Savannah Heat (23 page)

Morgan slid up her chemise and fastened his mouth on her breast. At first he suckled gently; then he nipped and tugged, licked, and circled the peak until Silver could barely breathe. Fire seemed to race through her body. Her fingers dug into his hair; she raked his back with her nails and arched against him.

“Morgan,” she whispered, the place between her legs beginning to burn.

With hands a little less steady, Morgan pulled the chemise off over her head, worked the tie that held up her drawers, then slid them down her hips to the nest above her sex. His hand skimmed over her flesh, molding her breasts, stroking the flat spot just below her navel.

It wasn’t until his long, skilled fingers moved lower, slid inside her pantalets to caress her thigh, that Silver felt the first small twinge of something other than passion.

“I want you,” Morgan whispered, his hard body
pressing her down on the bed, his heavy weight holding her immobile. His hand slipped purposely along her skin, into the downy blond triangle of hair at her core, and Silver tensed.

“Easy,” he soothed, but the words seemed to come from far away. Morgan kissed her again, long and hard; then his finger slid inside the soft, damp folds of her flesh.

Silver felt the heat of it, felt his probing touch … and something snapped inside her head. Suddenly, in the eye of her mind, it wasn’t Morgan’s lips she felt, wasn’t his gentle fingers between her legs. It was something dark and sinister, something evil and repulsive. Something she had to fight no matter the cost. She started to struggle, tried to cry out, but Morgan’s hard kiss silenced her.

Silver battled the image that rose before her, fought to recall the handsome face of the man who held her, but all she saw was the ugly face of the devil himself.
Stop!
she tried to cry out, her body growing rigid and beginning to thrash beneath the heavy weight that pinned her down.
Let me go!

But the words were lost, and the fingers delved deeper inside. Silver felt the bile rise in her throat. She no longer knew where she was or why she was there; she knew only she couldn’t stand another moment, knew that she had to escape. Tensing and squirming, beginning to scratch and claw, Silver struggled in earnest. With a whimper of fear, she finally tore free of the hands that held her, only to discover a stunned Morgan Trask looming above her.

Tears flooded her eyes, and a soft sob caught in her throat. Oh God, how could she have let this happen? Morgan’s words came back with a vengeance.
What
kind of woman are you
? What would he think of her now?

Terrified of what she might see in his face, Silver wouldn’t look at him. Instead she felt his heavy weight as he shifted on the bed and swung his long legs to the floor, taking a place beside her. Then he eased her into his arms.

“It’s all right, sweeting, I’m not going to hurt you.” Morgan hadn’t missed the touch of her maidenhead, which he’d only half expected to find. He should have been more careful, but tender young virgins were hardly his style. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to go so fast.”

Silver shook her head. “It isn’t you.” She looked up at him through her tears. “I was afraid this might happen.” The anguish in her soft brown eyes was unlike anything he had seen. “No matter how much I want this, now I know I can’t.”

“You’re just frightened.” Morgan brushed strands of hair from her tear-damp cheeks. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Silver only shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

For the first time Morgan saw it—there in her eyes. The unnatural glaze that wasn’t fear of him, but something else, some dark emotion that fought to get out yet remained locked away. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what has happened to you.”

She only glanced off in the distance, her gaze fixed on some unknown point on the opposite wall.

Morgan cupped her chin with his hand and turned her to face him. “Tell me.”

For a moment Silver said nothing. Then resolve settled into the lines of her face, and something that looked like resignation.

She swallowed back her tears and glanced away.
“I was only thirteen,” she whispered, staring once more straight ahead. “There was a man.…”

Morgan felt his stomach clench.

“He came into my room. He—” She broke off with a bitter sob.

“It’s all right, sweeting. Just take your time.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m afraid of what you’ll say.”

Morgan stiffened. “You were only thirteen, for God’s sake. Whatever happened, you’re hardly to blame.”

Silver said nothing.

“I want you to tell me, Silver.”

Silver’s eyes slid closed against a wave of pain. When she opened them, her lashes were spiked with tears. “He tore off my nightgown.” Her tongue ran over her trembling lips. “He was so heavy … pressing me down on the bed. I can still remember how hot and moist his hands were, the way they quivered when he held me down and slid them over my body. He touched me … where you did.… Oh, God, I felt so dirty … so terribly, horribly dirty.”

