Dare to Love (14 page)

So she kept up the conversation, sharing stories and even making him laugh on occasion.

Her heart felt as though it would burst the first time he laughed, tossing back his head and letting out a deep chuckle. With his soft hair waving around his face, the harsh planes of his face relaxed, she caught a glimpse of him she rarely saw. The sneer, the arrogance, the bored expression was completely absent.

If he looked handsome in the ballroom, it was nothing compared to this relaxed, heart-stoppingly beautiful man in front of her.

Nivea wracked her brain for interesting stories. She was in the middle of one when she felt his hand glide up to her knee. She smothered a gasp. Fortunately, she did not yank her leg away in surprise, because the sensation was too delicious. Trying to remain calm, she continued her story.

A moment later, he leaned forward in his chair and his hands drifted up, up, up toward her thigh. This time she did gasp. This was beyond inappropriate. She should put a stop to it right now.

Rubbing her sore feet was one thing, but this was…yes, it was definitely a caress. And they were alone…in a cabin…and she was on a bed. And he was rubbing her…Ohhh! Now, that was a sensitive spot at the back of her leg.

“Did that tickle? I’m sorry. Is this better?” Instead of removing his hands, he simply increased the pressure.

Watching him from beneath her lashes, she expected to see the seductive smirk she’d witnessed a hundred times as he lured in his willing prey. But no. Instead, his face appeared…peaceful. There was no other word for it. His eyes were calm and unfocused, his full lips curled into a tender smile. Dust motes were floating through the patches of sunlight like fairy dust, and he sat there like a handsome prince, caught in a spell.

Her breath caught and she stopped talking all together.

She watched him as he focused his attention on her legs, rubbing her newly formed muscles. They had been sore from her horseback riding, and the massage was soothing. She had hoped to stutter out a few more words of her story, but realized coherent thought was beyond her.

Dare did not notice her distress, and in a soft, beguiling voice began recounting a story about William when they were boys. She remembered William writing her about it at the time and she enjoyed hearing it from Dare’s perspective. Not that she was really able to listen. Her brain had turned to mush.

Still, his hands continued their ascent. They pushed up her gown to mid thigh and were touching her soft inner legs. A strange pulsing began, and she closed her eyes, giving in to the pleasure. There was no sound now, except the rustling of the leaves outside.

Merciful heavens, this felt good. Sinful and decadent, but delightful beyond words.

She bit back a whimper when he removed his hands from her thigh, but then he picked up her hand and continued his massage. He rubbed each finger…the palm…her wrist and a slow path up her forearm. Her skin was tingling and her breathing ragged. She was certain he could hear her heartbeat, it was hammering so hard.

But no, he still sat there, lost in a peaceful daze, seemingly unaware of what he was doing. He reached for her other hand and repeated the pattern—fingers, palm, wrist, and forearm, and then continued up to her shoulder, rubbing her skin in slow sensual circles.

Never looking at her face, never saying a word. It was as though he were in a trance.

He reached as high as he could on her arm before the sleeves of her dress impeded his path. Undeterred, he trailed a finger over to her neckline. He drew a delicate swirl over her collarbone and down to her bodice.

This was completely improper. Yes, she’d loved him forever and wanted him to notice her, but she never expected he would touch her like this. Nor did she imagine just how glorious it would feel. Oh yes, this was wholly inappropriate, but she refused to interrupt this magical moment.

He remained in an almost dreamlike state, trailing his finger back and forth on her exposed skin, his full lips curved in the slightest of smiles. She’d seen him in countless situations over the years and never witnessed this expression before. She closed her eyes, vowing to let him continue as long as he liked. After all, he was William’s best friend…a gentleman. And she was Nivea…a respectable over-the-hill spinster who did not inspire lust or attraction in any man. She could not be in any real danger, could she?

Then he murmured, almost to himself, “You are so soft. I did not think you would be so soft. Not that I thought about it much at all, but it is truly remarkable…softer than any other woman I know.”

He ran his fingers down to the top button on her pale pink bodice.

And popped it open.

She stopped breathing. No, she must have imagined it.

