The Duke Is Mine - Eloisa James [93]
His eyes were laughing at her, but that was because he didn’t understand just how much this all hurt.
“Olivia,” he said, lowering his mouth on hers again, entirely relaxed, as if he meant to stay in the same position all night, “I love you.” And then he kissed her, demanding that she open her mouth, so she did.
He plunged inside, his tongue playing a wet, hot game with hers, and Olivia understood for the first time. This kind of kissing was . . . carnal. It was outrageous.
“No wonder,” she murmured.
He pulled back a fraction of an inch, arched an eyebrow.
“No wonder they don’t allow debutantes to kiss,” she explained. “It’s just another way to make love, isn’t it?”
In answer he took her mouth again, possessive, hot, sweet. All the sides of Quin at once.
“Dear heart,” he said a while later, after his hand had drifted to her breast, “does it still hurt as much as it did?”
“Of course,” Olivia said automatically. Even though she was enjoying his caresses—and how could she not?—she was always aware of the pain and the sense that something foreign and far too large was splitting her in half.
But then she wriggled a trifle and realized that it didn’t hurt quite as much as it had before.
“It does feel a little better. I suppose you shrink when we don’t do anything for a while.”
He blinked. “Sweetheart, if you think a man who’s found his way into the sweetest, tightest place in the world would shrink . . .”
She wriggled again, thought about that blissful feeling he gave her before all of this started. It wasn’t fair to leave him without it. She wasn’t afraid of pain. Or rather, she didn’t believe in being afraid of pain.
“You should start again,” she said. In truth, she was afraid, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t courage.
He looked unconvinced.
“Now,” Olivia elaborated. “You can move back and forth now.”
Slowly he withdrew. Oddly enough, once he was gone, she felt empty. Ridiculous, really. Then he was there again, slow this time, very slow. Part of her just wanted him to go fast, get it over with. Another part was entranced by the slow invasion. It did something . . .
She found her breath hitching, and her back arching a little.
“Better?” he asked, quietly, but she could hear the gruffness in his voice.
She nodded.
“Again?”
She acquiesced.
He pushed in, slow and steady. It wasn’t comfortable. Not at all. But it was bearable. The rough sense of friction was even rather pleasant, for some strange reason.
And there was a trace of anxiety in Quin’s eyes, pinching away some of his pleasure.
“I’m starting to love this,” she said, giving him a big smile. “I could do this all night. I’ll probably—”
“Liar,” he growled, biting back the smile in his eyes. “I know this is hell for you, but Olivia, it is heaven for me. I never imagined anything could feel the way you do.”
Braced on his forearms, he looked down at her, eyes heavy-lidded, slumberous with passion.
Olivia let the gladness of it fill her heart. She arched her back, moved toward him. It was an awkward movement, but he understood.
He threw his head back, eyes closed, and thrust forward fast and hard, once, twice, again . . . Just when Olivia started to think that perhaps it wasn’t quite so horrible, Quin made a sound, a brutal, dangerous sound, and thrust into her a final time.
If he had fallen on top of Georgiana like that, like a felled tree, he might have killed her.
The good news was that because she had never taken to a lettuce diet, Quin felt exactly right falling on top of her. In fact, Olivia tightened her arms around his neck to keep him in place. The terrible burning between her legs seemed to have lessened, too. In fact, it felt rather tingly and almost comfortable down there.
It was so intimate. He was part of her. They were connected, two people, put together like a jigsaw puzzle that couldn’t be put asunder. The thought made her a little teary.
“Quin,” she