Trilby (17 page)

“T
HORN
! Y
OU
…
CAN’T
!”
she gasped.

But he could, and did. He was helplessly driving for satisfaction, blind with need and beyond words. He groaned and his body clenched as he felt the petal-soft envelopment of himself trigger an explosive urgency. He held her under him and pushed blindly, rhythmically, over her until he was able to satisfy his agonizing need of climax.

When he felt it, his mind went completely blank except for a blinding white pleasure that lifted him, arched him, into the cradle of Trilby’s softness.

“Oh…my…God!” His voice shivered reverently.

He held it, only for a second, and collapsed, devastated, onto her.

She wept hotly, because she knew, couldn’t help but know, that he’d achieved paradise. But for her, the climb had been painful and unfulfilling. She felt cold, with the sweat on his chest cold against her breasts in the night air…while his body still throbbed in the aftermath of satisfaction and he gasped for air to breathe. Her secret places hurt, felt as if they’d been torn. He was heavy on her and his body was cold, and there was an uncomfortable wetness…there.

He felt the tears as he turned his head and began to kiss her face with lazy tenderness.

“Please,” she whispered miserably. “Let me go.”

“No, little one,” he murmured gently. “Not yet.”

His lean hand slid up her bare thigh and between their bodies. His mouth slowly found hers, tenderly parting it while his fingers moved down and began to touch open nerves.

She gasped and pushed at him. But even as she feverishly protested the stark intimacy, he touched her body in a way that made it suddenly his. Her fingers curled into his hard arms as the sweet, dark pleasure washed over her body. She gasped again, but this time she didn’t push.

“I know,” he whispered. “It hurt and you’re disappointed. But this time, I promise, it won’t hurt. See how this feels, sweetheart?” he asked huskily, as his hand moved on her and she moaned and shivered. “Isn’t it good, Trilby? Doesn’t it make you want more? And I can give you that….”

Seconds spun into minutes; she began to bite at his mouth, pulsating with the rhythm and the sharp pleasure and the building tension that was magical and hellishly, shamefully, satisfying.

Her fingernails bit into his arms. She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear his breathing. Like hers, it was ragged and quick. She knew that as long as she lived, she’d remember the sound of his breathing mingling with hers while the rain beat down on the thick canvas over them in a tattoo no softer than her whispered cries of pleasure.

“Oh…please, Thorn,” she choked, her voice a thin whimper as she writhed against the fabric beneath them. Wanton sensations weakened her, held her at a peak of
tension that was devastating. “Please…please…make me…whole…”

“Soon.” He breathed the word into her mouth. “We mustn’t go too fast. It must be slow and take a long time, so that your body will be ready to accept mine when I take you again.”

The words went through her like ecstasy. She dug her fingers into his back, wanting him. She whispered it into his ear, barely able to get the words out through her thick tongue.

His mouth moved down to her breasts. He nibbled at them, suckled and touched them with his tongue while he pleasured her. It would almost have been enough with the sudden urgency that made her guide his hand in a wanton demand that would shock her afterward. But now it was only important to end the torment and the tension, to get past the barrier that blocked her surrender to pleasure. Only a little…more. A little…more. She shivered suddenly and harsh little cries pulsed out of her throat as the ecstasy overwhelmed her and she went rigid.

At that instant, he went into her, and she saw stars behind her open eyes. There was no pain, no future, no past, only the invasion of this man’s body into hers and the convulsive passion that left her totally at his mercy while he buffeted her welcoming hips until she shuddered and lost consciousness.

He held her for a long time afterward, gently smoothing her hair, her yielded, soft body in his arms while the rain saturated the earth around the tent. He made no move to dress, nor did she. The reality of their loving was too astonishing.

“I…must go back…to my tent, Thorn,” she whimpered. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He kissed away the tears. “You mustn’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You gave me your virginity.” His voice was deep against her ear. “I felt you give it to me, Trilby,” he moaned. “I felt it.”

She gasped. His mouth covered hers, and she wanted him again. It was incredible. Her body was sore, but it demanded. She shivered and pulled at him, her hands urgent as they smoothed with helpless need over his slender flanks.

