This Fierce Splendor (31 page)

T
he stairs stretched mountain-high before him, and Dominic knew he was going to have a head as big as a chamber pot in the morning. He shouldn’t have had that last drink with Da. For that matter, he shouldn’t have had that first drink with Da. His father had kept the bourbon flowing as freely as his arguments as to why Dominic should remain at Killara. If he wasn’t drunk, he was damn close to it.

He reached the top of the steps and moved slowly down the corridor. His gaze went automatically to the door at the end of the hall. The door to Elspeth’s room.

She would be lying in that big soft bed, her fair hair wild silk on the white pillow. He had warned her to lock her door. Had she done it? He paused outside his own room, feeling the familiar swelling of his manhood as he thought of how she had looked this afternoon with her breasts bare, cheeks rose-pink, eyes limpid. No matter what she said, she
had
wanted him. Heaven save him from pure, virtuous women. They were all liars whose greatest delight was the torment of men like him. From now on he would stay with the kind of women he knew something about.

Hell, maybe it was a good thing Da had kept filling his glass throughout the evening. He might be able to sleep tonight. If he wanted to sleep. He took an impulsive half step toward Elspeth’s door. Why not? he thought recklessly. The bourbon was setting off
tiny fires in his veins, and he needed a woman. He had warned her that she was not safe from him.

He came to a stop even as he reached for the knob of the door. He was a fool. Why was he hesitating? Tomorrow he would ride out and perhaps never see her again. Why not take what had been withheld so long? He stood there for a full moment, his muscles tense and his heart beginning to pound. His hand slowly fell away from the knob and he returned to his own door. Yes, there was no question about it. He was a fool.

He entered his room, not bothering to light the lamp on the table beside the door. He stripped off his shirt, poured water into the basin on the washstand, and splashed water on his face. The cold shock cleared his head a little but did nothing to alleviate the turmoil in his body. He reached out blindly for the towel on the rack beside the washstand.

A sight, soft and deep, floated from the bed across the room
.

Dominic’s hand froze before he touched the towel. His hand moved smoothly, swiftly, to the gun at his hip, drawing it even as he dropped to the floor. His gaze searched the darkness.

The sigh came again and with it a soft murmur.

Dominic rose slowly to his knees. He knew that sound. He had heard Elspeth utter that half-audible moan many times when she had been dreaming. He felt as stunned as if the bullet he had expected had torn into him. My God, had he blundered into Elspeth’s room by mistake? No, he wasn’t that drunk. This was his room and the bed Elspeth was lying in was his own bed.

He slid the Colt back into its holster and rose to his feet. He made his way to the table, fumbled for matches, and lit the lamp. His hand was trembling as he picked up the lamp and crossed the room to stand beside the bed.

She was naked, lying on the coverlet, her hair an unbound glory of lustrous brown shot with gold. Her eyes were closed, her lashes arcing onto the softness of
her cheeks. Her pink lips were crumpled and slightly parted.

He stood looking down at her, the muscles in his belly knotting and his manhood becoming rigid. The scent of mint and cloves radiated from her pale skin, shining in the lamplight as if burnished by a loving hand. His. She had come to him.

He set the lamp down on the bedside table, unfastened his gunbelt, and set it beside the lamp. The long wait was over. He began to strip quickly, never taking his gaze from the woman on the bed.

Heat surrounded her, invading her senses, piercing the heavy veil of sleep.

“Elspeth.” Dominic’s voice, rough velvet. “Open your eyes.”

Her lids were so heavy that it was a difficult command to obey. She wanted desperately to go back to sleep, but Dominic kept calling her as he had called her so many times before to free her from a prison of nightmares. She hadn’t realized she had been dreaming, but it must be so or Dominic wouldn’t be calling her. Her lids fluttered, then slowly opened.

He was so near, scarcely a breath away, looking down at her. His light eyes were hot and his lips were heavy with sensuality. He had looked like this once before, she remembered hazily, right before she had fallen down the slope. But that was a long time ago, a hundred nightmares ago, and she couldn’t quite recall …

“No, don’t shut your eyes again. Wake up, Elspeth.”

