Jacquie ’Alessandro - The Bride Thief

An inferno of need suffused him, and he lost all sense of time and place. Mine, mine, mine echoed through his mind as his teeth tugged her chemise lower. His wet fingers traced over her revealed skin as he trailed a hot path of kisses up to her neck, then fused his mouth to hers.

Blood rushed through him so hard that he felt it pounding in his ears. No woman, ever, had tasted like this. So sweet. So hot and silky. So delicious that he felt as if he could kiss her for days and still not have satisfied his hunger for her. He explored all the warm secrets of her satiny mouth, memorizing each tantalizing texture, as his hands wandered with increasing urgency up and down her back.

He needed to slow down, to savor each of her moans, but as she'd done before, she robbed him of his finesse. He hadn't planned to make love to her for the first time standing in the lake, but he couldn't seem to stop. Hell, he couldn't even slow down. His heart slammed against his ribs like a hammer. He felt as if his skin had shrunk two sizes, all but strangling him. He wanted, needed, her hands on him.

Breaking their kiss, he drew a ragged breath into his lungs. "Touch me, Samantha. Don't be afraid."

Uncertainty glimmered in her eyes. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to displease you."

He would have laughed if he'd been able. "There's not much chance of that." With one hand, he quickly unfastened his shirt, then glided her palm across his chest. A low growl rumbled in his throat. Releasing her hand, he said, "Do it again."

She brushed her hand across his chest, and his muscles contracted under her light touch. "Do you like that?" she asked, splaying her fingers against his skin, her eyes alight with wonder.

"God, yes."

Growing bolder, she lifted her other hand to his chest, and slowly eased her fingers downward, over his ribcage. "What is your reaction when I do that?" she asked.

It took every bit of his concentration to remain still and allow her to explore. "My heart pounds."

She ran her hands upwards, brushing over his nipples. "And that?"

He moved slightly, rubbing his erection against her. "It arouses me."

Her eyes widened. Taking one of her hands, he slid it down his chest, over his abdomen, then slipped it under the water. He pressed his rigid arousal against her palm. "You arouse me. Undeniably. Unequivocally. In a way that is nearly unbearable. So many 'u' words to describe what you do to me."

Her fingers closed around him, and his teeth clenched against the pleasure. He stood in an agony of sweet torment while she ran her fingers up and down his rigid length, learning him through his breeches. Her gaze remained steadily on his, and he watched her absorb the feel of him, along with the white-hot desire he knew burned in his eyes.

Without breaking their gaze, he unfastened his breeches, freeing his aching arousal. Her fingers closed over him, and his breath stalled. The cool water in no way tempered his ardor, and her hand enveloped him like a warm glove.

God help him, he didn't know how much of this he could stand. Her fingers moved over him, each caress killing him with pleasure. But when she squeezed him gently, he grasped her wrist.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked in a stricken voice.

His fingers tightened on her skin. "No. But when you do that…" he swallowed hard.

Feminine understanding suddenly gleamed in her eyes. "How do you react?" she asked in a voice he could only describe as smoky.

"It makes me forget to go slow with you. Makes me forget your innocence."

She flexed her fingers over his aching flesh and he groaned. "I do not feel very innocent," she whispered. "I feel decadent. And wicked. And… wanting."

God, he knew all about wanting. Wanting until he felt as if he'd caught on fire. Wanting, needing, until he burned from the inside out.

"I want to touch you more," she whispered.

Unable to deny either of them, he released her wrist. She glided her hand up and down, over him, igniting him until any semblance of control he might have imagined he still possessed, disappeared. Gone was his sophistication, his experience, his mastery over his own body. His hands trembled and his damn knees felt weak. All from her. Nothing existed except her. The touch of her hands. The feel of her skin. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. Now. Before he exploded in her hands.

Slipping one hand under the water, he grabbed the hem of her chemise and drew it upward.

"Hold onto my shoulders and wrap your legs around my hips," he ground out in a barely recognizable voice.

She did as he bid, opening herself up to him. His hand slipped between them, under her chemise. He caressed her with a slow circular motion, watching her eyes slip shut. Her fingers bit into his shoulder muscles, her breaths long and deep.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Her eyelids fluttered open and pure male satisfaction slammed into him at her languorous, bemused expression. When she focused on his face, he said, "Say my name."

Her lips parted and she sighed out, "Lord Wesley."

"No. My given name. Eric." He parted her plump folds, teasing her gently, then eased one finger just inside her. "Say it."

"Eric," she whispered.

Her velvety warmth surrounded his fingertip, and his erection jerked in response. She was so tight. So warm. So ready. And he could wait no longer.

He slowly slipped his finger from her, and a soft moan of protest rumbled from her. With his gaze locked on hers, he grasped her hips, then guided himself slowly into her welcoming heat. When her maidenhead halted his progress, he stilled, the significance of his actions ramming into him like a brick to his head. He was about to take her innocence-irrevocably ruin her. But God help him, unless she begged him to stop, there was no turning back now.

"We're not… finished, are we?" she asked in a tone that conveyed such suppressed dismay he would have chuckled had he been able.

Instead, he offered up a prayer of thanks that she hadn't asked him to stop. "No, sweetheart. We're not finished. But when I breach your maidenhead, it will probably hurt for a moment."

