No Greater Love (26 page)

“I feel the same way,” she said softly, her hand still on his chest.

“Yes, I know. I have not been oblivious of your reaction. But what you don’t know is that kissing is just a pleasant prelude to lovemaking. It only gets better, sweetheart, and more passionate, and when you reach the actual act itself, the pleasure is so intense that it can be almost unbearably good—for both the man and the woman.”

“No,” she said. “That I do not believe.”

“Believe it. It’s absolutely true. But like kissing, lovemaking can either be done very well or very poorly. When it is done very poorly, as in the case of Baggie, then it has exactly the opposite effect. And here ends the first lesson.”

“But you can’t end there, Nicholas.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t understand.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s the sort of thing that needs to be demonstrated. But you have to want to have it demonstrated—that’s the key to the whole thing.”

“Oh,” she said. “But what would ever make you want to have it demonstrated?”

“That’s where passion comes into it. Now, come over here, and let’s go to sleep.” He reached out for her and pulled her to him before she could object.

His arms went comfortably around her, and she found that her breasts were pressed against the smooth skin of his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart, and it was still pounding. His hands slowly stroked her back, and as she relaxed into his embrace, she found that she enjoyed the touch of his hands on her bare skin. And the feel of his hot chest against her breasts. She was amazed that it felt so nice, and she slipped her arm over his lean waist and moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Nicholas rolled slightly onto his back and kissed the top of her head.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he said softly.

“Good night, Nicholas,” she said, wondering why she felt disappointed and empty.

She settled down to sleep, but she couldn’t help thinking about everything he had said about passion and pleasure. She knew how it felt to be kissed by him, and how it felt to be held by him. She also knew how it felt to hold him, and how many times she had been seized with the desire to run her hands over his body, that beautiful male combination of grace and strength, solid muscle under smooth skin, slight hollows and flat planes and hard curves just waiting to be touched. The thought made the strange ache start inside again, and she shifted against him, drinking in his now-familiar scent.

He was gentle, so gentle with her, consciously restraining all that power, and yet she remembered his crushing her against him, his mouth taking hers in a desperate grip, and she knew that he was capable of unleashing his power when he chose. How would it be when he took her? She could not compare him to Baggie, she knew, for they were as opposite as night and day. It would be like equating Nicholas’ sharp intelligence to Baggie’s dull brain, like comparing Nicholas’ refinement to Baggie’s coarseness, Nicholas’ tall, beautiful form to Baggie’s stumpiness. No, he surely couldn’t take her in the fashion Baggie had. And yet she was still terribly afraid.

But she found that beneath her fear, curiosity burned. Everything Nicholas had said led her to think that she might, in fact, be mistaken, that she was ignorant. And he had promised he would not hurt her, just as she had promised to trust him.

Ten minutes later she sat up, the sheet clutched to her chest.

“Nicholas?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

She looked down at him to find him watching her steadily, his eyes undecipherable, his expression neutral.

“Nicholas,” she said carefully. “I have been thinking.”

“Good,” he said, casually lacing his hands behind his head. “And?”

“And I think I…” She swallowed, then summoned up her bravery. “I think I would like you to demonstrate it to me.”

“That took even less time than I thought it would,” he said with a slight smile. “But plant a seed in fertile soil…”

“Nicholas, did you understand me? What I meant?”

“Perfectly.”

“Then why are you just lying there as if I’d said nothing of any significance?” She wanted very much to throw something at him, but she was too intent on clutching the sheet. “I don’t understand you in the least!”

“Have you gone so quickly from reluctance to impatience?” he asked, his smile curving up at the sides.

“It is just that I think we should get it over and done with. And there is no need to be so blithe about it. I will lose my nerve in another moment.”

“Georgia,” he said, pushing himself up on his elbow. “Listen to me. This is not exactly the sort of thing that you get over and done with, like an unpleasant chore. It is meant to be enjoyed.”

“So you said, and I still find that very hard to believe,” she said, unwilling to admit to the paralyzing terror that had begun to clutch at her stomach again.

