Page 46 of Because You're Mine
“Yes, that’s right,” she heard him murmur, and he bent to brush his mouth over hers. “Let me touch you…love you…” He explored her with extreme gentleness while she moaned and arched upward, her body consumed with pleasure. Using his fingertip, he gave her the first hint of the invasion to come, pushing until his finger was buried in the moistness.
“Is this what you want?” he asked softly, repeating the question as he stroked inside her. With a stifled cry, she pulled away before the sensations became too intense. She rolled to her side and heard him undressing, the rustle of fine cloth, the raspiness of his breathing.
When Logan was naked, he pulled her to face him. “Touch me,” he said, kissing her, his hands tangling in her long hair. Madeline hesitated; his body had changed with arousal, far different than when she had seen him during his illness. Her hand shook with excitement as she reached down to him, grasping timidly, her fingers filled with silk and steel and scorching heat. Logan made a soft masculine sound and his hand closed over hers, guiding, pressing, showing her what pleased him.
He kissed her with delicious roughness, his tongue twisting and diving into her mouth. Madeline searched his body with her hands. She was hungry for the texture of his skin, so taut and smooth, his legs rough with wiry hair, his back rippled with hard muscle. She crushed and rubbed her face against his throat, inhaling his scent—crisp and masculine, almost like cinnamon. “Do you love me?” she heard him ask, and her voice broke as she replied.
“Always.”
He pushed her thighs apart and settled between them, and she felt the hard, heavy pressure of him at the entrance of her body. Cradling her in his arms, he thrust forward, and the discomfort turned into searing pain. Madeline writhed in protest at the invasion, her body stretched and burning.
Loan muttered against her ear. “God, Maddy, hold still—”
“It hurts,” she gasped.
“I’ll make it better,” he said thickly. “Hold onto me.” His mouth traveled to her breasts, lips covering the taut peaks, sucking and stroking. Her desire began once more, flickering and blazing into life. She clasped his head to hold him closer, the soreness almost forgotten as he began a gentle rhythm inside her, barely moving at first, then increasing the depth of his thrusts. She clung to him, beginning to welcome the slow, repeated penetration. Each movement was luxurious, deliberate, exquisitely controlled.
“Maddy,” he said, his breath scraping in his throat, “you’re so tight, so sweet—I’ve never felt—” He broke off, his brow creased as if in pain, his features veiled in sweat.
Locked in the twisting tangle of their bodies, she was overwhelmed with the need to lift her hips, to pull him tightly inside her. Seeming to understand, Logan pushed her legs up and whispered for her to wrap them around his waist. As he continued the slow driving rhythm, Madeline’s mind went dark, and she was suddenly suspended in the white-hot center of intense pleasure. Waves of sensation rolled through her, leaving her limp and stunned in their aftermath.
A violent tremor shook Logan, and he held himself within her, releasing a groan from between his clenched teeth. For a moment his embrace was unbearably tight, and then he relaxed, his passion spent. Breathing hard, he held Madeline’s slim body in the circle of his arms and rolled to the side to keep from crushing her.
The storm passed and quietness descended, broken only by the crackle of the small fire. They remained locked together, while Logan stroked Madeline’s hair and touched his lips to her damp forehead. He had never felt so contented. For years he had guarded his heart so carefully—perhaps he was a fool for giving it to her so easily. He didn’t care. Madeline was different from all the others…she was innocent, loving, honest. Feeling drunk with love, he lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes glittered with tears, as if from some secret grief.
“Regrets?” Logan asked quietly, guessing that many women experienced sadness when they passed from innocence to experience. He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, wanting to give her the reassurance she needed.
“No.”
“Sweet love…I’m going to make you happy. I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need—”
“There’s only one thing I want,” Madeline choked, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Tell me,” he insisted, but nothing would make her answer. Finally he lifted her naked body in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, settling her on the cold linen sheets. She shivered and bit her lip as he pressed a damp cloth between her thighs. Realizing that she was sore, he experienced a mixture of regret and elation. She had been a virgin—and she would never know another man’s touch but his.
“Would you like a bath?” he asked, gathering her in his arms once more. “A glass of wine?”
“My nightgown…”
“Not tonight.” He rested his forehead on hers. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”
Madeline hesitated and then nodded, her head settling against his shoulder as they lay back together. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said, her hand resting on his stomach. “I planned to leave tomorrow without ever—” She stopped, her fingers curling into a small, hard fist.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “Sleep now.” He cuddled her and murmured softly until her breathing turned slow and regular, and her body became limp against his.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Madeline awakened in a fog of guilt and misery, wondering how she could have been so careless…so weak. She began to move away from the long body next to hers, and Logan murmured quietly, his hand curving over her hip. She could barely see him in the darkness, only the outline of his head and shoulders as he rose above her. Gently he touched her breast, and her traitorous body responded at once, the nipple contracting in anticipation. She felt the caress of his breath against her skin and his lips closing over the aching peak…the swirling pass of his tongue.
“You’re everything a man could want,” Logan murmured. His hand slid between her thighs. “And you’re mine.”
Madeline moaned softly as she felt his mouth moving to her other breast.
“I need you, Maddy.” He pressed her thighs open. “I would do anything for you.”
She tried to beg him not to say such things, but as he made love to her, all thought vanished. There was only Logan…his body possessing hers, his soft groan as he pushed himself within her. “I love you,” she whispered against his cheek, her arms wrapped around him. Desperately she wished that the moment would never end, and that morning would never come.
Eight
Logan blinkedas a shaft of sunlight moved across his eyes, rousing him from the depths of sleep. Stirring and stretching, he found himself alone in his bed. The relaxed smile left his face as he wondered for an instant if he had dreamed the previous night. No, there were faint rust-colored smudges on the sheet…traces of Madeline’s blood. A wave of tenderness went through him, and he was suddenly eager to hold her, tell her what pleasure she had given him, how much he loved her.
