Free Not Quite Married by Betina Krahn

sensation and loosening restraint.
    One kiss merged into another and then another. She melted against him, seeking a contact that would assuage the new and strangely pleasurable ache of longing in her. Somewhere in the midst of that stream of sensation, her reserve and mistrust were forgotten. Her awareness narrowed to here and now; to the small circle of candlelight surrounding them, to the circle of his arms.
    There was nothing but this lush physical closeness, in which discoveries awaited and desire could only deepen. Time seemed to still and each moment, each sensation stretched out with leisurely abandon to claim her.
    When his hands began to move over her, she welcomed each gentle, exploratory caress. Instinctively she responded and when he paused, she began to explore him as well. Soon he led her to a large stuffed chair and pulled her down onto his lap. There, he began to loosen her laces and weave a spell in her senses as well as inside her clothes.
    Her sighs and responsive movements spoke of her rising passion and directed his touch. Soon she was insensible to all but the feel of his hands on her. Intent, focused on the paths he was tracing on her bare breasts and the burning heat that his kisses stirred in her, she scarcely felt him drawing her skirt upward and parting her petticoats.
    All she knew, as those stunning moments carried them along, was that she had never felt such physical delight . . . never guessed that such a thing existed. Her entire body grew sensitive and receptive; every part of her came alive with rapturous possibilities. Modesty and hesitation banished, she covered his hand with hers and guided it so that his touch would linger in some sensitive places and then move on to discover others. When his hands reached the bare skin of her thighs, she shivered and shifted to invite his attentions higher.
    She rode a tightening spiral of excitation, feeling a response building in her, feeling herself expanding within her own skin, feeling a divine pressure building in her loins and against the underside of her skin. She pressed against him, instinctively understanding that his hard male body could relieve the burning, tightening sensations building in her. It was need, she realized with helpless wonder. It was hunger.
    His hands wove a spell of rising excitation and her responses slipped beyond her control. Some primal part of her welcomed that intimate conjuring, actively sought it, then demanded it. She quivered as he caressed her, gasping, clutching his shoulders. She could feel her senses widening, her muscles tightening, her body growing taut and focused with need. Then, as if she couldn’t contain another drop of that expanding pleasure, her senses exploded and her body convulsed with response.
    She was vaguely aware of transferring to the bed . . . of him removing his coat and waistcoat . . . When he settled his body into the cradle of her thighs, she gave a ragged groan. When he came to her, there was some discomfort at first, but no real pain.
    His movements were slow and careful as he joined their bodies, allowing her time to adjust to him. Once again she was propelled along a tightening spiral of response that let to a shattering conclusion. This, she realized, was the release sought in the marriage bed, the fulfillment men and women sought in each other.
    For a time she floated in a bright, unbounded plane of satisfaction, buoyed by warmth and a fluid sense of completion.
    Her senses were pleasantly blurred, and exhaustion claimed her for a few blissful moments.
    AARON STOOD BY the bed, righting his garments, watching her face as she slept and seeing in it an alarming youth and vulnerability. The sense of what he’d just done settled like a dead weight on his chest, making it harder to breathe. He’d just wedded and bedded a young woman that he had promised—
    sworn —never to see again. This bizarre arrangement at first seemed a rare bit of luck, then a fleeting and potentially