He released her a moment and looked up at her face. She was still sleeping, doubtless an erotic dream, he thought, delighted. He set himself back to his pleasurable work. He cupped a breast, feeling its weight in his hand, and barely managed to stifle a groan. No man had ever touched her breasts, caressed them.
Soon he wanted more. He glanced down at the length of her at the nightgown and knew there was no hope for it. Slowly, he eased it up to her waist.
He sucked in his breath. Long white legs, elegantly slender, but his attention was quickly on the rich dark-blond curls between her thighs, and the flat belly above. He groaned, unable to help himself, his manhood throbbing and painfully hard. He laid his hand over her and felt the heat of her woman's flesh. He closed his eyes a moment, his fingers seeing for him.
It was her own moan that awoke her. Diana blinked, expecting darkness and seeing the cascading moonlight from the porthole. She felt nearly frantic, and frowned, but just for an instant. Then she felt his hot mouth touching her, his fingers searching her, and lurched upward.
"Lyon!"
"Hush," he said, not raising his head. His tongue found her then and she felt as though she were a quiescent ember being brought to flame.
The intense feelings were swamping her, spinning her mind out of control, pushing her body to respond, but she knew this wasn't right, it wasn'tShe moaned, then suddenly came to her senses, what few there were left.
"No, damn you!" She jerked away, smashing her fist against his naked shoulder. "No!"
"Very well, if that's the way you want it. But you did offer, just remember that!" Lyon came up to his knees, jerked her legs apart, and flung himself down over her.
She felt his manhood against her, pushing, seeking. His weight held her down. She felt his mouth against her cheek, then against her mouth.
"Please, Lyon," she gasped against his open mouth.
"The invitation was yours, my pet," he said. "Don't fight me, Diana." He forced her legs wider and she felt his fingers stroke down her belly, caressing her until he found her. She felt his fingertip enter her body and felt her own dampness. She shuddered. She felt his fingers opening her, then his manhood slowly entering her body.
She began fighting him in earnest, but she couldn't dislodge him. His breathing was ragged and he looked down at her as he pressed forward, slowly, very slowly.
"Lyon, please."
"Are you begging me? You did want me inside you, didn't you, Diana? I won't hurt youslowly, you're opening for me. Feel me, Diana, I'm inside you."
Suddenly there was a loud banging on the cabin door. Lyon froze over her.
"Lyon! Diana! Quickly, dress yourselves!"
It was Rollo's voice, harsh and commanding.
He wanted to yell, yet he couldn't move, his body stunned with the feel of her. He felt himself pressing against her maidenhead. Just a bit longer, a bit further.
"Now! We're going to be attacked!"
Lyon jerked out of her and came to his feet. He was breathing hard, long, painful breaths.
Attacked! What the devil did that mean? No, it was Diana who was under attack. Lyon shook his head and automatically reached for his britches.
"Hurry!" Rollo shouted.
"Get your clothes on, Diana."
She scrambled to her feet, threw off her rumpled nightgown, and grabbed for her underthings.
Lyon shouted, "We're coming, Rollo!"
They heard his pounding footsteps retreat. They became aware of the sound of dozens of running feet overhead.
"My God, what the devil is going on?"
There was no answer to his question. He was pulling on his boots, forcing himself to calm.
Diana wasn't thinking at all. She couldn't bear to. She didn't bother with her petticoat, just jerked her gown over her chemise.