She hadn’t known her lids had closed, but she obediently opened them again to look into his face. How very unusual and shimmering were those gray-blue eyes gazing into her own. Dominic had such beautiful eyes. “I’m awake.”

“Good.” His voice was jerky. “Because I sure as hell can’t wait any longer.
Come here
.” His lips were on her breasts, this tongue flicking at the sensitive nipples. Flame shot through her and she cried out, arching up to him.

“And you can’t wait either, can you?” he muttered. “Crazy. I was crazy not to …” His hand moved down her stomach to nestle in the curls at the apex of her womanhood, tangling, pulling gently as he suckled at her nipple.

Her heart pounded painfully, she couldn’t breathe, her flesh was on fire. Hunger. She was experiencing insatiable hunger. She wanted more. Her hands went around his shoulders and slowly slid to his neck to curl in the thickness of the hair at its nape. “Dominic, I want … more,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you more.” His fingers moved down, searching. “I’ll give you all you can take.” He found what he had been seeking and began massaging, stroking.

She convulsed, the muscles of her stomach clenching. Sleep vanished, the world vanished. All that remained was Dominic’s skillful fingers and that secret part of her slavishly responding to his bidding.

His gaze was narrowed on her face, hungrily catching every nuance of expression. “Hell, I’ll give you more than you can take. I want to make you want it so bad you’ll beg me for it.” His fingers began a circular movement.

She gasped and her teeth clenched. A pulse throbbed in her temple, another throbbed against his fingers. “Dominic!”

“I’ve wanted you too long,” he muttered as he moved over her. “I wanted time to touch you, play with you, dammit.” He parted her thighs, one finger running down the flowing heart of her. “Lovely. I knew you’d be this lovely.”

She should be fighting him, she thought vaguely. There was some reason why she should be fighting him.

Then his finger plunged deeply.

She cried out, arching helplessly up to him, her fingers tightening in his hair, and all thought of resistance left her.

“Tell me you want it.” His brilliant eyes blazed down at her. “Tell me you want
me
.”

His gaze was holding her own, his finger moving rhythmically within her. Her throat was too tight to speak.

The rhythm escalated. “Tell me.”

“
Yes
. Oh, yes.”

His thumb pressed hard on that sensitive button, his finger delved deeper. “All of it.”

Elspeth’s head was thrashing back and forth on the pillow, her teeth biting her lower lip to keep from crying out. “I want you, all of you.”

“You’re damn right you do.” His hands gentled, but his eyes were smoky-hot boring down at her. “And I’m going to keep it that way. I’m going to take you every way there is, and then I’m going to start over. I’m going to keep you so hot, all you’ll want is what I’m going to give you now.” His chest was moving with his labored breathing, and she could see the pulse leap in his temple.

He raised up on his knees and his rampant manhood was there before her. “See? I’m like this whenever I look at you, whenever I think of you, whenever I’m in the same room with you.” He took her hand and brought it to him.

Warmth, smooth hardness, pleasant to the touch. Her grasp unconsciously tightened around him.

His features convulsed, the cords of his neck stood out and he threw his head back.
“God!”

His nostrils flared as he tried to force air into his lungs. “Let me go, Love. I can’t take this right now. Later.”

She reluctantly released him. Beautiful. That part of him was as beautiful as the rest of him.

His face was heavy, flushed, as he looked down at her disappointed face. “You like me?” His lids half-closed, veiling his eyes. “You want me again?”

She nodded, staring up at him helplessly.

His hands gently widened her legs. “Here?” His palm covered her. Heat, possession, emptiness.

He knew. Dominic knew what she did not. She could see it in his face, feel it in the warmth of his hand. He knew how to stop the hunger and the fever. “Yes,” she whispered.

He was there, nudging gently, his hands once more performing that fiery magic. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” he said thickly. “I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

He had said that once before, she remembered dimly, and it had something to do with the reason why she should fight him. But it wasn’t the prospect of pain that had frightened her. It was something else.

He was entering her body. Fullness. Fever. His hard length fighting the tightness resisting it. On Dominic’s face was an expression of terrible pleasure. His eyes shut as his hands closed on her breasts. “You’re
killing
me,” he gasped. “Tight. You’re so tight.”

