Smuggler's Lair by Virginia Henley Page B

years from now you will be garbed in black, or, if you’re particularly frivolous, dark gray.”
    â€œWill I?” he asked quizzically. As he approached the bed, she lowered her eyes shyly. “Look at me, Tory.”
    She raised her lashes and felt her pulse begin to race. His body was lithe and lean, his muscular torso powerful. He joined her on the bed and ranged himself over her in the dominant position, bracing himself on his palms. When she saw the falcon tattoos on his forearms, a frisson of excitement rippled from her breasts to her belly. He worshipped her with his eyes, his glance roaming over her possessively like a hot flame. His overt maleness made her feel seductively feminine. She entwined her arms about his neck and lifted her mouth to his. She opened her lips for his ravishing and the deep thrust of his tongue made her arch her body against his in wanton invitation.
    Falcon kept an iron control on his desire. His erection was hard and throbbing, but he knew Tory was not yet ready. He wanted her at the peak of arousal, so that her pleasure would vanquish any pain. His lips hovered at the corner of her mouth above the beauty spot. “Guard your heart, my beauty, I am about to steal it.” He plunged his tongue into her honey-drenched mouth, imitating what he longed to do with his cock. When she arched restlessly against him, he slipped his hand between her legs to stroke and play among the silken curls. He slid a finger into her tight sheath and caressed her tiny bud until she became wet and gasped in a fever of need. “Falcon, please!”
    He placed the head of his phallus against her cleft and, bracing his weight on his arms, thrust firmly until he was buried deep within. She cried out and clung to him fiercely. She was so hot and tight, he felt scalded. Though it was silken torment, he held perfectly still until she became used to the fullness inside her. When he was sure she was ready, he began to thrust slowly. The hot, sliding friction made her close sleekly around him. She was sweet as wild honey and the brush of her thighs against his inflamed his dark, erotic passion until he was reeling with need.
    Tory savored his fullness inside her and longed to feel the weight of his body. His masculine smell coupled with the sensual rhythm of his thrusts sent her arousal soaring. He was the Falcon and she let him take her higher and higher. She reached a peak of pleasure so intense she did not think she could bear more and she bit his shoulder in a frenzy of passion.
    Falcon felt a surging wave of desire he could not control. He went taut, then suddenly the night exploded into a million fragments, fusing the couple together in love, bathing them in liquid tremors; they floated together on a sea of bliss. She clung to him sweetly, limp from the loving. He rolled with her until she lay on top, languid, replete, and deliciously warm. He feathered his fingers through her wildly disheveled hair and felt her lips against his chest. Then his arms enfolded her possessively.
    After a long, quiet time, Tory raised her head, looked into his eyes, and whispered, “ Now I am ready to collect my wager.” He had made a woman of her and she was imbued with confidence. She believed they had reached a level of intimacy where it would be difficult for him to refuse her anything.
    He cocked a dark, indulgent brow. “What do you desire?”
    â€œTake me with you on your next smuggling run!”
    A denial sprang to his lips, but he did not utter it. Instead, he looked incredulous. “Tory, your imagination soars without boundaries. I am a staunch advocate of law and order. Among my guests tonight were a customs officer, a magistrate, various government officials, and the captain of the militia.”
    â€œAnd right under their noses you passed contraband to your noble guests. When all was safely stowed in the carriages, Mr. Burke signaled you.”
    He pulled her down to him.