Forbidden Love by Karen Robards Page A

slowness so that she could elude him if she tried. She merely closed her eyes. As her mouth parted sweetly beneath his, Justin knew one last moment of clarity, then he was conscious of nothing but the hot blood drumming through his veins and he kissed her with a fervor that set them shaking. She had learned the lessons of her first kiss well, and she responded to him without shyness or fear, her lips and tongue returning touch for touch, caress for caress. Her arms were tight around his waist; he could feel the whole perfect shape of her pressing against his body.
    Megan, for her part, felt as if she were moving in a dream. This had been the biggest part of her shame—the secret wish that he would do it again. And now he was kissing her, and it was the most wonderful thing that she had ever known. She surrendered to him utterly, reveling in the sheer size and strength of him as his big body bent ardently over her; rejoicing in the feel of his mouth on hers and the harsh rasp of his beard against the softness of her cheek. His arms were locked around her now, with one large hand cradling her head through the thick fall of her hair. Vaguely Megan wondered how he was managing to stand, then the increasing urgency of his kisses drove every thought from her mind.
    It was Justin who broke it off at last, pulling his mouth away from hers with obvious reluctance, steadying her when she sagged weakly against him.
    “I should be shot for that,” he said ruefully to the top of her head. Tremors still coursed through Megan’s body, and her arms still hugged his waist for support, and she tilted her head back to look up at him with a tiny smile.
    “I don’t think so,” she told him, feeling suddenly more at ease with him than she ever would have dreamed possible. The last vestiges of shame over their previous encounter had vanished with the renewed hunger of his kiss.
    “You’re just a baby, my darling. You don’t know anything about it.” The curve of his mouth was tender as he looked down into her upturned face. Megan was very conscious of the intimate way that he continued to hold her. Against the softness of her breasts she could feel the rocklike fortress of his chest; and the muscles of his good thigh pressed with demanding strength against her own thigh and hip. There was also a pulsating hardness pressing against the yielding flesh of her belly. Its presence could not be accounted for by what little she knew of human anatomy. Puzzled, her hand slid around from his back to touch the odd protuberance. At the tentative brush of her hand against him, Justin sucked in his breath sharply. Megan snatched her hand away, and looked up at him.
    “Did I hurt you?” she asked, puzzled.
    Justin’s ragged laugh sounded more like a groan.
    “No, you didn’t hurt me,” he replied, his mouth twisting wryly.
    “Then what is it?” she demanded, totally bewildered by his odd reaction.
    “You really are a baby, aren’t you?”
    “Are you going to explain or not?” Megan practically stamped her foot. His superior smile was galling.
    “Not.”
    “But why?” Megan’s curiosity was thoroughly aroused. She moved her hand against him again, this time tracing a finger over the bulge through the soft cloth of his pantaloons. It was iron-hard and seemed to be pulsating with heat, and extended at a slant from just above his thighs to almost as high as his waist. Justin groaned at her action, and his hand flew to capture hers in an unbreakable grip, holding her hand away from him.
    “Don’t do that,” he told her, his voice thick.
    “But what is it?” Megan persisted, thoroughly mystified. She stepped back a pace and looked down at the object in question. She could clearly see the cylindrical object straining against the buff-colored material of his pantaloons.
    “If you’re not careful, I may show you,” Justin threatened, sounding suddenly hoarse. But there was a wry tenderness in his face as well as he looked down into her