Surely that thought should horrify his conscience, yet his inner voice remained silent, allowing him to rationalize that, while he would never want her to be forced into a marriage she did not want, there was not a doubt in his mind that given enough time, she would come to realize they belonged together. Certainly once they'd made love, she would know.

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss?" she asked.

Releasing her wrists, he entwined their fingers. "No. In fact, I believe I'm quite out of conversation."

She stepped forward, erasing the distance between them. The tips of her breasts brushed his shirt, igniting him. "Then perhaps you'd like to kiss me."

His gaze drifted down to her full lips, and he swelled against his breeches. "Yes, I would. For starters…"

Bending his head, he captured her mouth in a kiss he'd meant to be tender. But the instant his lips touched hers, it blazed into something hot and demanding, then scorching when she disentangled her fingers from his and ran her palms up his chest and over his shoulders to tangle in his hair.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he hauled her tightly against him, while his free hand slid up her back, into her soft hair. They strained against each other, her breasts flattened against his chest, his erection cradled in the V of her thighs. Their tongues tangled in a desperate dance to taste more, delve deeper. The taste of her… sweet and spicy at the same time, her luscious honeysuckle scent, wrapped around him, invading his senses. He wanted, needed, more of her. Now.

A small inner voice warned him to slow down, but his body was beyond obeying. He felt as if he'd spent months in the desert, deprived of water, and she was an oasis. A desperate need to touch her everywhere at once overwhelmed him, fueling the hunger pounding through him. His hands skimmed restlessly down her back, cupping her rounded buttocks, then wandered up her rib cage and forward, to fill his palms with her full breasts.

She squirmed against him, and a low, animal-like growl vibrated in his throat. He wanted his hands on her skin. Needed hers on his. Breaking off their kiss, he looked down at her. Her lips were swollen and moist, her color high, her eyes glazed with arousal. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths, no less frantic than his own.

Reaching up, he cupped her face between his none-too-steady hands. "Allie…" Bloody hell, he barely recognized that rasp as his voice. "I want to go slow, gently, with you, but God help me, I don't know if I can."

Her warm breath puffed over his lips. "I don't recall asking you to go slow. In fact…" She lowered her hand down his body and stroked her fingers over his straining erection.

He sucked in a sharp breath and managed a jerky nod. "Right. We'll save slow for another time." He took one step back and set to work unfastening his shirt with an impatience he could not control. She immediately busied herself undoing the row of buttons on her dressing gown. He mourned the fact that he wasn't removing her clothing himself, but damn it, this was faster. And he wanted, needed, them skin to skin as quickly as possible.

In spite of his shaking hands, and his attention diverted by the arousing sight of her robe slipping off her shoulders, he managed to strip off his clothing in record time. He tossed his breeches aside just as her gown slithered downward to pool at her feet.

For the space of several heartbeats, they stared at each other. She was incredible. Round and womanly, soft and fragrant. Her breasts were high and full, her coral nipples pebbled with arousal. His gaze wandered downward, touching on her curved waist, then the triangle of chestnut curls nestled between her shapely thighs. By God, the instant he did not feel so desperate and about to explode, he would take the time to savor every delectable inch of her.

They reached for each other at the same time, arms going about each other, skin pressed to heated skin from chest to knee. At last. She felt so damn good… so soft and warm. He captured her mouth in another searing kiss, slipping his tongue into the silky heaven behind her lips. With his mouth fused to hers, he cupped her buttocks and lifted her up against him. She instantly wrapped her legs around his hips, opening herself, her moist feminine flesh pressing against his arousal. Bloody hell, he wasn't sure he could make it to the bed. Determined not to disgrace himself, he headed swiftly across the room, tumbling her onto the mattress, then following her down.

Again his inner voice yelled for him to slow down, that his performance here was sadly lacking, and perhaps, if she'd been docile, he might have succeeded. But she clearly was as impatient and frantic as he. Spreading her legs wide, she surged her hips upward, and he sank deep into her body in one smooth, heart-stopping stroke. Her inner walls clutched him like a tight, wet, hot velvet fist, and a long moan of pure feminine satisfaction rumbled from her throat.

She undulated beneath him, rubbing her aroused nipples against his chest, and he lost any semblance of control he might have imagined he still possessed. His world narrowed to the place where their bodies were intimately joined. Nothing existed except her… her skin against his, his heart pounding against hers. Mindless, his muscles moving of their own accord, he thrust into her with long, hard strokes, touching her deeper and higher each time. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and he was vaguely aware of her fingers digging into his skin.

He felt the spasms pulse deep within her, and her low, guttural growl of pleasure vibrated against his ear. Helpless to contain his own release any longer, he buried his face against her neck and throbbed inside her for an endless, intense moment, spilling his seed, and what felt like his soul, inside her.

God help him, he could not move. Could not so much as flex his fingers. He did not know how long it took sanity to return, but when it did, it smacked him like a brick to the head.

What the devil had happened to him? What had come over him? He'd totally, completely, lost control of himself. Of his mind and body. In a way he never had before. He'd shown her a completely appalling lack of mastery and finesse, and certainly less consideration than he'd ever shown any previous lover, a fact which filled him with self-disgust and guilt.

Summoning what strength he could, he lifted his head and propped his upper-body weight on his forearms. He gazed down at her, and caught his still-not-fully-returned breath.

