Page 65 of Hidden Fires

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“Jared, I—”

“Leave me, please,” he repeated with a groan.

“Why? Why must I leave you… now?” She was on the verge of tears. Her emotions were running so high, her voice cracked under the pressure.

“Because, dammit,” he swore vehemently, “I can’t stand having you this close, this willing, this… naked… and not… Just go back to your room, please.”

“No, Jared,” she breathed.

He looked up then. “No?”

She swallowed hard. “I… I want to be a real wife to you, Jared.” She couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “I want to stay with you.”

“Lauren,” he said, shaking his head. His voice was sympathetic, like an adult speaking to a child. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I realize that! I don’t know anything about… this. But I want to know. I want to be a wife like Gloria is to Rudy. Like Maria was to Ben.” Neither of them noticed the incongruity of that statement. “Please let me stay with you tonight.”

He looked at her. Tears were rolling down her flawless cheeks, her hair was tumbling over her shoulders onto the breasts he longed to caress again, her slim figure was outlined under the sheer nightgown, and the pounding of his heart thundered through his head. His body was on fire with desire for her, and his manhood stood proudly, painfully.

He didn’t dare move when she raised one knee onto the bed and sat down close to him. She leaned forward and, resting timid hands on his shoulders, placed her lips against his.

He moaned in helplessness as he clasped her to him and fell back against the pillows on the wide bed. Drawing her beneath him, he kissed her with a searing fervor, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and exploring it with unleashed passion.

Frantically he fumbled with the buttons of her nightgown. Lauren didn’t have time to be embarrassed by her nakedness as he flung the offending garment over her head, and quickly covered her body with his.

Difficult as it was, he forced himself to practice self-control. This wasn’t a whore. This was Lauren. His wife. He must go slowly, mustn’t frighten her.

Lauren felt the long, hard body against hers relax somewhat as Jared kissed her again, leisurely this time, as if memorizing her lips and tongue and teeth. He traced kisses over her cheeks, and nibbled at her earlobe until she felt her own body turning languorous and pliant beneath him.

One large, tanned hand moved over the tops of her breasts. He cupped one gently. Her nipple became hard as the palm moved in slow, easy circles over it. He took the swollen bud between his fingers and caressed it tenderly until Lauren wanted to cry out from the pleasure he brought her, pleasure she had never known existed.

Then he enfolded her nipple in his wet, warm mouth, and drew on her with exquisite tenderness. As he moved to the other breast, his beard stubble scraped against her smoothness, heightening her awareness of their physical differences. He gave the same attention to her other breast as his hands moved to her abdomen, stroking, caressing, arousing.

It was a sensation like warm liquid being poured over her as he lowered his head and kissed her navel with an ardent, hungry mouth. His palm rested lightly on the tight nest of raven curls at the top of her legs and she wondered why she wasn’t repulsed or afraid. The feelings were so… what? She had nothing to compare this to.

His hand moved between her thighs, and Lauren was alarmed when he encountered a moistness. Apparently he found that strange wetness gratifying. He sighed and whispered, “God, Lauren, you’re ready for me. Oh how sweet you are.” The movement of Jared’s hand then took away all conscious thought. The delicious explorations of his fingers released a primitive instinct and she rotated her hips against his powerful body. When I think of this later, I’ll be so ashamed, she thought, but now, I can’t help it.

He was kissing her mouth again, tenderly, deeply, murmuring against her lips a mixture of English and Spanish. He moved on top of her and she welcomed the crushing weight by wrapping her arms around the breadth of his back. His knees gently urged her thighs apart as he settled himself between them. She felt his masculine strength as he probed the opening of her body.

A flash of panic seized her, and he was instantly aware of it. He raised his head and looked into her wide, fearful eyes, searching for the answer he hoped was there. “It’s true then? You’ve never been with a man?” His inflection was one of awe and carried with it a need to know. And she knew why her reply would be so important to him. Ben. She didn’t speak, but her lips formed the word no as she shook her head. “Lauren.” Every trace of emotion that made up the spirit of Jared Lockett went into that speaking of her name. He kissed her quickly, hotly, passionately. Then he beseeched her, “Forgive me. I’m going to hurt you, Lauren. I’m sorry.” He thrust himself inside her and she would have screamed if he hadn’t held her head protectively against the hollow of his shoulder.

The burning pain was ripping her apart, searing her insides. “I’m sorry, my darling. Relax as much as you can.”

The words were husky against her ear, and she forced muscles she didn’t know she had to relax into acceptance. The pain abated, but how long did this last?

Jared hadn’t moved. She heard his breath rushing in her ear like a strong wind. She shifted under him, seeking a more comfortable position, and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Oh, God, you feel so good,” he ground out, pressing his face into the pillow. “So tight. Perfect, perfect.”

Slowly he began to move inside her. The pain came back in rhythmic waves to match his thrusts, but somewhere amidst the pain was a promise of pleasure. Jared’s murmurings in her ear were indiscernible, but their meaning was clear.

Jared was inside her! It was a thrilling thought—his body and hers fused together in the most intimate and unifying way. Without her knowing it, her body had taken control and she was responding to his thrusts with answering movements. Suddenly his whole body tensed and she felt a shower of life flowing into her. Instinctively she squeezed her knees against his hips.

He lay spent on top of her until his breathing returned to normal. She ran her hands over his broad back, marveling at the contour of muscles, bone, and skin. Eventually he raised himself onto his elbows and looked into her eyes.

“My God, Lauren,” he whispered in wonder. “What did you do to me?”

He rolled off her and drew her to him, nestling her against his chest. They lay for a long while without speaking. His hands traveled lazily over her back, hips, and legs. The place between her thighs was still on fire, but she was content. She sighed. Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her face to him.

“My little virgin. Did it hurt too much?”


Tags: Sandra Brown Historical