“I am sure you do. But you shall see.” He lay back down again.

“Nicholas … Nicholas! You are making this very difficult.”

“Am I, love? How is that?”

“Because I do not know what it is I am meant to do! This is not how it ever happened before, although I know that Baggie was just a simple farmer and didn’t know much about anything. But he was the one who would come and … well, I told you. Oh, for once I wish I had Binkley to instruct me in the correct behavior. I’m sure he would tell me exactly how a proper lady would go about matters.”

Nicholas burst into laughter. “I think that is where Binkley would draw a very firm line. I can just see his face now if you asked him. And I certainly do not want to make love to a proper lady.”

“Then what you do want, Nicholas? Please tell me, for I am confused.”

“I want to make love to you, Georgia, all of you, just as you are.”

“But, Nicholas, I am serious. I feel very awkward. Here I sit and there you lie, and you do not seem to be doing anything about it. I begin to think you are politely waiting for me to give myself to you. Am I to lie down on my back?”

“Whatever for? I am already on mine. It would be rather silly to have the two of us lying side by side like sausages in a pan.”

She looked at him nervously. “Do you tease me?”

“Never. I never tease.” He smiled and picked up her hand, kissing the palm, then laid it on his chest. “Touch me, Georgia, for it feels uncommonly good.”

She tentatively moved her fingers where he had placed them on the firm muscle. This was something that was familiar, and she relaxed, sliding her hand over his smooth torso, exploring the planes she had just been thinking about. He had regained some of the weight he had lost, but he was still thin, and her fingers caressed the slight indentation under his ribs.

“You feel nice,” she said shyly.

“So do you,” he replied, catching his breath as she trailed her fingers over his nipple and the nub sprang to life as it had the first time she had accidentally touched him. It sent a little thrill through her, to see him react so to her touch, and she became a little bolder. Taking the tip of her finger, she ran it from the patch of hair on his chest down along the silky line to where the sheet covered him at the waist. “I have wanted to do that for so long,” she said on a sigh of satisfaction.

“Oh? And what else have you wanted to do?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have wanted to kiss you just here,” she said, and bent her lips to the exact point where his neck met his ear.

“Mmm,” he said on a long sigh. “That’s not bad at all. I don’t suppose you’ve wanted to kiss my ear? Maybe trace its outline with your tongue? It’s not such a bad ear.”

“No, it’s a lovely ear. I hadn’t thought of it—but I could try.” Adjusting her grip on the sheet, she moved up and did as he had suggested, finding it most interesting, and actually very pleasant, to feel his ear under her mouth. She became absorbed in her task, exploring the crevices with the tip of her tongue, when he turned his head away with a little laugh. “That was extremely nice. But there is my neck, you see. It feels neglected.” He tilted his head back and exposed it for her.

So she bent her head to it and she kissed it, rubbing her mouth up and down, savoring his warm, slightly salty taste, and she couldn’t help herself. Her tongue came out to run over the vein that pulsed just there. And then she moved down to kiss the hollow of his throat, and she ran her tongue over that too.

“Georgia—oh, Georgia—my mouth. You forget my poor mouth,” he said even more hoarsely. “How am I to survive this sensual assault without being kissed as only you can do?”

She smiled and she lowered her mouth to his, brushing his lips as he had taught her, then opened her mouth and shyly touched his tongue With hers. And she became lost in the kiss as he responded, his arms going around her, drawing her down against him, playing havoc with her senses as his tongue tangled with hers in a wild dance.

Nicholas buried his fingers in her hair, then rolled her over onto her side. The sheet began to slide off her chest, and she hastened to adjust it, but he stopped her hand.

“No,” he said, hooking the sheet with his finger and slipping it down even lower, exposing the top of her breasts. “No. You have had your way with me, and now it is my turn.” He kissed her neck, his mouth open and warm, and he traced a line down it and then back to her ear, pulling the lobe into his mouth and nibbling it. Georgia shivered with pleasure.

