Promise Me Forever Page 9

  Her embarrassment fled, draining from her as her eyes met his. She suddenly felt so bold, very much like the vixen he professed her to be. She was glad she'd put on the negligee, ever so glad Drew had the consideration to even think of it.

  His fingers continued to stroke her thigh, bringing her skin to life with a series of tingling crackles. He brushed a sensitive spot just behind her knee and she shivered, a breathless laugh bubbling to her lips.

  Heather did a little exploring of her own, letting her hands skim up his back. His shoulders, his back, were as smooth as polished granite, and just as solid. There was very little give beneath her fingertips as she pressed into the firm flesh, against the tightly woven sinew of his body. It was almost impossible to discern flesh from bone, he was so solidly built.

  He didn't seem to mind her perusal, her roaming hands. Instead, he went still against her, nuzzling her and sighing softly as she, too, brushed sensitive areas. A patch between his shoulder blades, one below his buttocks, and still another along his neck—each caress of those areas sent him shuddering against her, sucking in his breath and laughing softly into her ear. Her lips roamed as much as her hands did. She was in no hurry as she nibbled at his ear, along the rough stubble of his neck, down one shoulder. Taking her cue from him, she did a little tasting of her own, her tongue caressing with the same curiosity as her lips, and a smile playing at her lips with each successive groan rising in his throat.

  Drew grasped the tie on her right side and tugged. As the silk parted, he eased his hand between the two panels, his long fingers inching their way towards her breast. His hand covered her breast, practically swallowing it, but his fingers were gentle as they grazed her nipple, which beaded almost instantly and she shivered once more.

  A burst of tingles rushed through her, starting from the nipple he caressed, radiating outward. They grew stronger with each pass of his thumb as it slowly circled about that sensitive nub. She could feel a tightness starting deep in the pit of her belly, where it swelled into a dull, heavy ache within her core. It was all so new to her, this strange ache inside. New and powerful, threatening to devour her entirely. She knew there was no going back, it was no longer even an option. Drew awoke something she hadn't even known existed and she knew that only he could soothe that blasted ache.

  He pushed the silk away from her, his dark head dipping down as his lips replaced his hand. The moist heat from his tongue sent a shockwave blasting through her. Her back arched at the sensations swirling through her like wildfire. A soft cry bubbled to her lips as she tugged at his hair, releasing it just as suddenly for fear she was hurting him.

  He lifted his head long enough to whisper huskily, “Don't worry, love ... it will take more than a little hair pulling to dampen my ardor."

  She couldn't hold back her breathless laugh, though she did ease her hold on him. Returning his attentions to her breast, he didn't seem to notice when her fingers twisted in his hair once more. It appeared he was far too intent on teasing first one nipple, then the other, with his tongue.

  Heather gave herself up to the whirling sensations he brought to life with his fingers, his lips, and his tongue. She loved what he was doing, never wanted him to stop his sensuous torture of her flesh. She ached to touch him as he touched her. It seemed so terribly brazen, but the need was there. A need she had no choice but to satisfy. Tentatively, she reached out, resting her hand against the solid rise of his chest. His skin felt so hot, she actually glanced down to see if her hand was burning.

  Feeling a bit braver, she slid her hand down over that solid muscle, through the crisp mat of black hair, to the flat, hard plane of his belly. Her fingers brushed over his hipbone and she froze, ever mindful of that powerful part of him only a few inches from her hand. Did she dare?

  She wished she had the courage to continue her exploration. She wanted to let her fingers roam over him, the way his did over her. She wanted to make him feel even some of the sensations he sent whirling through her.

  But would that be too forward? Too improper? The image of him naked leaped into her mind, but she felt no fear of him now. All that remained was that blasted curiosity. Did she dare touch him?

  Drew groaned softly at the fluttery caress, shivering against her again, only harder this time. She froze, wondering if, perhaps, she was doing something she oughtn't.

  His next groan was clearly in protest and he lifted his head to murmur, “Heather?"

