.

“Diana, if you tell me to stop, I will stop,” he grunted.

“Don’t. I want this.” She moved a fraction, just to feel him.

He swallowed hard, his gaze softening, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“This might hurt a bit, my flower,” he cooed. “I will be gentle, I promise. Just trust me.”

“I do. I trust you.”

And with that, he positioned himself carefully, the tip of his length prodding her entrance. Diana’s breath hitched, and she instinctively tensed up for a moment, but his hands immediately moved to soothe her, caressing her in a way that made her melt.

“Relax, my love. Just breathe for me,” he said tenderly, peppering kisses on the corner of her mouth.

Diana exhaled deeply, and that was when he pushed forward cautiously. She felt a pang of discomfort, but he was there, his lips over hers and his eyes locked onto hers. Her need overwhelmed her fear once more, her love for him dominating everything. The sensation was unfamiliar but also incredible, carrying the whisper of a promise. The promise of utter bliss.

“James, please,” she whispered.

“Remember, my flower,” he moaned in her ear. “I am the one doing the begging here.”

She felt all of what they had been, all of what they were, all of what they would be. She let go of her hesitation, surrendering to him completely, trusting him with her body, her heart. And with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered her fully.

“Ah!” She bit her lip.

It was not pain, not exactly. Not as she had expected. She felt him stretch her in a way that bordered on pleasurable.

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