Her eyes were closed, her sable lashes resting against smooth cheeks hectic with color. Her shiny hair lay in tangled disarray on the sheet, her braid completely undone. Her lips were parted, and he gave in to his urge to drop a soft kiss upon them.

Her eyes opened slowly, and heat rushed through him at her dazed expression. The tip of her tongue peeked out to moisten the lips he'd just kissed. She said nothing, just stared up at him, a kaleidoscope of impossible-to-read emotions flickering in her rapidly clearing eyes.

Unease pulled at him. Damn it, what was she thinking? He knew she'd found her release. He'd felt her orgasm shimmer through her, pulsing around him, driving him mad. But was it possible she had not felt the same magic, the same intensity as he? Everything inside him protested the mere thought. No. She had to have felt it… that same fire that had damn near incinerated him.

A jumble of feelings crowded into his brain, declarations that demanded to be verbalized, but he pushed them away. For now. It was too soon. He needed to take one step at a time. So far, lacking finesse or not, he'd engaged her body. Her heart would soon follow. He refused to consider anything else. Yet he could not deny that he'd employed all the expertise of a green boy.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm afraid I quite lost control of myself. Next time will be better for you. I promise."

Allie's heart lurched at his words, and she remained silent for several breathless seconds, studying him. His hair was disheveled from her frantic fingers, one dark lock dipping over his forehead in a way that begged her to touch the soft strands. His cheeks were ruddy from his exertions, his mouth slightly reddened from their devouring kisses. And his eyes… they were so dark and intense, steadily regarding her with a potent expression she'd never seen before. One that made her feel so… she didn't know.

Could this-whatever it was-be that elusive something she'd unsuccessfully sought during her marriage? The question raised an onslaught of unwanted emotions she was not prepared to examine now. Later… she would think later. There would be plenty of time… later. Right now, all she wanted to do was feel… experience more of the magic he'd wrought with his hands and body.

She stretched like a contented cat beneath him, reveling in the glorious sensation of his weight pressing her into the mattress, his crisp chest hair grazing her sensitive nipples. That brief glimpse she'd been treated to of his naked form, before they'd fallen upon each other like starved creatures presented with a feast, had turned her insides to porridge and shot liquid heat directly to her womb. Tall, muscular, broad shoulders… and that fascinating ribbon of dark hair that bisected his ridged abdomen, then spread to cradle his most impressive arousal. A shiver of anticipation skittered down her spine, and a smile born of all the wicked delight coursing through her pulled at her lips.

"Better for me?" she repeated. "Oh, my. I wouldn't have thought such a thing possible… but if you insist it is, I shall anxiously await next time. Have you any idea when that might be, Sir M.M.Q.?"

"M.M.Q.?"

She brushed a fingertip over his bottom lip. "Makes Me Quiver."

Lowering his head, he traced the sensitive shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, then whispered, "Actually, I have a very good idea when the next time might be."

Another delicate shiver ran through her. "Hmmm. I hope it's soon."

"I was thinking about now."

"Now sounds lovely."

"Indeed it does."

Pushing himself up, Robert settled back onto his knees between her splayed legs and took the time he'd been too impatient to take earlier, to savor the sight of her.

She looked like a golden-bronze temptress, bathed in firelight, her skin glowing with the exertion of their frantic mating. His gaze leisurely appreciated her dusky nipples, her abdomen, the charming indent of her navel, then the alluring dark curls between her thighs. He inhaled, and the musky scent they'd created together filled his head.

She regarded him with a half-serious, half-playful sinful expression that fired heat straight to his groin. Reaching out, he touched one finger to the delicate hollow of her throat, then dragged his fingertip slowly downward, arousing one plump nipple, then the other, with a feathery caress, his hand a dark contrast against her pale skin. When her breathing turned into a series of long sighs, he leaned forward and replaced his fingers with his tongue, slowly laving her breasts, then drawing the taut peaks into his mouth. The scent of honeysuckle rose from her damp flesh, mixing with the musk of their joining, intoxicating him.

Her sighs turned into moans, and she combed her fingers through his hair, thrusting her breasts upward, encouraging him to take more into his mouth. Her hips undulated, rubbing her inner thighs against his legs. He discovered an enchanting trio of freckles just below her left breast that occupied his lips for several minutes. Then he explored further, running his tongue slowly downward toward her stomach, savoring every quiver of her skin, every hill and valley of her feminine form, along the way. When he dipped his tongue into her navel, she responded with a husky groan that notched up his temperature several degrees.

"Robert…"

Every nerve in his body caught fire at the sound of his name coming from her lips in that passion-roughed whisper. He straightened, settling back on his heels, then looked into her eyes, which seemed to breathe golden-brown smoke. Need, hot and strong and impatient, clawed at him.

Gliding his palms over her smooth thighs, he gently pushed her legs wider apart, revealing her glistening feminine flesh to his avid gaze. Reaching out, he caressed her wet, swollen folds with a gentle circular motion, his gaze alternating between his fingers and her expressive face. Her body writhed sensually beneath his touch, and her uninhibited response aroused him to the breaking point. And that's where he wanted her-at the breaking point. The instant he sensed she was there, he withdrew his hand. Her sharp groan of protest filled the room, spiking his now nearly desperate need.