Free A Secret Passion by Sophia Nash Page B

her person. He kissed her delicate neck as he stretched the barrier within her and massaged the firm bud of her desire.
    Suddenly he heard her breath catch and she seemed to be on a precipice, hanging by a thread. He felt the unfulfillment of all the years gone by dissolve in that suspended moment in time. In that instant Rolfe pushed inside of her. She clung to him and held her breath as he began the necessary, painful stretching. Breathing hard, he strained to maintain control. He moved slowly in and out of just the mere edges of her for long moments. Then, closing his eyes, he firmly plunged inside her, past her barrier, past her innocence, filling her completely. In a fog, he could hear her calling him.
    “Please, oh… wait, wait, please.”
    He stopped and looked down at her face. Her expression filled him with pain. With more control than he knew he possessed, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Jane, I shall stop if you insist. But, my dear, the damage is already done.”
    “Is it over?” she asked in a high, nervous voice.
    “Not for me, no.”
    “Will it hurt if you continue?”
    “Possibly, a little, I think,” he said hoarsely. He felt that the slightest movement might cause him to explode. He continued, “Jane, hold me, and let me take you.”
    She wrapped her arms around his back, and he guessed she was keeping her panic at bay. Slowly, he withdrew and massaged just the outside edges of her again. He teased the opening until she could bear it no longer. She pulled his buttocks down toward her, and he began an excruciating, slow rhythm.
    Now the aching pleasure he felt was almost painful in its intensity. As he broke rhythm, he pressed deep into her. She gripped his shoulders and twined her long legs around his. He strained to move the last fraction of an inch closer to her being.
    Abruptly, he stopped, and pulled out of her. He savored the intense release of his seed onto her soft belly, and listened to her breathing.
    Wiping away the evidence of his passion with the sheet, he moved to cover her again with his body as he buried his face in her golden hair, breathing in her feminine scent. She loosened her grip on his shoulders and caressed his back. He felt satiated and at peace—sensibilities that had eluded him for such a very long, long time.
    He arranged her in the cradle of his arms as he withdrew her arms from around him. The strain of holding back had taken its toll. He had used the last drop of his innermost resources of strength in his care of this woman. The loss of her innocence had tasted bittersweet. An overwhelming feeling of protectiveness enveloped him as he held her in his arms and tucked the bedcovers over both of them. He pulled her body close to his. His hand found its way to her breast, and he could feel her erratic heartbeats.
    She covered his hand with her own. In a low voice she whispered, “Thank you.”
    The cold stirrings of doubt battered his thoughts as he stared up at the bed hangings overhead. “Thank you? Is that really what you should be saying to me? Should it not be, ‘Damn you’?”
    “Perhaps. However, all I can feel at this moment is a sense of gratitude.”
    He continued as he sat up in bed. “What could you have been thinking to allow, nay, encourage, your own seduction when you were a virgin?”
    He watched a deep blush suffuse her face as she sat up, holding the bedcovers to her breasts. She pulled her shift from the top of the heap on the floor and put it on. “I am sorry to have troubled you, my lord. But do not forget it was you who brought me here,” she added with a tight smile. She trembled despite her attempt to portray a cool exterior. She rose from the bed and stepped into her gown.
    Rolfe sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He looked up at her as she struggled to fasten the buttons at the back of her prim mourning dress. He stood up, shaking his head as he walked straight toward her. Jane blushed anew and lowered