The Black Diamond (14 page)

When his thumb found the bud of her desire, Aurora nearly came up off the seat. Her breath lodged in her throat, shock waves of sensation shooting through her like cannon fire.

"Julian … my God…" She yearned to say more, to plead with him to continue, but she couldn't speak, could scarcely recapture her breath. All she could do was gaze wildly up at him, praying he'd read the urgency in her eyes.

Julian's forehead was dotted with sweat, his own eyes blazing with a fierce hot light. "I know, Rory," he muttered in a guttural tone. "I know. I need that, too."

With that his thumb glided over her again, then again, his fingers continuing their excruciating assault as his thumb worked its magic.

With a sharp inarticulate cry, Aurora reached a pinnacle of sensation. Everything inside her converged then shattered, her body unraveling in a series of contractions that spiraled out from her core, quaked through her limbs.

Julian made a harsh, triumphant sound, his teeth clenching as he pressed deeper, letting her climax wash over him, grip his fingers in completion.

Collapsing onto the seat, Aurora went limp, her muscles weak, her body boneless in the exquisite aftermath. Eyes shut, she drifted dazed and replete, yet thoroughly aware of Julian's caresses within her, soothing her as he withdrew.

She cracked open her eyes. "That was glorious."

Despite his fierce arousal, the unabated tension permeating his body, Julian grinned at her straightforward understatement. "I'm glad."

"But there's more." She reached up, tugged at the top button of his breeches. "For both of us."

Julian's hand stilled hers, all humor having vanished. "Aurora, listen to me. This is your first time. No matter how gentle I am, I'm going to hurt you. I swear, I'll do everything in my power to minimize that pain. But my control is about to snap, that's how close to the edge I am. If you touch me, I'll…" His breath expelled in a hiss as, totally disregarding her husband's warning, Aurora wriggled her fingers free, worked them into the opening of his breeches, and did precisely what Julian had cautioned her against.

"You're so hot," she whispered, freeing two buttons to ease her way. "So powerful. I can actually feel you pulsing against my hand." She dispensed with the remaining buttons and watched in fascination as his rigid manhood sprang free. "Julian, you're magnificent." She traced a line to the straining tip.

Julian went wild. Growling her name, he tore off his clothing, flinging it about the carriage even as he came down over his bride, tugging apart her thighs and settling himself between them. "Dammit, Aurora," he rasped. "I'm going to…"

"I want that," she breathed, awed by his expression, the near-violent motions of his body. His hips were thrusting even before he penetrated her, his taut manhood desperately seeking the heated entrance it craved.

With unerring skill he found her.

Renewed pleasure shimmered through Aurora in rippling waves as Julian crowded into her tight hot passage. His earlier caresses had left her damp, pliant, and she opened to him eagerly, readily, gasping as she discovered this new extravagant sense of fullness. He pushed deeper, stretching her more, demanding that she take all of him.

"God." He ground out the word. "You feel so … damned … good."

"So do you," Aurora whispered. And she meant it. Nothing could describe this exquisite sensation of being possessed; nothing could lessen its wonder. Not even when the fullness transformed to pressure, threatened to become pain.

Biting her lip, Aurora wrapped her arms around Julian, caressing his feverish skin, feeling the sweat-drenched planes of his back shuddering beneath her touch. Her palms shifted to his shoulders, savoring the rigid muscles that—despite his earlier claim—trembled as they fought to slow his frenzied entry. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't hold back."

He shook his head, hard. "I'm hurting you."

"I don't care."

"Feel … with me," Julian rasped, his breathing harsh, labored. "Feel … beyond the pain…" He broke off, shifting his weight to his elbows, his hand sliding between their bodies, his fingers finding her.

A jolt of pleasure shot through Aurora, making her arch, drawing Julian deeper inside her. Pain became a reality—a reality that was eclipsed by the escalating sensations Julian's touch rekindled. He lowered his head, kissed her, his mouth hot and slow, his tongue gliding over hers even as his fingers glided over her most sensitive spot. Again, again—until everything went spinning away in a tidal wave of sensation and Aurora's nails dug into Julian's back, tugging him closer, needing him more, more.

When she was beyond rational thought, Julian acted.

With one purposeful lunge of his hips, he thrust past the thin veil of her innocence, burying himself to the hilt in her clinging warmth. Aurora tensed, her body registering a fleeting protest.

That protest died as quickly as it had begun.

Ever so slightly Julian rocked against her, his fingers continuing their erotic assault, refusing to allow her pleasure to recede. She melted around him in a rush, lifting against his palm, and by her very action, forcing him so deep inside her, she gasped.

Julian's reaction was savage. Throwing back his head, he emitted a feral roar, the veins in his neck standing out with the force of his need. He dragged his hand free, grasping Aurora's thighs and lifting them high around his waist. Clutching her bottom, he hauled her against him, opening her fully and crushing her loins to his.

This time it was Aurora who screamed.

