Free Midnight Eyes by Sarah Brophy

existed inside of her. She found herself helpless and entirely unable to resist his sensual invasion. Her body longed for this strange new self he was showing her. It was as if she had come alive after a lifetime of slumber, every nerve ending opening to the world in a whole new way.
    He invaded her every sense.
    Her fingertips buried in his hair, tingling with the feel of his warm scalp. She could hear the scrape of his stubbled cheek against her skin, his roughness against her smoothness, her mews, his half groans, the moist sound of his mouth plundering hers and the shush of fabric rubbing against fabric created the most exquisite music that Imogen had ever heard.
    It was the song of Robert making love to her.
    Making love. She only half understood what those words meant. She knew of dark deeds to be forgotten in the daylight, but she knew nothing of love between a man and a woman. Somehow, though, her body knew. It knew what it needed, and relentlessly pushed her toward the abyss of the unknown to get it.
    It was in the part of her mind where the memories were freshest that a small doubt came to life. That small, rational region of her separated itself, hiding behind a cold wall of fear. It was almost overwhelmed by the sudden need of her body to learn all.
    But fear was relentless and slowly froze her body’s needs. She lowered her hands to his chest and tried to push him away. It was no more than the fluttering of a butterfly and in Robert’s passion-clouded mind it barely registered. His body, however, was at one with hers and was instantly aware that she was no longer following him into the mad sensual realm they had stumbled upon. He struggled to lift his mind free of the lust that had taken hold of him and he couldn’t help but groan with frustration as he tore his lips free from hers.
    Even though it was what she had silently asked for, she wanted to protest the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth as she struggled to slow the rapid beat of her heart while she listened to Robert’s labored breathing. She found it oddly intoxicating that she could bring him to a state that equaled her own. His forehead leaned against hers, bathing Imogen with the sweetness of his breath.
    It was a long moment before either of them could speak.
    “I’m sorry,” Imogen finally murmured.
    Robert lifted his hand to gently cup her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He inhaled sharply. “It is I who should be apologizing for my behavior. First I rush you from your own wedding feast without letting you eat properly, then I behave like an animal without control over his lust.”
    He slowly ran his thumb over the softness of her cheek and she shivered as she felt the rasp of his callouses against her skin. Without any conscious thought she reached up to hold his hand to her face when he made to move it away.
    “I didn’t really mind,” Imogen said shyly, surprising herself as much as him with the truth of that statement. “I’m just not sure…”
    Robert’s sharp laughter cut off Imogen’s confused apology. They stood so close that she could almost feel it inside of her as it reverberated through his chest. His laughter almost felt like her own.
    “Well, I am sure. You need time and I should be giving it to you,” Robert ground out harshly.
    He held her tightly to his burning need for a second, then carefully lifted her bodily away from him. Bereft of his support she had to lean against the door to support her suddenly weak legs. In confusion she listened to him prowl the room like a caged lion, his disgust and self-loathing almost a tangible presence in the room.
    The knowledge that it was her own fears and confusion that had caused his torment haunted her. She had never meant to cause him pain. She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling his pain in her own body in much the same way she had felt his laughter. He thought his clean lust had frightened her, when instead it was her dark memories of another’s