  "I'm sorry,” she whispered, her face growing hot. “I didn't mean to be so forward."

  He chuckled softly, kissing her fully on the lips. “Don't ever be sorry, love. Don't ever worry about being forward or brazen. It's quite all right. Touch me however you wish, Heather. Please, feel free. In fact, I insist upon it."

  His husky whisper sent a shudder through her. Her courage rose and her fingers began moving over his belly again, but halted at the fastenings of his trousers. She simply could not make herself loosen them. Her fingers refused to obey.

  Drew gave her another smile. Pulling away, he stripped off his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. He stretched out beside her once more, his fingers closing about her wrist as he guided her hand to him. She jumped at that first touch, at his sharp inhale. But he refused to release her hand. His eyes closed as her fingers brushed him and his sigh was nearly transparent in its breathiness, “Heather..."

  That feeling of headiness swarmed over her as he growled softly in the back of his throat. Her courage grew, her curiosity replacing her fear and making her bolder still. His groans had become shuddery sighs when he suddenly reached down to snatch her hand away from him.

  Going still, she swallowed hard. “I'm sorry..."

  "No,” he breathed, shaking his head. “You've done nothing to be sorry for, love.” He kissed her deeply, his tongue plunging between her lips to devour hers.

  He eased one hand between her thighs, which parted of their own and she couldn't hold back her gasp as he caressed her most sensitive flesh. Heat spiraled through her, her limbs buttery as the fever claimed her. The tingles were back now, coursing through her with fiery intensity. It began as he gently thrust one finger inside her—a wicked fire sweeping through her from that most sensitive spot he expertly teased. The tension was an almost unbearable mix of pleasure and ache, a strong coil of need clenching tightly deep inside her. She wanted to cry out at the sheer bliss of it, but was afraid he would think he was hurting her.

  Hurting her? Hardly. It was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt—that slow, sensual stroking. Her toes curled as the flames swept up to the center of her being, engulfing her in a growing wave of pure, sweet pleasure. Her fingers twisted in his hair again, grabbing a handful of it, practically yanking it from his head. Her breathing was ragged and heavy as nerve after nerve fired in rapid succession throughout her entire body. That fire threatened to consume her if Drew did not do something about the raging inferno he'd ignited.

  Just as she thought she might burst into actual flames, his hand moved. She let out a small mewl of protest. He chuckled softly, whispering, “Patience, love. Patience. We have all night and I wish to make certain you are ready for me."

  She opened her eyes as she whispered, “I do believe I am, Drew."

  He groaned as he moved back up, settling between her hips, gently nudging her legs apart to accommodate him. She shuddered involuntarily as he brushed up against her, up against that now all-too-sensitive part of her body. Drew smiled down at her as he held himself above her, leaning over to kiss her again. “Are you ready, then?"

  Am I ever, she thought feverishly. But she couldn't vocalize the words, so she nodded instead.

  He began his entry slowly and she groaned softly, her fingernails sinking into his shoulders at his thickness filling her. She could not believe the ripples of pleasure shooting through her with the slightest movement. That fullness inside her snatched the breath from her lungs.

  He hesitated for a moment and then thrust. Capturing her lips with his,
he swallowed her brief cry of pain as he burst through her maidenhead. The pain was mercifully short-lived, a brief twinge quickly replaced by a sense of wonder as he went still. She could feel him, could feel the ebbing of the original spasm, but he'd stopped moving and she couldn't help but wonder why. It seemed to her there should be more to it than this. Of course, there was that fullness still so deep inside her and she knew she had to address that, as the shockwaves were still pulsing through her.

  "Drew?” she whispered.

  He lifted his head, breathing heavily as he gazed at her with smoky, deep indigo eyes. “Yes?"

  "Is that it?"

  He smiled. “Hardly, love.” With that, he began thrusting with almost lazy strokes. Pleasure—the most delicious pleasure she'd ever felt—built. It swirled about, eddying until her head spun with the pure sweetness of it.