Drowning pleasure coursed through her, throbbing through her body, drenching her yearning core. She shook her head vehemently when Julian withdrew, only to cry out her rapture as he drove forward again, filling her to bursting and grinding their hips together. His thrusts intensified—faster, harder—melding their loins over and over as he moved on her, in her. Reality vanished, time ceased to exist, and the world disintegrated into nothing but Julian … Julian … Julian…

They went over the edge together. Aurora sobbed as the contractions claimed her, washed over her in great untamable waves. From a distance she heard Julian emit a guttural shout, grip her to him as if to bind them forever. Then he was pounding into her, pulsing surges of release flooding from his body to hers in spasms Aurora could actually feel.

Drenched in sweat, they collapsed on the carriage seat, Julian's body blanketing Aurora's completely. She was acutely aware of the tremors rippling through him, the final surges of his seed spilling into her. Rather than cumbersome, his weight felt wonderfully comforting, and Aurora's eyelids drooped, too weary to remain open another instant. She was more exhausted than she'd ever dreamed possible, her body too numb to ache, too sated to move.

She must have slept.

A bumpy, jostling motion awakened her, and her eyes fluttered open. Frowning, she tried to recall where she was, why it was so dark, and why the room was moving.

The powerful body atop hers jogged her memory.

Shifting a bit, Aurora became abruptly aware of how battered she felt, how cramped the carriage seat really was. Still she was reluctant to stir. She touched strands of Julian's damp hair, stroked his head as it rested in the crook of her neck, his body relaxed and devoid of tension.

And inside hers still.

"You're awake." Julian's observation was deep, husky, murmured just beside her ear.

Aurora smiled. "You sound disappointed."

"Only because you feel so bloody good." He raised his head, his expression half teasing, half sober. "And now I'll have to move."

"Don't." Her arms tightened around him.

"Sweetheart, I've all but crushed you." He cast a rueful glance at the seat. "For the first time I regret our whereabouts. Were this a bed, I'd manage to ease over enough to free you of my weight while staying deep inside you. As it is…" He brushed her lips with his, then—with great reluctance—withdrew, kneeling on the seat and helping Aurora to a sitting position. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, concern knitting his brows.

Aurora leaned her head back, studying her husband with drowsy, sated eyes. "Oh, I think I'm a good deal better than 'all right'." She stretched, unbothered by her nudity, her sigh the epitome of contentment. "Passion, excitement, and adventure all within hours of exchanging our vows. I'm duly impressed, Your Grace."

Julian chuckled, brushing tendrils of hair from Aurora's flushed cheeks. "As am I,
soleil
—even if you did completely ignore my warning."

"Is that a complaint?"

"On the contrary. Even I never anticipated quite how high our fire would burn."

Scrambling to the edge of the seat, Aurora reached down and groped through their discarded clothing until she found Julian's waistcoat, extracted his timepiece.

"We've only been traveling two hours," she announced. "That gives us more than enough time to rebuild the fire—several times, in fact."

Laughter rumbled from Julian's chest. "Are you going to be insatiable, my beautiful bride?"

"Would you mind?"

"I'll adjust—somehow." Julian tugged her into the circle of his arms. "Of course, we'll have to save our more inventive explorations for my bed, where I'll have room enough to fully enjoy you—in every way." He kissed her hair, traced the delicate column of her spine. "But I think we can find enough to keep us occupied. At least for the duration of our journey."

* * *

They arrived at Julian's Polperro manor in an utterly disheveled state—if the flustered expressions of the driver and footmen who saw them alight were any indication. T
hank
fully, the remaining servants were all abed, partly because the hour was late and partly because they'd been advised to make themselves scarce. Thus, no one else witnessed the newly married couple's less than conventional entrance.

Julian ushered Aurora straight to his bedchamber, along with the tantalizing promise that she could explore the manor to her heart's content—after he'd finished exploring
her
to his.

Aurora was more than happy to delay her explorations indefinitely.

Kicking off her slippers, she crawled onto the bed, eagerly awaiting their next foray into the exhilarating world of passion. As if on cue, her body registered a protest, the discomfort between her legs intensifying, the muscles in her limbs throbbing a dissent. Hell and damnation, she admonished herself, watching Julian cross over to the fireplace, stoke the flames a bit higher. A long, enticing night awaited—a night she refused to forego because of her own understandable but intolerable physical limitations.

Julian turned, his gaze sweeping over her, probing, astute. "Rest for a minute," he commanded gently. "I'll be right back."

Relieved for this opportunity to recoup her strength, Aurora complied, curling onto her side and wriggling about until she found a comfortable position.

She half-dozed. From a distance, she heard sounds, but their meaning didn't register until she felt Julian undress her, swing her into his arms. Then she blinked, glancing about, and realized with surprise that while she'd rested, he'd produced a large copper tub and filled it with pots of steaming water.

"In you go," Julian murmured, lowering her into the bath.

Aurora sighed with pleasure as the hot water washed over her, relaxing her cramped muscles and magically easing the soreness between her thighs.

"Better?" he asked.

"Heaven. How did you know?"

One dark brow rose. "How did I know? I'm the cause of those aches, remember? The man who just spent long hours ravaging his virgin bride in a cramped carriage."

A smug smile curved her lips. "I remember. I also remember doing my share of the ravaging."