Jeannie Lin - Silk, Swords And Surrender - The Touch of Moonlight / The Taming of Mei Lin / The Lady's Scandalous Night / An Illicit Temptation / Capturing the Silken Thief

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, letting the sounds of her arousal guide him.

* * *

Lian was crying out shamelessly, but soon any sense of embarrassment faded in the wake of the most devastating pleasure she had ever known. She and the neighborhood girls had always speculated what exactly it was that happened between a man and woman, but she had never known it could be like this.

This was not romance or poetry, a flight of sparrows or a fall of spring rain. This was tawdry and base and she was rendered helpless against it. There was nothing she wanted more than Baozhen’s touch on her, inside her. She was completely at his mercy and she’d die if he stopped.

He seemed to know. He ground his body against her while he stroked her with wicked skill. His touch was lightning-quick, like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. She gasped for air, her mind whirling as she fought for some way to tell him she needed more.

Baozhen had trapped her hands to keep her still, but it was no longer needed. She was ensnared by this rapture that consumed her. Her heart was beating so fast it would surely burst. He was whispering heated words into her ear. Love words. Gutter words. The blood was rushing so furiously through her head that she couldn’t make them out. She only knew that Baozhen was there—holding her, touching her.

He relaxed his hold on her wrists to twine his fingers with hers. “Soon,” he gritted out, and she wasn’t certain whether it was a command, a question, a promise.

A sob caught in her throat as the pleasure intensified to a nearly unbearable throb. She had never cried in front of Baozhen, but she was suddenly filled with desperate longing. She wanted without knowing what it was she wanted.

A short but endless time passed, and then her entire body and soul tightened to a single, blinding point. A flood of nameless emotion swept through her. She shuddered, lost between heaven and earth, filled with light and sensation.

When she found herself again Baozhen was reaching for her. He kissed her lightly on her cheek, her lips, the tip of her chin. Each affectionate gesture seemed wholly innocent after the lightning storm she’d just experienced.

But while her limbs were waxen and languid, Baozhen remained taut beside her. She’d thought he’d joke now, and say something to lighten the mood, but his expression was strained.

She didn’t have any experience in the bedchamber, but she knew enough to understand that this was not the end of things. His tunic was open, exposing a patch of sun-warmed skin and lean muscle, solid from labor and riding. It was enough to show her that Baozhen was as beautiful beneath his clothes as he was on the outside.

Pushing all hesitation aside, Lian reached for his trousers. Baozhen moved to stop her, but she refused to be denied. The knot at his waist fell open. She slipped her hand inside, running it along the flat of his stomach and downward to find him. Baozhen tried to push her away, but all the while his hips shifted restlessly toward her.

“No,” he choked out. “Lian, wait. You’re very beautiful...it’s very difficult to stop when—”

He was nearly incoherent before falling silent. Her questing fingers had encircled the male part of him. The skin was heated and incredibly smooth. Another mystery uncovered—and not at all what she had expected. Now he changed, becoming as hard as jade when she touched him. She could barely breathe.

“Baozhen,” she implored as she pushed the trousers down around his hips. “Please.”

He made one last feeble attempt to remove her hands, but his body was insinuating itself into her grasp, begging for her.

“It was you I was waiting for tonight,” she confessed. “It was always you.”

She didn’t know if he’d heard her, but he lowered her back onto the bed with sudden resolve and pushed her robe up around her hips. She was exposed scandalously below the waist, but there was no time for embarrassment to set in before Baozhen covered her with the length and breadth of his body.

He took only a moment to center himself, his fingers touching her down below briefly, before she felt the blunt press of his member between her legs. She looked up at his dark expression as he cupped a hand to the back of her neck, gripping lightly. His breath fanned hot against her cheek as he pushed into her.

The air rushed out of her in one sharp exhalation. The sensation was indescribable. Overwhelming. A moment of fear gripped her as he continued to fill her. She didn’t know what to do other than drape her arms over his shoulders. Her limbs became weak as the feeling of being invaded and stretched increased, sending unknown shocks through every part of her. Above her, Baozhen’s brow furrowed sharply, but he didn’t stop. She dug her nails into his back.

“Lian—” He spoke her name brokenly as he finally settled deep within her.

They were hip to hip, as close as two people could be. He remained still for a string of heartbeats before his body lifted. She thought it might be over—until he slid back in, shuddering with the movement.

She whimpered softly as he continued to move, his thrusts increasing in speed and forming a rhythm. His fingers tangled into her hair, a rough reassurance, and his mouth touched against her throat. Her body began to open for him, to accept these new sensations.

Before she could decipher what it was she was feeling—pleasure or pain—Baozhen’s muscles suddenly constricted. With a groan that came from deep within his chest he sank down onto her and laid his head against her shoulder: an odd position, considering he was much larger than her. He buried his face into her hair.

The enormity of what had just happened began to sink into her. They were on her bed, their clothes hastily shoved aside. The boy she had always wanted, now a man, was there in her arms. Baozhen shifted some of his weight from her and she became aware of the soreness where their bodies had been joined. She didn’t know what to think. The experience had been both confusing and exhilarating. Now everything was so...strange.

Baozhen lifted himself onto one elbow so he could see her. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

His voice even sounded odd, and unlike him. Heavy and uncertain.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Absently, he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and then sat up. His movements were slow and deliberate and his expression showed he was lost in deep thought. He smoothed her skirt carefully back down over her legs before righting his own clothes. The silence became oppressive, and Lian couldn’t think of anything to do but watch and wait.

He moved to the edge of the bed, then paused to turn back to her. “What do you want me to do, Lian?”

She was at a loss. Why would he be asking her? He was more experienced than she was.

Before she could think of an answer the sound of voices in the courtyard stopped her heart. Baozhen straightened, his shoulders tensing.

“My parents!” she gasped.

Baozhen shot to his feet. His eyes darted to the door, the window, then back to her.

“Hide,” she said frantically.

“Where?” There was no place in her tidy room for him to fit.

“Are you feeling better, daughter of mine?” Her mother’s sing-song call came from just outside the door.

Lian was still struggling out of the bed when the door opened and there stood her mother, staring at Baozhen.

“Chen Furen,” he addressed her formally, his voice rasping.

“Oh, dear heaven!” her mother wailed, rushing past him to the bed.

“Mother, Baozhen was only—”

Lian’s words caught in her throat. Only...what?

Mother threw her arms around Lian and called for her father.

Baozhen looked sick as her father entered. Her father was tall, the cut and color of his robe severe, and he had his piercing glare fixed upon Baozhen. Her father was well-known as a force in the East Market and he appeared particularly imposing tonight.