“Do you see how very nice that is?” he said. “And this too?” and his tongue traced a path directly down her neck, his mouth suckling the skin at the base of her throat. “And this?” He pulled the sheet lower and his warm mouth ran down the side of her breast, his breath burning into her. She tensed.

“Wait, sweetheart, wait,” he murmured. “Relax.” He kissed her throat again, and the underside of her jaw in the same way, and then traveled back to her mouth and tongued the corners until she opened her mouth and gave him entry. Waves of hot pleasure coursed through her as he suckled her tongue as he had her ear and her throat. The hand on her waist moved restlessly, wandering over her hip and back again, his fingers spreading around her back, then traveling up over her ribs. They stroked just under the swell of flesh; then his hand moved up and over, touching her sensitive breast as lightly as a feather.

“Nicholas!” she gasped against his mouth.

“What?” he asked with a lazy smile, his fingers coming to rest on her nipple. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I think I do. I … I was just surprised.”

“Mmm. I can imagine. I doubt very much Baggie paid any attention to your breasts.”

“Yes, he did,” she said stiffly. “He tended to crush them in his hands. It hurt.”

“Oh, Georgia. Georgia, we do have some educating to do.” He impatiently pushed the sheet all the way down to her waist, and she blushed and turned her head away, horribly embarrassed.

“Sweetheart … sweetheart, look at me. Look at me.” He turned her face back to him. “Let me pleasure you. Please. Let me show you how nice it can be.” He bent his head to her breast, and Georgia wanted to scream. Until she felt his mouth gently taking her nipple, nursing on it, his hand cupping her breast, stroking it with his thumb. She could not help herself. Her back arched and she pressed herself closer, her breath quickening until she made little whimpers of excitement in her throat, and Nicholas groaned and bent his head to the other breast, now swollen and aching with excitement.

She took his head in her hands and tangled her fingers in his hair, her hips squirming with delight at the new sensations, pressing against him harder. Her hand came down to his cheek and he stroked it, then touched the corner of his mouth, and she pushed her finger into it, touching his tongue and her damp, throbbing nipple at the same time.

Nicholas’ head shot up and he gave a low laugh as he saw the heated expression in her half-closed eyes. “Little seductress,” he said, his body so quickened by desire that it was hard to speak at all. “You learn quickly. My God, you learn quickly.”

“You are beautiful,” she said shakily. “So beautiful.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “You may call me handsome, or virile, or even magnificent, if you really must. But you may not call me beautiful. That is reserved solely for you.” He molded her breast in his hand, then kissed it again. “And you are gloriously passionate. Do you think you like all this passion, Georgia?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I think I like it very much.”

“Then come closer to me.” He urged her hips toward his.

Georgia twisted around to press herself against him, moving her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, his back, dropping down to the corded muscle of his hip, and he shook with torment. And then the lovely swell of her belly touched his engorged length, and he could feel the soft, moist brush of curl against his thigh. He breathed out a long, jerky sigh. Torment. Sweet, sweet torment. He ached to bury himself in her, and it was everything he could do not to move against her. It was more than he could do, for his hips took over, shifting against her, just a small rub, one very, very nice rub.

Georgia suddenly pulled away.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said, desperate to have her back touching him again. “It’s all right. You’re going to like that part too, I promise.” He knew she would, he was as sure of it as he was that he breathed, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could play cat and mouse, not with this beautiful, fabulously erotic woman in his arms. “Don’t be afraid of me, or that part of me,” he said, trying to sound rational. “When you touch me there, it makes me feel as you do when I touch you like this. Even better.” He brushed his hand back over her nipple and she shivered, and then he ran it down over her waist, spreading his fingers to touch the small of her back. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Nicholas. … I do. Oh, I do.”

“You are so delicate, so soft,” he murmured, lowering his head again to her breast and drawing it into his mouth, breathing on it, pulling on it, teasing it with his lips and tongue until she cried with pleasure and pushed herself up against him. And this time when she felt him against her, she did not pull away. “Oh, God,” he said. “Oh, God. That feels … that feels good.”