The Bride Thief

Chapter Fifteen

Sammie arrived at the lake at half after ten that evening. She hadn't planned to arrive so early, but she hadn't been able to remain indoors another moment. The cool night air beckoned her, as did the nocturnal sounds and moist scents of the forest.

He would arrive in less than two hours. The man who would be her lover. And she would embark on the most thrilling adventure of her life. With a man who had unquestionably become very… important. A man she undeniably… cared for deeply.

Her eyes drifted closed, and her heart beat a wild rhythm as it had all day. What would it be like? Wonderful. Like everything you've already shared with him, only more. Heat shimmered through her as she recalled his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her. A long sigh drifted from her lips. He'd already made her feel things she'd never known existed, and by doing so had awakened her hunger for more. She could only hope that her inexperience would not tarnish their liaison for him.

She wandered to her favorite area, a small private cove secluded by an outcropping of rocks and an abundance of tall hedges. Lowering herself onto a large, flat-topped rock, she trailed her hand in the water. The coolness felt like a welcome balm against her heated skin.

She slipped off her shoes, then rolled down her stockings. When she couldn't stand pacing in her bedchamber another moment, she'd grabbed an extra chemise, then made her way to the lake, knowing nothing soothed her like a dip in the water. There was plenty of time to dry and redress before Lord Wesley arrived.

She shimmied out of her gown, then folded it carefully on the rock. She removed her spectacles, placing them inside her shoe. Dressed only in her chemise, she waded into the cool water until it lapped at her waist. She breathed in the scent of moist earth, and blew out a contented sigh. Trailing her hands through the glasslike surface, she closed her eyes and turned in slow circles, allowing the quiet stillness to relax her muscles, soothe and calm her.

A twig cracked. Her eyes snapped open, and she squinted toward the sound. A blurry blob stood on the shore. Her heart jumped, but before she could say a word, his deep, smooth voice reached her ears.

"It appears we're both early."

Eric stood frozen in place at the sight of her, standing in the privacy of the secluded cove, waist-deep in the water, dressed only in her chemise, moonlight reflecting off her shoulders. He'd come early, unable to remain in his empty house, thinking about her, wanting her. He'd hoped she might arrive a few minutes early, but he hadn't dared to hope for… this. It was as if the gods had placed his fantasy before him, like a banquet feast.

Without moving his gaze from hers, he removed his jacket, allowing it to fall to the ground. Next he untied and removed his cravat. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he walked into the lake, not stopping until he stood directly in front of her. She stared up at him with a dazed, startled expression.

He took her hands, entwining their fingers, then lowered his head until their foreheads touched. "I trust I am no longer blurry."

She shook her head and their noses bumped. "No. But you've ruined your clothing. Your boots."

"I have others." He leaned back, drinking in the sight of her. A simple ribbon held her hair back from her face. Her eyes appeared enormous, filled with a nearly heartbreaking combination of longing and trepidation. Her mouth appeared to tremble, and the need to touch her, kiss her, slammed into him with such intensity he nearly groaned.

He placed her wet hands against his shirt, pressing her palms to his chest. "Someone told me that you swam in this lake," he whispered.

There was no mistaking the embarrassment that passed over her features. "The gossips often remark upon what they consider my eccentric behavior. I'm certain you were properly scandalized."

"No. I was fascinated." His gaze wandered down to her breasts which pushed against the thin material of her chemise. "You cannot know how many times I've imagined you like this. Wet. Waiting. For me."

"You have?"

"Yes." Almost constantly. Reaching out, he trailed a single fingertip slowly across her cheek, over her jaw, down her neck, watching the play of emotions flare in her eyes. Any questions he might have entertained regarding her still wanting to follow through with their plans evaporated by the desire he read in her eyes.

His hand continued its lazy journey, brushing over her collarbone, then slipping downward to caress the swell of her breasts. When a tiny gasp escaped her, he cupped his hands in the water, then drizzled a trail of cool water over her shoulder. A thin wet path meandered down her chest. Entranced, he repeated his action several times, allowing ribbons of water to drip off his fingers onto her moonlight-dusted skin.

"Everywhere the water touches you," he said softly, "your skin gleams like silver."

She clutched at his shirt. "Newton's law," she murmured in a breathless voice. "To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."

"Ah. So when I touch you like this…?" He filled his wet palms with her full breasts. "What is your reaction?"

"I… shiver."

"And when I do this…?" He caressed her nipples through her wet chemise, tugging gently as he molded her soft flesh to his palms.

"Oh, my." Her head tipped back and a long moan escaped her. "I tremble. Everywhere."

"And this?" He slowly slipped the thin cotton straps down her arms, exposing high, rounded breasts topped with aroused nipples.

"I… I forget how to breathe."