Morgan pulled her tighter against him, wrapping his arms around her and wishing he could take away the pain.

“Delia stopped him,” she continued. “She risked her life for me.”

“It’s all right,” Morgan soothed. “No one’s going to hurt you now.” He wanted to ask who the man was, wanted to know if she had told William. But she looked so upset he didn’t want to press her.

Silver leaned her cheek against his chest, her trembling fingers resting over his heart. “I wanted you so badly. I was sure with you I wouldn’t be reminded. Now I’ll never know what it’s like to be with
a man.” Warm tears wet his skin and glistened on the thatch of hair across his chest.

“You’re wrong, Silver. All it takes is the right man, a little patience … and a little trust.” Morgan recognized his words as the truth and made a decision. With the abrupt end to their lovemaking, he had been given one last chance to end this madness with Silver before it was too late.

Morgan wouldn’t take it. Silver had responded to him with a passion as fiery as any he had known. Even now it was there, simmering just beneath the surface. Morgan had enough experience with women to know exactly how to make that passion erupt.

She brushed the tears from her cheeks and looked up at him, hope and something more in her eyes. “Do you really think so?”

Morgan bent his head and kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss meant to stir a bit of that warmth. “Well?” he prodded lightly when he finished. Her face looked flushed, her lips rosy-hued and pouty.

“Maybe there is a chance.” Still, she didn’t seem sure.

“What you’ve told me tonight sets you free, Silver. You had nothing to do with what happened. No man is going to blame you—especially not me.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Trust me?”

Brown eyes, no longer troubled, fixed firmly on his face. “More than any man I’ve ever known.”

For reasons Morgan couldn’t explain, her words stirred something inside him, and another decision was made. Meanwhile, he had set himself a task and he meant to tackle it as he never had another.

When Morgan Trask made love to Silver Jones, there’d be no room in her mind for thoughts of another man.

* * *

Morgan left the bed and walked to his desk. Removing the heavy glass stopper from a decanter of brandy, he poured some of the amber liquid into a snifter and returned to where Silver sat on the edge of the bed. She still wore her pantalets, pulled back up to her waist, but only her weighty mass of silver hair covered her beautiful breasts.

“Drink this,” Morgan commanded.

Silver blanched as the brandy blazed a path down her throat, but she took several more healthy sips, and some of her tension seemed to ease. Morgan kissed her tenderly, enjoying the taste of the liquor that sweetened her lips. When he reached for the cord to her pantalets, her hand shot up to stop him.

Reluctantly she released her hold on his wrist. “I’m sorry.” Apparently she meant to abide by her word and leave the matter of her seduction up to him.

Morgan gently slid the white cotton drawers down her legs, leaving her naked, and eased her back on the bed.

“Do you know how lovely you are?” Silver flushed and glanced away. “You should be proud of your body, Silver. It’s one of the most beautiful I’ve seen.”

Silver said nothing, but she seemed to relax a little more. Morgan took that moment to pull off his boots and unbutton and slide off his breeches. Silver watched with quiet fascination as he walked toward her naked, his shaft still rigid with desire.

He stood boldly in front of her. “Touch me, Silver. Feel how much I want you.”

For a moment she seemed uncertain, then with trembling fingers, she reached for him, her warm hand sliding around him, tentatively at first, then
with more daring. A slow smile curved her pretty pink lips.

“That’s enough,” Morgan said, a bit more harshly than he had meant to. He touched her cheek. “There’s a good deal left for us to do yet this eve; we’ll need to go slowly. You’ve just as much power over me as I do you.”
More
, he thought. Already he ached for her with every heartbeat, and they hadn’t even begun.

Morgan joined her on the bed, settling his long length beside her. Reaching over, he kissed her; sweetly at first, bringing a soft response, then with more urgency. It took only minutes to arouse her, seconds more to feel her body writhing beneath him, urging him onward. After what had happened, he wouldn’t have believed she’d respond to him again so quickly, but this was Silver, not some ordinary woman. He should have known.