  That ache deep within her began to grow and tighten as she felt him moving inside her. The tingles swelled up, bursting to shoot through her with the heat of a thousand suns and rendering her incapable of holding back her soft cry. As he lowered himself against her, her lips along his neck, over his shoulder. She sought out, and found, the sensitive spots on his body, discovering what places brought forth a sigh, a shiver, and what made him thrust harder into her.

  It felt so wonderful, those driving thrusts, each one so different from the last. When she gently flicked her tongue over his nipple, he responded with a deep growl. Then, increasing his pace, he gathered her close, driving to her depths with a passion that left her head spinning and her body fighting for air.

  Then she felt it. A wave of fiery sensation blooming, taking on a life of its own as it crested and then broke to flood her body with wave after wave of incredible, sweet pleasure Her back arched, instinct taking over and her hips rising sharply in time to meet him. It was amazing, that explosion he created deep inside her, rendering her senseless with the glorious flash of her first climax.

  He caught her lips in a deep kiss, swallowing her cry of delight as she erupted all around him. She wrapped herself around him, her legs grasping him and holding him as close as possible. He arched into her, fighting for air as he gave one last powerful thrust before finally collapsing against her. He buried his face in her neck, his voice ragged as he groaned, “Oh, God ... oh, God..."

  Unexpected tears pricked her eyes as he sunk into her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, feeling as though she'd just discovered something rare and wonderful, as if she'd just given Drew a gift. A very special part of herself. She sniffed, and he lifted his head.

  His eyes were tender as he whispered, “Are you crying?"

  Another sniff. “No."

  He leaned close to kiss her cheek, murmuring, “Try again, love. Did I hurt you?"

  "No—well—a bit ... at first, perhaps."

  "Then why are you crying?"

  "I don't know."

  He shifted to lie beside her, gathering her in his arms. “You are all right otherwise?"

  She let out a sigh as that fullness inside her disappeared, but she felt wonderful just the same. Her tears were not those of sadness, she wanted to tell him. But she could think of no way to say what she was feeling without sounding silly. She gazed up at him. “I am fine, Drew. Really."

  She sighed softly, as he held her tight. It felt so wonderful to be cradled in his arms. She lay there for a long time, simply enjoying the feel of him all around her. His fingers trailed lightly up and down her arm, brushing the outer curve of her breast. He then pulled her against him, rolling to pin her beneath him once more. She didn't resist as his lips claimed hers. Instead, she surrendered fully, feeling no fear as she let him lead her down the path of sinfully sensual delight once more.

  Twelve

  The next morning, when Heather awoke, she was alone. She yawned and stretched, smiling as her eyes fell on the blue negligee. It was on the floor beside the bed, where it had landed when Drew had whisked it from her body the night before.

  She pulled the sheet up to her chin, snuggling into it as she thought about what had happened the previous evening. She felt like a new person, as if she had been reborn. She also felt a bit odd, not at all certain she would now be able to look Drew in the eye after the passion that had raged between them. She knew she would never be able to look at him in the same way again. Not after sharing the most beautiful night of her life with him.

  But would he look at her differently now? Would everything change now that she was no longer a mystery to him? She hoped not. She wanted to share her sense of awe with him, her sense of being a part of something so much greater than herself.

  But then she remembered. This was not something new for him. He was no stranger to a woman's bed or the pleasures to be found there. A slight pall settled over her, sapping some of the happiness she'd been feeling. The thought of sharing him in that way did not sit well with her. She didn't want to think of the others he'd known before her.

  The cabin was chilly, so she tugged the sheet with her as she rose from the bed, dragging it across the floor as she moved around to her trunk. When she found what she sought, she dropped the sheet and donned a clean chemise and the first gown she could find—a soft muslin in robin's egg blue.

  "I really must thank Drew for insisting I return to Madam Cartwright's that second time,” she mused, draping the wrinkled sheet over her arm and moving to return it to the bed.

