"But that is not all that happened today, for I was very, very wicked, and if Mother and Father knew what I had done, they would surely send me away.

"Tonight, after they went to bed, I locked my door, put the lamp in my window, and waited for Jess to climb inside. We could not speak a word to each other for fear of being caught, but we did not need words, such is the depth of our bond to one another."

Rebecca stopped reading and glanced up at Devon, who was listening attentively. She cleared her throat to continue.

"I never felt such wild desire and passionate yearnings in my body. My blood raced with need as I looked down at his enormous erection. How I longed to touch it and feel the silky heat in my hand. I sat down on the bed, and he sat beside me."

Rebecca stopped reading again when Devon slowly sat down beside her.

"Continue," he said.

Feeling the heat of his muscular thigh touching hers on the bed, she fought her own dizzying desires and swallowed nervously.

"He kissed the side of my neck while he eased me onto my back."

Devon leaned closer and pressed his open mouth to her neck, just below the line of her jaw. His warm, wet tongue sent gooseflesh tingling down her body, as he suckled downward to the juncture at her shoulder.

She went weak all over, and was powerless to resist the lure of erotic sensation as he laid her down on the soft mattress. She knew she should not be giving in so easily. This was not how she'd intended to win his heart, but she could not stop herself. She could not.

"Keep reading," he whispered between kisses as he tasted the base of her throat. Rebecca barely managed to hold the book open in front of her.

"He unbuttoned the top of my nightdress and kissed and fondled my breasts, taking my firm, sensitive nipples into his mouth and sucking greedily upon them, until I was filled with such hunger, it was all I could do to keep from crying out."

Devon had already begun to unbutton her gown, and quivering as she was with desire, she could not continue to hold the book. She let it fall to the bed and reached up to touch his face. He kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, then pushed her bodice open and probed with his tongue into her cleavage at the top of her corset. It was all too much. She wanted him so desperately. She could not stop.

"Sit up," he whispered. "I need to take this off you." He began to ease her bodice off her shoulders.

She did not argue, for she was floating in the exotic realm of her sexual fantasies, even when she knew she should be thinking about more practical matters-like whether or not this was wise when she wanted a marriage proposal from him.

But she had wanted this for so long, and it wasn't as if she had just met him this week. He had been living in her heart for four lonely years. She was eager and aching with desire. She could not let go of this.

Soon she was nude from the waist up, feeling no modesty as she lowered herself onto the bed again and inched up onto the pillows.

With dark, mischievous seduction in his eyes, he crawled over her on all fours, then he tasted a nipple, teasing it with his tongue and squeezing it gently between his teeth. He began nuzzling her breasts with his lips and cheeks, tickling her with his hair, dropping wet kisses down the center of her trembling belly until she gasped with delight.

"What happens next?" he asked.

She didn't have to open the diary because she had every word of that entry memorized. "He removes her gown completely, then takes off all his clothes and mounts her, his body slick with sweat in the summer heat while her heart is racing with excitement and fear, for she'd never felt his shaft between her legs before. She'd only held it in her hands."

By the time she'd finished describing it, Devon was already unfastening her skirt buttons and untying the tapes of her white split drawers. She raised her hips while he pulled them down and tossed everything to the floor.

She was completely naked now. Her body melted in the excruciating pleasure of all her wild, erotic fantasies coming true.

He slid off the bed and stood to remove all his clothes, too, and when he was nude in the warm, golden light of the fire, Rebecca let her gaze float down to his enormous manhood, standing straight out, thick and long and shocking to her virginal eyes.

She was captivated.

He watched her with some amusement, then smiled knowingly, as if he recognized her fascination. It was a sexual grin, relaxed and full of cool confidence. "You might want to hold it in your hand first, if you want to know what Lydie knows."

"I do."

He came to lie beside her again, stretching out on his back, naked and magnificent like a great work of art. It seemed he was laying himself out for her benefit, to allow her time to satisfy her curiosity and explore the secrets of a man's body. He presented himself to her without modesty.