“No,” he whispered. “No, Trilby. Not again. We dare not. It would hurt you now.”

She sobbed, but he held her and rocked her, cradling her in his arms until she quieted.

“You must marry me,” he said finally. “You realize that, don’t you?”

“Thorn…”

“I may have given you a baby, Trilby,” he whispered into her ear.

Her breathing stopped. She lay in the darkness, in his arms, and tried to imagine how it would feel to bear his child.

She laid her cheek against the hard throb of his hair-matted chest and realized only then just how badly she’d burned her bridges. Yes, there could be a child. And they were not married.

“Oh…oh, dear,” she began unsteadily.

“Trust me,” he whispered roughly. “Stop fighting me. I want you more than my own life. I can give you everything you want, everything you need. Marriage isn’t the end of the world—and now we have no choice,” he said solemnly.

“No choice,” she repeated, sick at heart. Now there was no hope of finding happiness with Richard, even if she had fooled herself into believing he might notice her with Julie around. She could never have Richard now. Thorn had made her into something not quite ladylike. He’d shown her a dark side of herself that shocked her.

Thorn was having his own thoughts. He had Trilby now—
and
access to the water on her father’s land. And with it, he had the most incredibly sensual experience of his life. Imagine feeling like that with a virgin! All his plans had worked themselves out, with no conscious effort on his part. But he’d taken Trilby’s choices away, and she was crying. He didn’t feel very proud of himself.

“Samantha can be your flower girl,” he began. “And if Sissy would like to stay for the wedding, she can be maid of honor. Would you like that?”

She bit her lip with nervous fear. Samantha. Marriage. Babies. But Thorn hadn’t once mentioned love. He’d only said that he wanted her. And like an idiot, she’d let her emotions run away with her. She’d…lain with him!

“It must be soon,” he added quietly. “Very soon.”

She flushed. “Oh…my,” she whispered unsteadily.

He kissed her forehead with breathless tenderness. “Stop trying to sound like a fallen woman. We’re going to be married, Trilby. We made love to each other, but the world isn’t going to end. All right?”

“All right,” she echoed dully. He meant to be comforting, but he wasn’t. She felt like a fallen woman. The things he’d said to her…and she’d said them back! She flushed and scrambled out of his arms to dress.

After a minute, he followed suit. When they were
clothed again, she felt even more ashamed of her lack of principles. He escorted her out of the tent, her arm clasped tightly in his lean hand. He lit a lamp for her and took her to the spare tent they’d fixed for the equipment.

“It will be dry, at least,” he said.

She looked up at him for the first time since they’d been together. He looked different. Younger. More vital. Without the hardness, the stoic expression she’d grown used to. He looked uncomfortable. She grimaced inwardly as she wondered if perhaps he was regretting their abandonment as much as she was. He didn’t look happy, certainly. Perhaps he hadn’t really wanted to marry her. But he was an honorable man, and they’d let their emotions carry them to the point of no return.

He had her promise to marry him, despite what she thought she felt for Richard. Now he was sorry that he hadn’t proposed honorably. She’d always feel trapped. And what if she really did love Richard? He’d have robbed her of any chance for happiness. It had seemed so right. Now it was anything but right. He could have cursed his impetuousness, his selfishness.

“Try not to worry,” he said quietly. “We’ll have a good life together, Trilby. I’ll take care of you and your family. I swear, you’ll have no cause for regret.”

But she would, she thought miserably. Because there was only desire between them. He didn’t love her. And there was still Richard. Even if he’d betrayed her with Julie, he’d been her world for such a long time. She was sick with confused emotions—and guilt and shame.

He read the worry in her face. “Try not to hate me,” he said quietly.

“It was my fault, too, Thorn,” she said hesitantly. She
didn’t know what she felt. She’d been raised to believe that women endured the foul lusts of men only to get children. Now she knew that it was only a myth, that women could have pleasure, too. It shocked her.

His hands contracted around hers as he searched her eyes. “You can’t back out,” he cautioned. “We can’t let our people suffer for our error, if there are consequences.”

“You already have Samantha,” she began, seeing a whole new set of complications developing.