Was that bad? It didn’t seem so, for he wasn’t trying to withdraw. In fact, he was pushing harder, farther into her. Why had he said it would hurt? There was no pain, just this exquisite fullness to combat the hunger.

He stopped, his eyes opening slowly. They were glittering, wild, almost unseeing with the pleasure enfolding him. He trembled; a shudder rippled through him. “It’s time.” He lowered himself over her, resting his elbows on each side of her. “Open your mouth, love. Take me into you.”

Her gaze clung to his face as it lowered slowly toward her. There was nothing else in the room, nothing else in the world but his dark face and his body joined to hers.

“Merge with …” She forgot what she had been about to say as her lips parted and she took his tongue deep within her. He groaned low in his throat, but the sound was lost as their tongues met, toyed, blended.

He plunged forward, ripping aside the last barrier that separated them.

Pain, hot pain. Her cry was muffled against his lips. Then completion, fullness, delicious containment. One.

He lifted his head and looked down at her. “It’s over. Did I hurt you?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter.” She lay there, full of him, and pushed up on her elbows to look down at their joining. How smoothly he fit within her, just like the statue she had seen in that temple in India. Yet the
fit was the only smoothness about this jagged, pulsating, hungry intruder. She fell back on the bed. Her breasts beneath his hands were full, swollen, jutting up to touch his palms. “Is it truly over? There seems to be something … missing.”

He flexed slowly within her. “I only meant the pain was over.” He moved again and smiled with savage pleasure as she inhaled sharply and then moaned deep in her throat. “This is what it’s all about, Elspeth. This is why you came to me.”

She hadn’t come to him, he had come to her, but it didn’t seem to be worth arguing about at the moment. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as he began to move, buck, plunge with a rhythm that felt as if it were tearing her apart. She panted, her nails digging into his flesh. Hot liquid heat. Hunger. She was expanding inside, bubbling like the Sun Child, molten, and building toward an explosion.

“Elspeth.” Her name was a groan on his lips, spoken between clenched teeth. She could see the glow of perspiration on his throat and chest and the pungent scent of bourbon and musk surrounded him. “Mine. You belong to me.” He drove deep within her and stopped. “Say it.” His breathing was so labored he could scarcely get the words out.

She knew what he wanted with an instinct as ancient as time. Even though the haze of heat, the rhythm that was storming at her body, she knew what he needed. “Yours.” Her voice was scarcely audible, a mere wisp of a sound.

“Always?”

“Always.”

He began to move again, harder and hotter, cradling her buttocks to lift her up to receive each forceful thrust.

Tears were running down her cheeks. The world was trembling, the tension growing, his thrust deepening. Unbearable pleasure. Exquisite. Titanic. How could it go on without destroying them both? Was this magnificent destruction of the senses when she had
feared? No, she would have been helplessly enthralled with it as she was now. Then what?

The bairn
. The answer came to her suddenly. That was what had disturbed her, the possibility of hurt to the bairn.

“Dominic.” Her tongue moistened her dry lips. It was difficult to speak, but she must. “The bairn.”

At first she thought he hadn’t heard her. The rhythm didn’t lessen, nor did the intense pleasure on his face. Then he looked down at her and shook his head to clear it. “What?”

“The bairn. What if—”

His fingers moved to her lips. “Hush.” A smile so beautiful it took her breath away lit his dark face. “Mine,” he said softly. “Do you think I don’t know how to care for what is mine?”

No, Dominic would love and care for his child as he did for Killara. He would give it all his devotion and protection. Dominic would not let his bairn suffer hurt or humiliation. “Yes.” She closed her eyes and let the sorcery of emotion flow over her. “You would know, Dominic.”

A pang of tenderness shot through him, tempering his passion. “You have my promise, Elspeth.” He kissed her lips with a sweetness that shook her even more than his raging possession. “Content?”

When she nodded, he once more started the rhythm that brought not contentment but soaring hunger and desire. She gasped, her hands fluttering up to clasp him.

“Elspeth, I think …” His eyes were glazed, his voice a hoarse guttural growl. He moved faster, deeper, the world was spinning, devoid of air, enveloped in flame. “
Take
me.”