  As she approached the bed, her eyes fell to a dark splotch on the bottom sheet. Frowning, she leaned closer, her stomach lurching when she realized she was seeing blood. Her blood. The proof of her innocence.

  "Oh, my,” she whispered as she realized exactly what she had done, what had happened between them. Her knees wobbled as the enormity of that one event seeped into her. Most of her life, she knew that her virginity was integral to her ever making a successful marriage—or any marriage for that matter. It was something she carried with her, even through those dark days at Madam Allison's, when she had no other choice. She was ruined now, would forever be relegated to the status of mistress, should she return to London.

  She pushed the thought from her mind as she tossed the sheet onto the bed, covering the streaks. It didn't help. She knew she'd crossed that bridge and there was no returning to the other side. Still, she didn't regret it. Not one bit. It was merely the impact hitting her for the first time.

  "Ah, you're awake."

  Heather spun about to see Drew standing in the doorway. As she'd suspected would happen, heat flooded her face and she had a most difficult time making eye contact with him as she remembered the feel of his hands on her body, the way his lips caressed hers, the feel of his—

  A sudden shyness surged through her as she tried to force those thoughts from her mind. Her eyes fell to the floor as she murmured, “Yes. I'm awake."

  He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the cabin. “Feeling a bit odd this morning, love?"

  "How did you guess?"

  His laughter was soft and teasing. “Just a hunch.” Floorboards creaked as he took another step. “Heather, if you just look at me, that awkwardness just might go away. I haven't grown another head, or a third eye, you realize."

  She knew he was trying to put her at ease, but wasn't as confident that she'd be able to look at him. It took some effort, but she managed to pry her eyes from the floorboards and lift her head to meet his amused look.

  He cocked his head slightly. “Well? Do I still look the same as I did yesterday?"

  She couldn't help but laugh then. He was the same as he'd been the day before. He was still charming, still handsome. It was she who had changed, not him.

  "Still feeling shy, are you?” he asked, his voice playful.

  "Perhaps a bit."

  "There's no reason to feel that way. Certainly understandable, but unnecessary.” He closed the gap between them, reaching out to lift a curl from her shoulder, his eyes still holding hers. “Are you hungry?"

  Food had been the furthest thing from her mind u
ntil he mentioned it. Then her stomach rumbled, loudly enough for Drew to hear as well.

  He grinned. “I'll take that as a yes."

  "I'm afraid I've been caught. Though, I must admit, I am a bit hungry,” she said with a smile.

  "So I hear. Well, I've already taken the liberty of asking Nick to bring us breakfast."

  "You mean, you've not eaten yet? How long have you been awake?"

  "I'm usually up with the sun, even when I deserve to sleep in.” He gave her a devilish grin, shaking his head as a fresh blush stained her cheeks. “As for not eating, I thought I'd make the sacrifice and share your morning meal with you, especially since you woke up alone this morning.” He released the curl to touch her face lightly, murmuring, “You should not have been alone this morning, love."

  She shook her head. “It wasn't a problem. I did not expect you to be here. You've a ship to captain."

  "A twenty-four hour a day job, I'm afraid,” he sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. “Makes me look forward to returning to Brunswick. I deserve a long rest."

  "Have you a house there?"

  "Not yet. I've been in Europe for the last year. Before that, I was overseeing short runs to the West Indies. I was back and forth so often that it made no sense to keep a house of my own. I stay at Shadowbrook when I'm in Brunswick. Of course, I may not be so welcome there when I show my face."

  She knew the reason why his family would not be happy to see him when he'd been gone so long. She pressed her lips together, looking over his shoulder at the opened window. “Really, now?"

  He gave her a long, level look, suggesting she was jumping to conclusions. “It has nothing to do with you, Heather. Nothing to do with you at all, actually."

  Despite his assurance to the contrary, she couldn't help but raise her brows at him. “How can that be?"

  "Because, my lady, I did have a life before you came into it,” he replied gently “This concerns something that happened before I left America, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you."