renewed sting as she moved. He grabbed her when she wavered
and lifted her into his arms. Holding her carefully against his chest, he moved
across the room to the immense bed, pushed the curtains aside, and sat on the
side of it, still cradling her. With his legs spread wide, her derriere slid
down between them so that no pressure was put on it.
Strong arms held her firmly against his chest. For a moment
she just rested there, listening to the strong, reassuring thud of his heart
below her right ear. When he pressed a thumb under her chin to tilt her head
back, she yielded and met the bright gaze of his gray eyes.
His finger moved up her face to flick away the tears still streaking
her cheeks. His mouth twisted into pain and he leaned forward to rest his
forehead against her temple.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry for what? That you punished me? Why be sorry when you
and I both know it was right and due?”
“Sorry you had to suffer so. Sorry mine was the hand that
made you scream.”
“I’m not,” she said.
Astonishment spread over the face he lifted so that he could
meet her eyes.
“I’m pleased you have such a strong sense of honor you
wouldn’t let me get away with lying to you,” she said. “I rejoice that if I had
to be punished for it, the hand doing it was yours.”
“You wanted to be punished?” he asked.
“Nay, my lord. And most certainly I didn’t enjoy it. But it
was right and I needed it.”
His face plunged toward her again and his lips clamped on
her mouth. She opened to him and his tongue roved the insides of her cheeks and
gums. No longer constrained, she wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed
closer to him. The feel of his solid muscle and the manly scent of his skin
made her nearly dizzy. The kiss went on and on until her loins and her bottom
both throbbed in unison with her pounding pulse. Something hard and probing
poked at her hip and she moved against it.
Pleasure surged through her when he groaned and rubbed a big
hand up and down her back. Tearing his mouth from hers, he kissed his way to
her ear and then down along the side of her neck, sucking and nipping at the
tender flesh as he went. She moaned in turn. One of his arms still circled her
back and supported her. The other hand moved around to the front of her shift
and found the neat handful of a breast. He cupped it in his palm while his
fingers sought the tip. The soft flesh hardened in welcome of the touch.
Her head fell back a little when new waves of pleasure radiated
from her nipple as he caressed it and pinched it lightly. He moved to the other
breast and played with it, too. She squealed in surprise and delight when his
lips replaced his fingers on her nipple and he tongued it through the cloth of
her shift, sucking and nipping lightly.
“Oh, my lord, my lord,” she moaned as a pleasure just as
intense as the pain she’d suffered only minutes before flooded her being to the
point where she doubted her body could contain it.
With his mouth still clinging to her breast, he reached down
and grabbed the bottom edge of the shift. He released her nipple long enough to
tug the garment up and over her head, leaving her completely naked to his gaze.
It should have embarrassed her, but instead she just felt a warm excitement about
it.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as his gaze roved over her revealed
charms. “You’re so beautiful.”
He dipped his head to take another mouthful of breast and
taste the naked bud. The shards of pleasure that exploded from it ripped
through her gut and her loins, making her moan loudly again. She’d never felt
anything so exciting and rapturous in her life. She’d never dreamed such
pleasure could exist.
His free hand began an exploration of the rest of her body,
traveling down her side, stroking her belly, moving lower, then bypassing the
triangle below to brush her hip and thigh. Warm, exciting tingles followed upon
his touch. When his fingers moved toward the flesh of
Peter Matthiessen, 1937- Hugo van Lawick