Then another button popped open.

Her eyes flew wide. No. This was not possible.

He was not… Oops, there went another one.

While her brain struggled to respond, her body rebelled. Her hand did not fly up and grab his. Her mouth did not form the words, “no” or “stop.” All she was able to do was lay there, eyes wide open, watching him begin to push the fabric aside, exposing her thin white chemise. And slowly, carefully, oh so delicately, he lowered his hand to her breast.

That got her breathing started with a sharp gasp. He looked up at the sound, his eyes black and unfocused. He smiled at her, bemused.

“You are so lush and pale. It’s quite intoxicating.” And he returned his attention to her breast.

Her skin was on fire, tingling from this new sensation. She watched in fascination as he leaned closer, closer, closer to her, dipping his head until his lips touched her breast. She jerked in surprise.

“Shh,” he whispered, sliding next to her and resting his hands on her shoulders. “Shh, I won’t hurt you.”

All rational thought flew from her brain as he lowered his head and kissed her hardened tip. First one side, then the other. His hands kneaded her breasts as he nuzzled the skin through the fabric.

“I just want to taste it. I’ll bet you taste like fresh cream. I have to know,” he said, his voice tight and strained. His fingers untied the ribbon of her chemise and pulled it apart. Her white flesh was now exposed, topped with two hard red buds. He sighed and lowered his head again.

The feeling was exquisite. Her heart was beating so fast and strong, she was afraid it would come out of her chest. Her breathing was labored, and now she could hear his breath, too, coming more rapidly. His hands started to explore her body, roving up and down her waist, arms, and hips. She squirmed, wanting more, but unsure what
more
meant.

But he knew. He knew exactly what she wanted. He pulled her dress up higher on her legs and palmed her thighs with a groan.

“I never expected you to feel so good…to taste so delicious,” he whispered.

Unable to resist, Nivea raised her hands and ran her fingers through his hair. It was as soft and silky as she’d imagined. She pressed his head to her, refusing to let him go.

He moaned again and nudged her over, stretching out next to her on the bed. His warm, masculine scent enveloped her. He was so hot, it seemed to scorch her skin.

As his hands continued to roam, he began to thrust against her. She could feel a large ridge pressing against her hip. Having been raised with horses, she was well aware what that appendage meant. She froze.

Oh, God.
This had gone too far. He was actually in need of her. That could not be. She had to put a stop to this. Her hands stilled and she was going to push him away when he slid his fingers up under her dress and touched her,
there
.

Her hips twitched, and he gave a low chuckle. “Shh,” he repeated. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. I’ll just—” He again moved his finger over the center of her being.

The feeling was exquisite. She could not have him stop no matter what happened. He rubbed again. Harder.

Then he drew little circles around the area, his thumb caressing her. She could feel a strange, wet warmth growing as he increased the pressure. She was panting now.

Then he slid a finger inside her and she moaned.

“Yes, that’s it. Don’t be shy. Let me know that you like this.”

He lowered his head to her breast again and licked her nipple as his hand increased the pressure between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his head and pressed it to her, knowing that whatever he was doing, she never wanted him to stop.

Ever.

She was pulsing, convulsing, trembling with need. And then a firestorm flashed through her and she screamed. Not a squeak of surprise, but a full, enthusiastic scream. She clutched him to her like a drowning woman. The feeling was overwhelming and awe inspiring. Only when the shudders of excitement had stopped did she loosen her grip.

Once she did, Dare slid up her body and kissed her. His full, warm, soft lips pressed against hers and her heart nearly exploded with joy. He kept his hand between her thighs and continued the delicious tickling sensation, while kissing her lips, her cheeks. He moved to her earlobe and nipped it gently.

“I am so stiff, I cannot stop. I must—I—.” He kissed her hard and sat up. When he removed his hands, she gave a little sob of protest. He smiled and bent down to kiss her again.

Then he yanked off one boot, and it fell to the floor.

Then the other.