“I won’t mind more than one child,” he said. “I don’t think you will, either. Once this camping trip is over, we must apply for a license and find a minister.”

“Samantha may not like me,” she persisted.

“Samantha adores you. Don’t look for trouble,” he added stiffly. He averted his eyes. It was difficult to face her now, with the passion that had exploded between them abruptly cooled. He’d never touched Sally like that. He’d never once wanted her so badly that he couldn’t stop. But Trilby had almost demanded him. He still tingled from the ecstasy he’d known with her.

“I’ll go in now,” she said shyly. Her body was sore. She felt ashamed. She searched his face and let her eyes stray to his shirt. He hadn’t quite buttoned it all the way, and a goodly part of his broad, hair-roughened chest was visible. She averted her eyes quickly when she realized how it was affecting her to look at him. It disturbed her that she was so receptive to him physically. She’d always thought that she was rather cold. Now she discovered the buried sexuality in her body and was frightened and repelled by it.

“I must go in,” she repeated nervously.

“You’ll be comfortable and dry in here,” he said.
“Sleep well, Trilby. If it helps, I’m sorry I let things go so far.”

He sounded as troubled as she felt, and he looked unapproachable.

“So am I,” she said stiffly. “Good night.”

He nodded curtly and left her without even looking back.

She went into her tent, weary with pleasure and sadness, and closed the flap.

Thorn stood outside for a long moment, wavering. He should never have let it happen. The look on her face was going to haunt him. He’d done nothing but hurt her since the day they’d met. He wished he knew why he reacted as he did to her. His behavior with Trilby was inexplicable. Almost as if he loved her. He scoffed at that. He was growing fanciful in his old age, he thought as he went back to his own tent.

Trilby hardly slept. When morning came, she felt dragged out and guilt-ridden. Julie looked wounded, and Richard was morose and unapproachable. When Julie went toward him, he actually walked away, leaving his pretty cousin in tears.

Julie didn’t know that he’d lost his respect and affection for her in one night. By offering to give in to him, she’d given him the impression that she was any man’s for the taking. And a man of the world, of his social class, certainly didn’t marry a woman who was experienced or easy.

He glanced at Trilby and felt sorry for the way he’d ignored her in Julie’s favor since he’d come out here. Trilby was the kind of girl a man married and cherished. You wouldn’t find her rooting around a man’s tent in the middle of the night asking to be taken. Yes, Trilby was
just his sort, and it wasn’t too late to put things right. Julie could rant and rave if she liked, but no one would pay her much attention. He no longer wanted her. And he didn’t particularly care if she knew it.

When they gathered around the campfire for breakfast, Richard seated himself next to Trilby and addressed himself to caring for her needs.

“I’ve been rotten to you, haven’t I?” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Trilby. I was infatuated with Julie, but I’ve had my eyes opened,” he added, with a vicious glare in Julie’s direction.

Julie flushed and looked away. She’d never dreamed that Richard would react as he had to her impulsive gesture. All she’d meant to do was let Trilby hear them together. And it had been so sweet to kiss him, too. But he’d actually thrown her away once Trilby was past and ordered her out of his tent. Such cheap behavior told him what Julie truly was, he spat at her, and he wanted no part of a hussy.

She’d gone back to the tent she shared with Sissy and cried herself to sleep. At least Sissy didn’t know what was going on. She’d been soundly asleep. But Trilby knew, she had to, and Julie hated the pity in the other girl’s eyes as much as she hated Richard’s sudden attention to her.

Trilby could guess how he’d had his eyes opened, but it wasn’t the sort of thing a woman could say to a man. She directed her attention to her plate and forked scrambled eggs into her mouth. Everything she thought she’d felt for Richard had died a quick death.

Thorn had gone to help attend to the horses. When he came back and found Richard sitting beside Trilby
and apparently on good terms with her, he could have cursed.

With a savage anger, he cleaned and loaded his rifle, keeping well away from the rest of the group. Trilby noticed his absence and began to feel that their intimacy had completely killed his interest. He might have decided that he didn’t even want to marry her, and that was terrifying. If she became pregnant what would she do? She would be ruined.