The Prize (51 page)

She gasped, stunned.

He closed his eyes as
if agonized, then sat down beside her hip. He took both of her hands in his.
"I will not ask for your forgiveness, little one, because I do not deserve
it."

"You are
forgiven," she whispered instantly, meaning it.

His nostrils flared,
indicating huge emotion, and he stared, never releasing her hands. "How
can you be so kind after what I have subjected you to? Tom attacked you because
of our charade—the charade I insisted upon. God, I wish I had killed him,"
he cried.

She had never seen
him emotional like this before; he was a man who only expressed anger.
"It's all right," she whispered raggedly. Her own fingers tightened
on his hands. "He didn't rape me in the end."

His eyes widened.
"Is that what he was about? In a public hall?"

Virginia
saw the fury in his eyes and she
hesitated. "I think so."

He leapt up. "I
will kill him after all."

She sat up
straighter, confused. "Because of me?"

"What other
reason would there be?" he asked in some amazement.

She stared.
"Your father."

His jaw flexed.
"This is not about my father."

She reeled, his words
having the most profound, dizzying effect, and she sank back against the
pillows, stunned.
This was not about his revenge.

"I must
go," he said suddenly.

"No!" And
her gaze blurred. "Please don't leave me now."

He stared.

She stared back and
held out her hand, imploring him to come.

His expression
remained impossibly taut and she saw the battle he waged in his eyes.

"Please,
Devlin," she whispered. "Please stay—please hold me—just for a
moment." Her voice cracked.

He reached her in a
stride and sat down, taking her hands again. "You ask too much of me
now," he warned.

She shook her head,
leaning toward him, and when he did not move, she placed her cheek on his
chest.

She felt him stiffen,
she heard him inhale, and then his hand clasped her back.
Virginia
almost smiled, as more tears
fell, rapidly now, and the gold buttons and braid of his jacket rubbed
unpleasantly against her face. His hand stroked down her back, over the silk of
her robe and her underclothes, and she half sighed and half choked.

"Please don't
cry," he said harshly, and it was a plea. "It is over now, you are
safe, and we will end this absurd game."

She lifted her face
and looked up at him. "I can't play it anymore—it hurts too much."

He nodded, his gaze
odd, almost moist, and then he leaned down and brushed her mouth lightly with
his. "It's over,
Virginia
, I swear," he said.

His tone was husky
with regret and something far different, desire.
Virginia
's hands found the epaulets on his shoulders
and she held him that way as he brushed his mouth over hers, again, very, very
softly.

A huge sigh escaped
her, the tears ceasing, her entire body tightening with incredible urgency. His
mouth had paused, firm and still, and she opened against him, seeking another
kiss.

For one moment he did
not move as she brushed her mouth over his, again and again, faster and faster
still, every fiber of her body taut with need now, because her entire life had
been reduced to this single moment—she had to be one with him. Nothing else
mattered, and in that union she knew nothing else would exist. Not his revenge,
not the near rape. Not the humiliation of the past month. Nothing else would
exist except Devlin and herself and her love.

"Don't," he
warned. "This is dangerous,
Virginia
."

Virginia thrust her
tongue into his mouth as he spoke and he tensed—the invasion was so sweet that
she moaned, licking his teeth, the inside of his cheeks, his lips.

"I cannot,"
he gasped, pushing her onto her back. His eyes were wide, brilliant, silver.
"I cannot promise you restraint."

She shook her
head—she did not want restraint—and she gripped his neck and pulled his face
down toward hers.

He groaned and
claimed her mouth frantically—but he was holding himself back, clearly afraid
to hurt her, and she felt his entire body shaking with the effort it cost him.

                             
415

Virginia
pushed at his jacket.

"Am I hurting
you?" he cried, flinging the coat off. "I don't want to hurt
you!"

"You're not
hurting me," she gasped, unbuttoning his pale ivory waistcoat and pulling
it off. His eyes widened and when she tugged his shirt out of his britches, he
helped her, whipping off the cravat and shrugging off the shirt, tossing both
aside.

She cried out at the
sight of his naked upper body and found her hands on his chest, exploring the
slabs of rock-hard muscle there.

He found her mouth
again, and now, as he kissed her deeply, he opened her wrapper, and then pulled
away, staring, as he lifted her chemise up. He froze.

Virginia
glanced down and saw her bruised
breast.

"Oh, God,"
he whispered.

He was straddling
her, clad in his britches, stockings and shoes, clearly aroused and clearly
about to abandon her.

Virginia
's need was so vast that her
entire body was shaking. She knew he had lost almost all of his control, she
knew they were instants away from making love, and she took his hand and
covered her bruised breast with it.

He cried out.

"You cannot
leave me now," she whispered.

His gaze met hers,
filled with anguish and heat.

She took his hand and
moved it to her other breast, rubbing it over the hard nipple there.

He inhaled harshly.
And then he had her in his arms again, their mouths mating, tongues entwining.
Virginia
knew she had won and she held on
to him, hard.

He tore off her
wrapper and chemise, kissed her breast, slid his hand down her belly and over
her silk drawers.
Virginia
gasped, eyes closing, as he
delved through the slit drawers, where he found wet, hungry flesh throbbing
against his fingertips.