More than eager to begin her exploration and discovery, she sat up on her knees beside him and wrapped her hand around his erection, which was so much hotter than she'd ever imagined it would be.

She stroked and massaged him in the firelight, then slid her hand lower between his legs to toy with the rest of his tremendous, masculine anatomy, the way Lydie had described doing on so many incredible occasions.

"Please lie on top of me now," she whispered, brushing her lips lightly over his. "Mount me, like Jess does to Lydie in the book."

"Honestly, darling," he said as he rose to the task, "the things that come out of your delicious mouth…"

She lay down with her head on the feathery pillows. He rolled over onto her, massive and heavy, pressing her into the soft mattress. She spread her legs wide and felt the intimate tip of his penis against her hot, waiting core. Sizzling tension filled the air.

"Lydie's heart begins to race even faster," she said. "She is terrified, but at the same time overcome by her passions."

Rebecca ran her hands through Devon's thick, black hair and shivered with pleasure as he blew gently into her ear. "But her young lover does not take her virginity that night. He does not exert pressure, nor does he push or thrust into the depths of her body."

Devon went still, then lifted his head. "He doesn't?"

"No," she replied. "He simply lies on top of her with the silky tip of his erection poised against her maidenhead, holding her and looking into her eyes with love and affection."

"For how long?" he asked, sounding rather baffled.

"Until he rolls off her and she rests her head on his shoulder."

He rose up on one elbow. "Are you sure that's what it says?"

"Yes. Do you want me to read it to you?"

She could see his chest heaving, as if he were out of breath. "When does he take her virginity?"

"Weeks later, after he vows to make her his wife."

"Weeks, you say."

She nodded.

He held his weight on both elbows, propped over her. His hot stomach pulsed upon hers. He said nothing. He merely looked off to the side.

"But you want to make love to me now," she said in a low, sensual voice, for she was not a fool. She understood what was happening. He had expected more.

He met her gaze. She wiggled her bottom, rubbing gently against the tip of his erection…

He spoke in a raspy growl. "It's killing me not to. My hips have a mind of their own. They want to push."

"Then push," she said, appreciating the consequences of such a remark, knowing she could be ruining everything-herself included-for he had made no promises.

But she wanted what she wanted. She wanted sex-with him-and she wanted it now. She wanted to belong to this man and no other, no matter the consequences.

He did not move. "If I do that, Rebecca-if I take you now-you will belong to me. No other man will ever have you or even look at you the way I look at you. Do you understand?"

Had he been reading her mind? It was exactly what she wanted. Exactly.

"I want no other man," she told him. "I've never wanted anyone but you."

It was the truth, every single word, and right now, she didn't care if he married her or not. She didn't care about what she was running from, only that she was here in his arms. Nothing mattered but the blinding, searing passion in her heart, and the love-was it really love? — in the deepest realms of her soul.

He was breathing hard. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest.

Never taking his eyes off hers, he slowly began to exert pressure, but it seemed she would not let him inside. He was too big. She could not possibly accommodate him, even though she wanted to. Lord, how she wanted to.

"Relax and push against me," he said, "with the muscles inside you."

She tried to concentrate on the workings of her body while his strength and power over her made her want him all the more. He was a hero, a warrior. He could do anything, and she wanted to give him everything she was as a woman.

She closed her eyes and did as he suggested, pushing until he began to stretch and fill her. It hurt for a moment, and she sucked in a breath. Then a new kind of joy swept through her. The pain gradually diminished. He began driving in and out of her, growling with pleasure just as she'd always imagined he would.

He sank his fingers into the cheeks of her behind, lifting her so he could compel himself deeper, and she began to grind her hips around, wanting more and more of his triumphant, male form.

He bore down on her again, his body slick with sweat, the rippling sensations of pleasure playing lustily into her depths. The sensations were feverish and intoxicating. Her emotions were spinning and whirling. It was everything she'd imagined it would be.