She brushed her wet fingertips over his face. "It couldn't possibly hurt worse than the thought of not sharing this with you. Don't stop. I want to know everything… every sensation. Every touch."

Praying he wouldn't hurt her, he tightened his grip on her hips, surging upward as he pressed her downward. Her eyes widened and she gasped, a sound that pierced his heart.

"God, I'm sorry," he said, forcing himself not to move. "Are you all right?" Damn it, had he been too rough? He should have taken more care. More time. But she'd driven him nearly insane-

"I'm… fine."

Thank God. But his relief instantly turned to sensual torture. Her feminine softness enveloped him like a tight silk glove, and he suddenly questioned his ability to withdraw from her when the time came. Gritting his teeth against the nearly unbearable pleasure, he remained motionless to give her time to adjust to the feel of him. A myriad of emotions flickered across her face… surprise, wonder, then pleasure, seconds later giving way to desire.

"In fact I'm…" She moved her hips, and he touched her a bit deeper, her liquid heat caressing him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and a long sigh escaped her as her lids drifted shut. "Oh, my."

Gripping her hips, he moved within her with an excruciating slowness that nearly killed him, easing nearly all the way out of her, only to slide smoothly back, filling her. Each time it seemed he caressed her deeper, she clenched him tighter, until he shook with burning need. His breathing turned into short, ragged, pants that matched her staccato gasps as his thrusts grew faster, stronger, the water swirling around them, slapping at their writhing bodies. He feared his intensity might frighten her, but she moved with him, her breaths as choppy as his.

"Eric," she moaned. Her legs clamped around his hips like a vise, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. He captured her against him, holding her so tightly, he didn't know where her skin ended and his began. He felt her orgasm tremble through her with his entire body. Her heart pounded against his, her hips bucked, and her sleek walls spasmed around him, drowning him in the same vortex that took her down.

The instant she sagged against him, he withdrew from her, helpless to hold back his climax another second. Clutching her to him, he buried his face against her fragrant neck, his arousal pressed tightly between them as his release shuddered through him.

He had no idea how many minutes passed before his breathing returned to normal and he could lift his head. When he did, she leaned back as far as his binding arms would permit and their gazes collided.

Pure incredulity glowed from her eyes. "Good heavens," she whispered. "That was…" her voice trailed off into a vaporous sigh.

"Incredible," he offered.

"Indescribable," she agreed.

"Intoxicating."

She reached out and traced his mouth with a single fingertip. "So many 'i' words to describe what you did to me, Eric."

He kissed her finger, then drew it slowly into his mouth, circling it with his tongue before releasing it. "So many 'i' words to describe you, Samantha," he corrected.

She lowered her lashes, and he knew his words brought a blush to her cheeks. "I didn't know people did… this in the water."

"Neither did I."

Her gaze flew to his. "You mean you've never…?"

"In a lake? No. This was a first for me."

A smile of unadulterated delight lit her face, and his throat tightened at the enchanting, sensual picture she made.

"I'm glad this was an adventure for you as well," she said. "I feared my lack of knowledge might bore you."

For an instant the area around his heart went hollow, then flooded with a tenderness he'd never before experienced. How could she not know that she was nothing less than fascinating? In every way? Because so many fools overlook what is right in front of them. Idiots. Yet, he selfishly couldn't deny that what others failed to recognize and admire in her somehow made her seem more his.

Brushing a damp tendril from her cheek, he said, "I assure you, I have never been less bored in my life. Indeed, boredom is not a feeling you have ever once inspired in me. And you are not lacking, Samantha. In any way."

He again sensed her blush, and she glanced downward. "I couldn't help but notice that you withdrew before you…"

"I promised you I would." And you have no idea how the effort nearly killed me.

Raising her gaze to his, she whispered, "I didn't realize that a man's seed was so… warm."

Warm? Hell, scalding was closer to the truth. He'd felt hot enough to heat the entire damn lake. Just recalling the sensation of her wrapped around him, his flesh buried deep inside her, pumped renewed desire through him.

"I think we'd best exit the lake before we become waterlogged." Before I make love to you again. "I hadn't meant to make love to you for the first time in the water?"

Interest flared in her eyes. "Oh? What had you planned?"

"Bringing you to a small lodge on my property." He gazed into her eyes, and his blood stirred. "Would you like to accompany me there now?"

She only said one word, but it was the only word he wanted to hear.

"Yes."

From the London Times:

The Bride Thief Posse now hails nearly five hundred members, and the price on the Bride Thief's head has grown to ten thousand pounds. There is nowhere in England the Thief can hide now. His days are well and truly numbered.

The following morning, before joining her parents and Hubert in the breakfast room, Sammie peered at herself in the cheval glass in her bedchamber.

How was it possible that she looked the same when everything was so completely, irrevocably different! How could it be that all the extraordinary things she was feeling on the inside did not show on the outside, except perhaps for the color staining her cheeks?

Hugging her arms around herself, she closed her eyes, allowing memories from last night to wash over her. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the intimacies she and Eric had shared, first at the lake, then at his lodge. The indescribable sensation of lying naked before a man who slowly explored her body with his hands and lips, eliciting a passion in her that she had never suspected herself capable of.