She watched with equal parts horror and fascination as he drew off his breeches. This could not be happening. She could not let him do this! But before she could utter a sound, he lay down beside her and replaced his hand on her curls. He brought his head to her chest and licked her nipple until she could not breathe. She felt his weight shift and then he was lying over her, nudging her legs apart.

“I’m sorry. I must. I shouldn’t, and I may never forgive myself for this, but I must. Please forgive me,” he gasped.

He rubbed his hand faster and faster over her mound before lowering himself down. She felt something hard, pressing against her sensitive skin, pushing forward, inward, an uncomfortable stretching and then a moment of harsh pain. She stiffened as reality permeated her brain.

He had done it. Dare had taken her maidenhead.

How could she have let this happen?

She lay there in horror, unsure what to do. Then he shifted his weight and his hand returned, rubbing and teasing her.

The haze of desire returned and she gasped for air. She could almost inhale his warmth, his beauty, his masculine power, and she sighed with delight.

“That’s it. Concentrate on the pleasure. It won’t hurt again.” He nuzzled into her ear.

He began sliding in and out, in and out, causing her discomfort at first, but it quickly dissipated. Then he increased the pace, rubbing his finger faster in time with the stroking, in and out. In and out. Harder and more urgent with each thrust. As the pleasure built, she thrust back, increasing the pressure, the friction, the incredible building sensation.

“Yes. That’s right. Oh, yes,” he groaned and lowered his lips to hers. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and he swirled it around hers. She was surrounded by him, inside and out. He tasted wonderful. She was so overwhelmed by the sensations, she couldn’t breathe. He kissed a path across her cheek, down her neck, and paused for the briefest of moments at her breast. Then with a deep, thrilling groan, he flicked his tongue over her swollen, aching nipple, and she exploded once again. Barely aware of what was happening, he drove into her with fierce precision before emitting a loud shout. He pulled out of her sending a warm burst of wetness against her leg.

They lay there for a moment, without saying a word. Until Dare rolled away from her and groaned. “Oh, my God. What have I done?”

Embarrassment flashed through her like fire. There was no moment of tenderness. No words of endearment. Just heartbreak.

Now that it was over, he was consumed with remorse. Of course. How could he have sunk so low as to sleep with her? She was a cow—a dowdy toad. He didn’t even think her suitable to be a vicar’s wife. What had she been thinking?

Dare moaned again and sat up. Reaching around, he grabbed the counterpane on the floor and dropped it on her, refusing to meet her eyes. “Here, you can clean yourself up with this.” He dropped his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he yanked on his breeches and drew on his boots.

“That was inexcusable. I—I’m so embarrassed. I…have no words,” he said, his voice strained.

Nivea swallowed hard in agony. Only seconds ago, her life was like a slice of heaven. Now, she was in hell, never to recover. He was embarrassed to have touched her. She would never be able to face him again. As though
he
would ever want to face
her
.

She pulled down her dress and pushed him away so she could rise. Her legs were as shaky as a newborn colt’s. He took her elbow to steady her and she snatched it away.

“I must go,” she choked out, hoping to make it to the door before the tears of humiliation started.

As she ran out the door, she heard him moan once again, “Oh, God, what have I done?” before laughing darkly.

A few guests waved hello to him as Dare entered the hall, but his blackened expression drove away any attempt at conversation. He headed straight to his room and collapsed on his bed, unmoving.

His boots were still on. He leaned over once, then a second time, intending to remove them. They were dirty and scuffed and would not do at all.

But then he would picture his boots on the floor of the cottage, right before he had stretched out on the bed. He remembered the soft, seductive sounds Nivea made as he touched her. Imagined the warm, delicate skin under his fingers, running over her legs, her breast, and face. He had been with more women than he could remember, and no one had felt like her. Or made him feel like he had with her. She was so soft and womanly, and he had lost all control.

But why? Why Nivea? What had possessed him?

She made him warm.
Inside
. Sitting with her on the boat had brought him the most unusual sense of serenity. And when they were together in the cabin, talking, and she relaxed under his touch, he couldn’t help reaching higher and higher. He hadn’t even noticed that he was crossing a line until he was so mesmerized by her, he hadn’t been able to stop.