He made a choked
sound. She heard his shoes hit the floor, heard him tear off his stockings and
britches, and then she felt his strong bare legs against hers and his velvety
smooth, rock-hard shaft.
Virginia
cried out.

He smiled once, hard
and tight, and bent and kissed her sex.

Virginia
meant to hold him down. He
evaded her, slipping her drawers down her legs and tossing them to the floor.
She looked at him.

He was completely
naked, all power, all muscle, huge and strong. He smiled a little, something
primitive and triumphant in his expression, and he moved over her. "I don't
want to hurt you, darling," he whispered roughly.

"You
won't," she managed.

He smiled a little,
as they both knew it must be a lie, with her so tiny and him so huge. "
Virginia
," he said, kissing her
slowly.

She moaned as he
probed against her, the sensation too much to bear. Blackness threatened, and
with it, an explosion of fiery sparks.

Stroking himself
once, twice more against her sex, he murmured, "Are you ready for me,
darling?"

She did not answer
because she could not, she only cried out.

"I think
so," he said roughly, stroking over her again. And his entire body
shuddered.

Devlin pushed against
her.

For one moment,
Virginia
tensed, having forgotten just
how massive his invasion was.

"Darling,"
he said roughly against her temple, pressing slowly into her.

Virginia
cried out as he filled her, inch
by deliberate inch. When it seemed he could go no farther, she clung, panting
hard, as tense as a drum.

"Relax, little
one, let me bring you pleasure—vast pleasure," he said harshly, and he
moved.

He moved deeper yet.

Virginia
clawed his back, about to tell
him to stop, when her body yielded and a wave of heated pleasure began. She
gasped in surprise as Devlin began to ride her, slowly and rhythmically, his
body shaking with his restraint as he did so.

The pleasure mounted
impossibly.
Virginia
held him, wrapping her calves
around his thighs, causing him to gasp with pleasure and thrust harder, deeper,
now. Yes, she managed to think, blinded by the pleasure, the man, and she
clawed him, wanting more, demanding it. He responded. As he thrust deep,
carrying her across the bed, she held on, crying out, wave after wave of
ecstasy washing over her, through her, and still he pounded, gasping out,
crying, "Darling, let me give you more," and she wept, shattering, far
above the earth.

He continued to
plunder, his entire body hard and slick now beneath her hands, shaking wildly
as he moved.
Virginia
floated back down to their bed
and finally to a degree of reason, and she was stunned, stunned by the depth
of the passion she had just experienced and even more stunned now by the depth
of love. It was a huge wave, washing over her and through her the way her
orgasm had done.

She looked at him,
holding him tightly, amazed by the vast feeling in her heart. "I am
hopelessly in love," she thought, and as she thought so, she was acutely
aware of him within her, smooth and rock hard, and she looked at him.

His eyes were closed.
His face was strained. Sweat beaded on his temples, his brow. He was in the
throes of lust—she sensed his climax was near.

Her heart tightened
and her belly lurched and the desire, always incipient, throbbed around him.

She murmured,
"Ooh," in soft surprise.

"Will you...come
for me...again?" he said thickly.

She tried to nod, an
impossible task with the man so huge and aroused inside of her.

He bent and kissed
her recklessly, tongue to tongue; he feathered her face, licked her nipple,
biting it once, all the while embedded deep and hot inside of her. The pressure
escalated rapidly and she could not move, as she was so thoroughly impaled.

He knew. He laughed
harshly and pulled away;
Virginia
cried out, furiously protesting,
but he bent and licked her sex, prying between the lips there, and when she
began to keen he thrust inside, pushing her back up to the headboard of the
bed, and she was exploding again when she felt him begin to pulse. A moment
later he was crying out and heaving hotly against her.

Virginia
seemed to float in a delicious
aftermath for a long time. When her mind began to work, she could only feel—his
body against hers, their legs entwined, his palm on her belly, perilously near
her sex, which was still acutely sensitized, the stiff bones of her corset—and
the ballooning feeling of love in her breast. She did not want to feel anything
else, but so quickly worry and the beginnings of dread began.

This had happened
once before, and she would never forget the heartbreak that had followed.

She was lying on her
back and he lay beside her. Her small leg lay over one of his and their hands
were side by side, just barely touching.
Virginia
realized he was awake and as thoughtful as
she was. Dread tightened every fiber of her being; she closed her eyes briefly
and prayed.

Then she turned her
face and looked at him.

He stared up at the
ceiling. She had one moment to feel the depth of her love when he turned to
look back at her.

Her heart stopped.

He smiled a little.

Relief dared to
begin.

Their gazes held. His
was, she realized, searching. "Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly.

Perhaps, just
perhaps, this was a new beginning.
"No," she whispered.

He smiled just a
little again, then turned and pulled her across his chest and into his arms.
And he kissed her temple.

Virginia
almost fainted with disbelief
and relief.

"Are you
uncomfortable?" he asked after a moment.

Her cheek was on his
chest, his arm draped over his abdomen, his other arm around her.
Virginia
was afraid she might cry with
happiness if she spoke. It took her a moment to say, "I am fine."

He hesitated, then
his fingers moved up and down her forearm. And he kissed her temple again.

Virginia
was afraid to move—afraid to
break the moment—afraid that if she did, it would vanish, as if it had never
been. So she froze there in his arms.