Shield's Lady (Lost Colony 3) - Page 27/92

understand you."

"But you want me," he stated.

"I… I think this is what I want. Gryph, this is all so new to me." She felt a faint twinge of uncertainty that momentarily interfered with the wonderful sense of discovery and excitement.

"We have much to learn about each other, lady, but the learning starts with this." He caught her mouth with his own and Sariana gasped at the urgency of his kiss. Behind it lay an

unfathomable pool of dark isolation and aloneness, a bottomless spring of masculine need. It blotted out everything, including the flash of uncertainty she had felt moments earlier. Now all that mattered was bringing light into that darkness. The only light she had to give him was herself. Sariana trembled but she didn't pull away as Gryph deepened the kiss.

She was still adjusting physically and emotionally to the compelling feel of his mouth when she felt his hands on the fastenings of her gown. She flinched when he began to undo them impatiently. Some of Sariana's growing desire was again halted by a tingle of confused uncertainty. Somehow, in the fantasies she had been indulging of late, she had imagined a slower, more sensual prelude.

"Be careful," she whispered softly. "You'll ruin the dress." She didn't care about the dress, but his implacable intensity was a bit unnerving. She wanted to slow him down.

"To the Lightstorm with the dress. Do you think it matters?" He tugged at the bodice and it came free to her waist. The finely woven chemise she was wearing beneath the gown was revealed. Her flowering ni**les pushed upward against the thin fabric.

Gryph groaned and rolled onto his side. He eased Sariana onto her back and stripped the gown completely off her in one swift movement. Then he pushed up the hem of her chemise and peeled off her stockings. His calloused hands were rough on the soft skin of her thighs.

A moment later Gryph yanked the chemise up over her head and Sariana was suddenly nude. He stared down at her, drinking in the sight of her small, full br**sts as he ran his hand along the curve of her thigh.

It was all happening too quickly. A belated sense of caution was mingling with her growing confusion

and Sariana began to doubt the wisdom of her earlier decision.

"Gryph, wait. You go too fast for me. I need time. Please."

His eyes were wild, tormented seas in the shadows of the room. "I wanted to give you time but I can't. Don't you understand, Sariana?"

She shook her head slightly, wondering at the desperation she thought she heard in his voice. It was hard to imagine this strong, controlled man being desperate about anything, let alone the beginning of a brief romantic affair.

"No, I don't understand," she admitted. "Please don't ruin this for me."

"Sariana." He made a strangled sound under his breath, a shattered exclamation that was half curse and half plea. It seemed to contain as much anguish as desire, and Sariana was instantly seized with a powerful need to soothe and comfort him. She touched his shoulder, not in a sexual manner, but in the same way she would stroke an injured creature. He shivered under her fingers.

She could feel him controlling himself with an intense willpower. His eyes closed tightly and his hand flexed into a fist. Sariana became aware of the heat of his skin and she grew worried. Surely he was too warm, she thought. Could sexual need bring on this kind of heat in a man?

Gryph was indeed in the grip of a fever, but she began to doubt that it was a fever brought on by passion. More likely it was the result of his wound. Her own budding sense of desire was rapidly changing into deep concern.

"Gryph, you're ill," she said, trying to sit up.

He opened his eyes, his expression stark in the shadows. "No. Not ill. Not the way you mean. I need you."

She touched his forehead and found it damp. "Later," she assured him gently. "There's plenty of time for us to get to know each other in this way. Right now you need sleep."

"Touch me," he commanded thickly.

"I am touching you and you're burning up with fever."

"Touch me," he repeated as he grabbed her wrist. He dragged her hand down his body to where his trousers were stretched tight across his heavy,, throbbing manhood. When he heard Sariana catch her breath in reaction to this graphic demonstration of his desire, Gryph nodded savagely. "Now do you understand? I need you. I won't force you. I can't. It doesn't work that way. But I need you. In ways you can't even guess at yet."

He was rambling, Sariana thought worriedly. She tried to free herself but she was suddenly caged between his hands. Anxiously she searched his face. "Let me get you something for the fever."

"No."

"I'll be right back," she assured him. "I won't leave you alone."

"No."

"Gryph, please listen to me. You have a fever. Probably brought on by your wound. You need rest." He shook his head slowly. "No. All I need is you. I'll show you."

He lowered his head and took her mouth once more with devastating force. Sariana responded even as she tried to tell herself she should get out of the bed. But when he pressed himself beside her, letting her feel his hard strength, she felt her resolve slipping.

He did want her. She was amazed that such demanding desire could coexist with the feverish heat from his wound, but she was forced to accept it. The truth was, her own body was growing warm with passion. Tentatively she put her arms around him and stroked his hard, muscled shoulders. Her knee flexed inward, touching his leg intimately.

"That's it, my Shield Lady," he said in aching relief. His mouth moved across hers and down her throat. He buried his lips in the curve of her shoulder and breathed deeply of her fragrance. "That's what I want from you. Touch me. Give yourself to me. Link with me."

She told herself he was rambling again. But this time she couldn't find the will to try to stop him. She was captivated by the depths of his demanding desire and enthralled by the discovery of her own response. She was being gathered into the center of a storm and with every minute that passed her chances of escape grew slimmer. There was a light in the center of that storm - many lights. Fractured,

glittering pieces of a rainbow formed a thousand splinters of color. It was like looking into prisma and watching the light that reflected from it transform itself into something more than light-Colors that moved through the spectrum and beyond danced in her head. They were rays of light so exotic she could not put a name to them.

Caught up in the lure of such a shimmering chaos of light, Sariana no longer thought of escape. She longed only to share the glittering waterfall with Gryph. She knew in the deepest reaches of her senses that he was the only one who could lead her safely through it just as she was the only one who could take him into the heart of the rainbow.