His laughter startled him. How did she always manage to do this, amuse and exasperate at the same time?
"Honor has nothing to do with my anger, sweetheart. I want to be in your bed every night. Sometimes I lie awake for hours aching to hold you. Without marriage, I don't have the right."
She kissed the side of his cheek, near his ear, and whispered, "You are holding me now."
Yes, he was. Their discussion of marriage could wait until afterward. His body would not be denied another moment. Evidently hers would not be either, because she slipped her hands between them to undo the buttons on his pants. Her fingers rubbed against him as she worked the buttons and he groaned, sounding like a man in purgatory.
Which he would be until he could be ensconced in the haven of her body. "Hurry, sweetheart. I cannot wait much longer."
"I can't either."
Finally he was free. She circled him with her fingers and squeezed. He let out a feral shout and almost tumbled them both off the small sofa.
Stroking him up and down, Thea gave him a mischievous smile. "I believe you were in the process of groveling, were you not?"
He brought one hand around and slipped his finger into the dewy curls at the apex of her thighs.
Rubbing the swollen nub he found there, he said, "Please."
She arched into his hand and gave a muffled cry against his shoulder. He continued touching her while she writhed against him, her breath labored and uneven. He took her silence for acquiescence and tried to tip her back onto the sofa. She resisted, pushing against his chest to keep him in place.
Did she want him to beg some more?
But the look in her eye was not one of teasing. She looked like she was trying to work something out. He held his breath. If she were coming up with valid reasons not to make love, he was doomed.
Keeping his manhood in one hand, she slipped forward until his tip pressed against the opening to her feminine center. He could not believe what was happening. Was his innocent Thea planning to ride him?
From the look of concentration on her face, he had to assume she was.
She smiled. "It will work like this, won't it?"
He nodded, his tongue frozen in his mouth.
She let go of his shaft and he could not help surging upward and into her.
Her eyes went wide as her tight passage stretched to accommodate his hardness. "You feel bigger than I remember."
He forced himself to remain motionless. "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head. "No. It feels…" Her voice trailed off and she moved experimentally against him. "It feels wonderful."
Sweat trickled down his temples. "Yes, it does."
She rocked against him, increasing her rhythm and the breadth of her movements until the pleasure began to build at the base of his hard flesh. He pressed against her back so that as she came forward with each thrust, her sweetest spot rubbed against his pelvic bone.
She sucked in her breath, her eyes closing and her head falling back. "Oh."
He lowered his head to her breast and teased the swollen peak with his mouth. Her fingers locked in his hair, their grip frantic. He welcomed the small pain, not knowing how long he could hold out, but determined she find her completion first.
"Pierson. Oh, Pierson. Oh, Pierson." She chanted his name as her rhythm increased to a frenzied level.
"That's it." He looked up from her breast, and his breath caught in his throat at the look of rapture on her face. "Yes, just like that. Let go, Thea. I want to feel you lose control."
She did, her entire body convulsing. Her feminine muscles clenched around his hard member until he felt his own release as inevitable as daybreak well up in him. He thrust against her, once, twice, a third time. She shuddered anew with each thrust, and when he shot himself inside her, tears pooled in her eyes.
"I can feel the warmth of you filling me."
"You are mine." He thrust against her again and felt himself drained dry by her sweetness. "Do you understand? I am not just in you. I am part of you."