Desire, sharp as a knife, stabbed him. With a low groan, he dipped his head, circling first one aroused peak, then the other with his tongue. She squirmed against him, still clutching his shirt as if it were a lifeline. Slipping one arm around her hips and cupping her head with the other, he leaned her back, drawing a plump nipple into his mouth. His lips and tongue caressed her, tasting her satiny, honey-scented skin, reveling in her quick intake of breath, followed by an earthy moan that aroused him beyond bearing. His hand slipped down to her rounded buttocks, and he pulled her tight against him, her feminine softness pressing against his hardness.

An inferno of need suffused him, and he lost all sense of time and place. Mine, mine, mine echoed through his mind as his teeth tugged her chemise lower. His wet fingers traced over her revealed skin as he trailed a hot path of kisses up to her neck, then fused his mouth to hers.

Blood rushed through him so hard that he felt it pounding in his ears. No woman, ever, had tasted like this. So sweet. So hot and silky. So delicious that he felt as if he could kiss her for days and still not have satisfied his hunger for her. He explored all the warm secrets of her satiny mouth, memorizing each tantalizing texture, as his hands wandered with increasing urgency up and down her back.

He needed to slow down, to savor each of her moans, but as she'd done before, she robbed him of his finesse. He hadn't planned to make love to her for the first time standing in the lake, but he couldn't seem to stop. Hell, he couldn't even slow down. His heart slammed against his ribs like a hammer. He felt as if his skin had shrunk two sizes, all but strangling him. He wanted, needed, her hands on him.

Breaking their kiss, he drew a ragged breath into his lungs. "Touch me, Samantha. Don't be afraid."

Uncertainty glimmered in her eyes. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to displease you."

He would have laughed if he'd been able. "There's not much chance of that." With one hand, he quickly unfastened his shirt, then glided her palm across his chest. A low growl rumbled in his throat. Releasing her hand, he said, "Do it again."

She brushed her hand across his chest, and his muscles contracted under her light touch. "Do you like that?" she asked, splaying her fingers against his skin, her eyes alight with wonder.

"God, yes."

Growing bolder, she lifted her other hand to his chest, and slowly eased her fingers downward, over his ribcage. "What is your reaction when I do that?" she asked.

It took every bit of his concentration to remain still and allow her to explore. "My heart pounds."

She ran her hands upwards, brushing over his nipples. "And that?"

He moved slightly, rubbing his erection against her. "It arouses me."

Her eyes widened. Taking one of her hands, he slid it down his chest, over his abdomen, then slipped it under the water. He pressed his rigid arousal against her palm. "You arouse me. Undeniably. Unequivocally. In a way that is nearly unbearable. So many 'u' words to describe what you do to me."

Her fingers closed around him, and his teeth clenched against the pleasure. He stood in an agony of sweet torment while she ran her fingers up and down his rigid length, learning him through his breeches. Her gaze remained steadily on his, and he watched her absorb the feel of him, along with the white-hot desire he knew burned in his eyes.

Without breaking their gaze, he unfastened his breeches, freeing his aching arousal. Her fingers closed over him, and his breath stalled. The cool water in no way tempered his ardor, and her hand enveloped him like a warm glove.

God help him, he didn't know how much of this he could stand. Her fingers moved over him, each caress killing him with pleasure. But when she squeezed him gently, he grasped her wrist.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked in a stricken voice.

His fingers tightened on her skin. "No. But when you do that…" he swallowed hard.

Feminine understanding suddenly gleamed in her eyes. "How do you react?" she asked in a voice he could only describe as smoky.

"It makes me forget to go slow with you. Makes me forget your innocence."

She flexed her fingers over his aching flesh and he groaned. "I do not feel very innocent," she whispered. "I feel decadent. And wicked. And… wanting."

God, he knew all about wanting. Wanting until he felt as if he'd caught on fire. Wanting, needing, until he burned from the inside out.

"I want to touch you more," she whispered.

Unable to deny either of them, he released her wrist. She glided her hand up and down, over him, igniting him until any semblance of control he might have imagined he still possessed, disappeared. Gone was his sophistication, his experience, his mastery over his own body. His hands trembled and his damn knees felt weak. All from her. Nothing existed except her. The touch of her hands. The feel of her skin. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. Now. Before he exploded in her hands.

Slipping one hand under the water, he grabbed the hem of her chemise and drew it upward.

"Hold onto my shoulders and wrap your legs around my hips," he ground out in a barely recognizable voice.

She did as he bid, opening herself up to him. His hand slipped between them, under her chemise. He caressed her with a slow circular motion, watching her eyes slip shut. Her fingers bit into his shoulder muscles, her breaths long and deep.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Her eyelids fluttered open and pure male satisfaction slammed into him at her languorous, bemused expression. When she focused on his face, he said, "Say my name."

Her lips parted and she sighed out, "Lord Wesley."

"No. My given name. Eric." He parted her plump folds, teasing her gently, then eased one finger just inside her. "Say it."

"Eric," she whispered.

Her velvety warmth surrounded his fingertip, and his erection jerked in response. She was so tight. So warm. So ready. And he could wait no longer.

