He turned her; Patience blinked at the fountain, pearly white in the moonlight, blinked at the barely robed maiden steadily filling the bowl. She felt Vane behind her, hot, solid-aroused. He bent his head; his lips grazed the side of her throat. Patience sank back against him, angling her head back, encouraging his caresses. She let her hands drop to her sides, to his thighs, hard as oak behind her. Spreading her fingers, she gripped the long, tensed muscles-and felt them harden even more.
He reached around her; she waited to feel his hands close about her breasts, to feel him fill his hands with her bounty.
Instead, with just the very tips of his fingers, he traced the swollen curves, circled the aching peaks. Patience shuddered-and sank deeper against him. His hands left her; she felt him reach out. She forced her eyes open. From under weighted lids, she watched as, with one hand, he traced the bare breast of the maiden, lovingly caressing the cool stone.
Leaving the maiden, his fingers traileH lightly in the clear water in the marble bowl. Then he raised the same fingers to her heated flesh-and touched her as he'd touched the maiden-delicately, evocatively. Enticingly.
Patience closed her eyes-and shivered. His fingers, cool, wet, trailed and traced-exquisite sensation lanced through her. Pressing her head back against his shoulder, she bit her lip against a moan, and flexed her fingers on his thighs.
And managed to gasp: "This is…"
"Meant to be."
After a moment, she licked her parched lips. "How?"
She sensed the change in him, the surge of passion he immediately leashed. Her flaring response, the urgent need to have him take her, completely and utterly, and give himself in the same way, stole her breath.
"Trust me." He reached around her again, moving closer; his strength flowed around her, surrounded her. His hands closed about her breasts, no longer delicately teasing but hungry. He filled his hands and kneaded; Patience felt the flames rise-in him, in her.
"Just do what I tell you. And don't think."
Patience mentally groaned. How? What…? "Just remember my dress."
"I'm an expert, remember? Grasp the rim of the bowl with both hands."
Bemused, Patience did. Vane shifted behind her; the next instant, her skirts, then her petticoats, were flipped up, over her waist. Cool air washed over the backs of her thighs, over her bottom, exposed to the moonlight.
She blushed hotly-and opened her mouth on a protest.
The next second, she forgot about protest, forgot about everything, as long, knowing fingers slid between her thighs.
Unerringly, he found her, already slick and swollen. He traced, and tantalized, teased and caressed, then evocatively probed her.
Eyes closed, Patience bit her lip against a moan. He reached deep, stroking into her softness; she gasped, and gripped the marble bowl more tightly.
Then he reached around her, one large palm sliding under her dress and petticoats, gliding over her hip to splay possessively over her naked stomach. The hand shifted, fingers searching boldly through her curls. Until one found and settled against her most sensitive spot.
She couldn't find enough breath to gasp-let alone moan or scream. Patience desperately drew air into her lungs, and felt him behind her. Felt the hot hard length of him press between her thighs. Felt the wide head nudge into her softness and find her entrance.
Slowly, he sank into her, easing her hips back, then holding her steady, bracing her as he slid fully home. And filled her.
Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew-and returned, pressing so deeply she rose on her toes.
Her gasp hung like shimmering silver in the moonlight, eloquent testimony to her state.
Again and again, with the same relentlessly restrained force, he filled her. Thrilled her. Loved her.
The hand at her belly didn't shift, but simply held her steady so she could receive him, could feel, again and again, his possession, the slow repetitive penetration impinging on her mind as well as her body, on her emotions as well as her senses.
She was his and she knew it. She gave herself gladly, received him joyfully, obediently struggled to hold back her moans as he shifted and sank deeper.
Tucking her bottom firmly against his hips, he moved more forcefully within her, thrusting more deeply, more powerfully.
The tension-within him, within her, holding them so tightly-grew, swelled, coiled. Patience swallowed a gasp- and clung to sanity. And prayed for release while dazedly wondering if this time she really would lose her mind.
Again and again he filled her. The golden glimmer she now knew and desired glowed on her horizon. She tried to reach for it-to draw it nearer-tried to tighten about him and urge him on.
And suddenly realized that, in this position, her options were limited. *