Dark Obsession by Allison Chase Page B

lamplight. He raised his gaze. . . .
    And swallowed a gasp of admiration. He could have lost himself in the silhouette of her hip, the contour of her stomach, the dusky silk at the junction of her legs. He ran a fingertip through the curling hairs, then drew it back. His desire for her throbbed, but it was too soon to venture there.
    Her eyes became huge and filled with questions, with the uncertainty she mimicked so well. That look bore the power to undo a man—if only it had been real.
    She wished to pretend, and he was more than happy to accommodate those wishes. Sliding his feet to the floor, he stood above her and ran his hands the length of those generous legs. With the utmost care he stroked her ankles, circled her calves, caressed behind her knees. He raised her foot and set his lips to the delicate instep, smiling when he felt a ticklish current run through her.
    Alternately he used his fingertips and his open palms, his lips, his tongue, drawing inward as he reached the tops of her thighs.
    She uttered a cry. He gripped her hips and raised them from the bed, pressing kisses to her belly. His lips strayed lower, to the tender skin in the bend of her thigh. He used his tongue and even his teeth for a sensual nip. She rocked beneath him, sighed, grabbed handfuls of the counterpane.
    ‘‘Tell me all you wish me to do, Nora.’’
    Her hands glided to her breasts, her fingers closing over her nipples.
    ‘‘Ah, you want to feel my hands there, is that it?’’ A ‘‘yes’’ made itself heard between panting breaths. Her small breasts filled his hands, burned beneath his palms. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and gleaming. She arched into him, splintering his control.
    ‘‘Sweet Nora, you are far too tempting. . . .’’ He spoke until his mouth reached her breast. Then his tongue grew too busy for words, learning the shape and taste of her nipple, molding it into a tight little peak. His teeth closed around it. She cried out.
    Her head came off the mattress and she gaped at him. He expected sharp words, a shove. Waited for her to crawl out from under him. His lust both raged and cringed as he anticipated the rebuke. Could he head it off?
    ‘‘By God, Nora, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’’
    ‘‘Hurt me?’’ She shook her head wildly. ‘‘You didn’t. That was . . . astounding. Gracious, I . . .’’ Her head fell back. Her eyes drifted shut. ‘‘Can you do it again?’’
    ‘‘I’ll try my best.’’
    He had her moaning within seconds, had himself breathless with urgency. But he neglected nothing, not a part of her, until her hands tore at his trouser buttons and her legs wrapped around him, drawing him close and making her desires clear.
    ‘‘Finish it,’’ she breathed against him. ‘‘Teach me all of it.’’
    Her fingers tightened, digging into his buttocks with an insistence that spurred him. But once again he fought the urge to hasten inside her.
    Instead he grasped her knees and eased her legs from around his waist. Backing the necessary few inches away, he held her thighs apart while he kissed his way between them. With his tongue he prepared her, adding his own moisture to the already damp folds. He searched out the hidden globe of flesh and with his lips adored it, revered it, pleasured it until Nora thrashed and clenched her fists against the mattress.
    Her apparent readiness and his own voracious need sent him sprawling over her.
    ‘‘No more pretending.’’ Pressing the head of his arousal against her, he braced his arms on the bed and pushed.
    Instead of the effortless sweep he expected, he encountered the very last thing he’d imagined or wished—a barrier. Even before his mind processed its meaning, he felt the sudden break, then a heated rush of fluid and Nora’s stifled cry against his shoulder.
    He went utterly still, his heart clenched around an awful certainty.
    She is a virgin. Was a virgin.
    God help him.
    Her hands clutched at his arms and a