He slowly slipped his finger from her, and a soft moan of protest rumbled from her. With his gaze locked on hers, he grasped her hips, then guided himself slowly into her welcoming heat. When her maidenhead halted his progress, he stilled, the significance of his actions ramming into him like a brick to his head. He was about to take her innocence-irrevocably ruin her. But God help him, unless she begged him to stop, there was no turning back now.

"We're not… finished, are we?" she asked in a tone that conveyed such suppressed dismay he would have chuckled had he been able.

Instead, he offered up a prayer of thanks that she hadn't asked him to stop. "No, sweetheart. We're not finished. But when I breach your maidenhead, it will probably hurt for a moment."

She brushed her wet fingertips over his face. "It couldn't possibly hurt worse than the thought of not sharing this with you. Don't stop. I want to know everything… every sensation. Every touch."

Praying he wouldn't hurt her, he tightened his grip on her hips, surging upward as he pressed her downward. Her eyes widened and she gasped, a sound that pierced his heart.

"God, I'm sorry," he said, forcing himself not to move. "Are you all right?" Damn it, had he been too rough? He should have taken more care. More time. But she'd driven him nearly insane-

"I'm… fine."

Thank God. But his relief instantly turned to sensual torture. Her feminine softness enveloped him like a tight silk glove, and he suddenly questioned his ability to withdraw from her when the time came. Gritting his teeth against the nearly unbearable pleasure, he remained motionless to give her time to adjust to the feel of him. A myriad of emotions flickered across her face… surprise, wonder, then pleasure, seconds later giving way to desire.

"In fact I'm…" She moved her hips, and he touched her a bit deeper, her liquid heat caressing him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and a long sigh escaped her as her lids drifted shut. "Oh, my."

Gripping her hips, he moved within her with an excruciating slowness that nearly killed him, easing nearly all the way out of her, only to slide smoothly back, filling her. Each time it seemed he caressed her deeper, she clenched him tighter, until he shook with burning need. His breathing turned into short, ragged, pants that matched her staccato gasps as his thrusts grew faster, stronger, the water swirling around them, slapping at their writhing bodies. He feared his intensity might frighten her, but she moved with him, her breaths as choppy as his.

"Eric," she moaned. Her legs clamped around his hips like a vise, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. He captured her against him, holding her so tightly, he didn't know where her skin ended and his began. He felt her orgasm tremble through her with his entire body. Her heart pounded against his, her hips bucked, and her sleek walls spasmed around him, drowning him in the same vortex that took her down.

The instant she sagged against him, he withdrew from her, helpless to hold back his climax another second. Clutching her to him, he buried his face against her fragrant neck, his arousal pressed tightly between them as his release shuddered through him.

He had no idea how many minutes passed before his breathing returned to normal and he could lift his head. When he did, she leaned back as far as his binding arms would permit and their gazes collided.

Pure incredulity glowed from her eyes. "Good heavens," she whispered. "That was…" her voice trailed off into a vaporous sigh.

"Incredible," he offered.

"Indescribable," she agreed.

"Intoxicating."

She reached out and traced his mouth with a single fingertip. "So many 'i' words to describe what you did to me, Eric."

He kissed her finger, then drew it slowly into his mouth, circling it with his tongue before releasing it. "So many 'i' words to describe you, Samantha," he corrected.

She lowered her lashes, and he knew his words brought a blush to her cheeks. "I didn't know people did… this in the water."

"Neither did I."

Her gaze flew to his. "You mean you've never…?"

"In a lake? No. This was a first for me."

A smile of unadulterated delight lit her face, and his throat tightened at the enchanting, sensual picture she made.

"I'm glad this was an adventure for you as well," she said. "I feared my lack of knowledge might bore you."

For an instant the area around his heart went hollow, then flooded with a tenderness he'd never before experienced. How could she not know that she was nothing less than fascinating? In every way? Because so many fools overlook what is right in front of them. Idiots. Yet, he selfishly couldn't deny that what others failed to recognize and admire in her somehow made her seem more his.

Brushing a damp tendril from her cheek, he said, "I assure you, I have never been less bored in my life. Indeed, boredom is not a feeling you have ever once inspired in me. And you are not lacking, Samantha. In any way."

He again sensed her blush, and she glanced downward. "I couldn't help but notice that you withdrew before you…"

"I promised you I would." And you have no idea how the effort nearly killed me.

Raising her gaze to his, she whispered, "I didn't realize that a man's seed was so… warm."

Warm? Hell, scalding was closer to the truth. He'd felt hot enough to heat the entire damn lake. Just recalling the sensation of her wrapped around him, his flesh buried deep inside her, pumped renewed desire through him.

"I think we'd best exit the lake before we become waterlogged." Before I make love to you again. "I hadn't meant to make love to you for the first time in the water?"

Interest flared in her eyes. "Oh? What had you planned?"

"Bringing you to a small lodge on my property." He gazed into her eyes, and his blood stirred. "Would you like to accompany me there now?"

She only said one word, but it was the only word he wanted to hear.

"Yes."