Silver felt his hands on her body, felt the gentle skill with which he touched her, and the heat he stirred seemed to sear through her limbs. His mouth touched everyplace his hands did, tasted, nipped, and turned her to flame. Only Morgan could make her feel this mounting tide of passion. Only Morgan. She saw his face in her mind’s eye, saw his warm green eyes, saw his smile, saw the scar that was so much a part of him. Morgan lifted a breast into his hands, bent down, and laved her nipple in such an achingly sensuous manner Silver moaned.

Her own hands moved restlessly from the muscles across his shoulders, to the smooth dark skin on his back, to his tight round buttocks. She kneaded the sinewy globes just as he had done to her and heard his low-pitched groan of passion. His hardened shaft pressed hotly against her thigh.

Morgan eased to his side and continued his patient
exploration, his hands moving to the flat spot below her navel, his hard shaft pressing against her leg. His fingers kneaded and teased, raised gooseflesh across her skin, but strayed no farther.

“You like this, don’t you, Silver?”

Silver squirmed beneath his touch, wanting more, yet dreading the consequences. “Yes.”

Morgan levered himself up on an elbow and looked down at her. “Take my hand, Silver.” His voice sounded rough and husky. “Your body needs soothing. I’m the one who can do it.”

This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Both of them knew that it was. No longer uncertain, Silver clasped his fingers and slid them lower, through the pale blond hair at the juncture of her legs. Morgan traced patterns on the insides of her thighs, stroked through the downy thatch, then parted the silky folds of flesh and slid his finger inside.

Silver moaned as a flood of heat rushed over her.

“It’s me, Silver, no one else.” His fingers slid out and then in, gentle yet determined, and this time Silver knew exactly who it was. “Feel me, Silver. Trust me.” Teasing and stroking, stretching her gently, he readied her for what lay ahead. Silver writhed against the growing heat, the building fires of passion. Certain she would die of the pleasure, she strained against his probing touch.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what, Silver? Please, Morgan, stop?” His hand stilled and with it the fiery sensations.

“Oh, God, no.” Morgan’s practiced fingers slid in and out, caressing and touching until her skin felt on fire and her body trembled all over. Something was rising inside her, something elusive. But it wasn’t dark and loathing, only sweet and inviting, beckoning her to far-off planes.

Just when she thought she might reach it, Morgan stopped.

“Please,” Silver begged. “Oh, God, Morgan, please.”

“This is what you need, Silver.” He pressed her hand against his throbbing arousal. It felt thick and hard and so hot she thought it might scorch her. There was power in that smooth, hard flesh, power and domination. But there was the promise of excitement, too, and reward far sweeter than she had ever dared to dream.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

Morgan positioned himself above her, centering his hardened shaft at the entrance to her soft, damp flesh and easing the tip inside her. When he went no farther, Silver nearly sobbed in frustration.

“Do you want me, Silver?”

“I want you. I need you, Morgan, please.”

Morgan kissed her then slid himself inside as far as he could go, stopping only when he had reached her maidenhead.

“There’ll be pain, sweet, but only for a moment.”

Her loins felt on fire. “Please,” she whispered. The pain didn’t matter—what she suffered now had to be worse than anything he might do.

And it was; the tearing lasted only a moment. Morgan eased himself full length then stopped, waiting for her body to accept the fullness of his invasion.

“All right?”

“Yes.”

“No more nightmares?”

She smiled at him softly. “This dream is nothing like the other.” Morgan bent his head and kissed her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, coaxing hers to do the same, rousing her as it had before. The pain was gone completely. She could feel his hard length
as he drew himself out, then slid into her once more. Again and again he drove into her, moving faster and faster, thrusting hard and deep, until Silver gave in to the mindless swirls of passion. She met each of his pounding thrusts, entwined her legs with his, and arched her body against him.

His powerful strokes consumed her, driving against her soft flesh, pounding and pounding, her hips moving beneath him, arching to meet each of his thrusts. Every nerve ending sang with the feel of him, every sinew, every fiber. She clutched his shoulders and cried out his name, and something sweet and hot rolled over her. Her mind swirled; her body tensed; bright bursts of sunlight glittered behind her eyes. It was so incredibly sweet, so deliciously poignant. She felt awed by it, humbled in a way she couldn’t explain.