His mouth slanted over hers brutally, hurting her, making her gasp out a protest against his bruising lips. He paid no heed to her cry, forcing her back over his arm so that her head was wedged against the unyielding strength of his shoulder. His arms around her were like steel bands, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. She had to clutch at his shoulder with the hand that was not trapped between them or lose her balance entirely. The heat of that satin-sheathed muscle seared her palm.
The fury of his kiss forced open her mouth. His tongue penetrated deep inside with none of the gentle wooing he had shown her earlier. He took her mouth, forced it to his will, used it ruthlessly. His tongue met the feeble protest of hers and conquered it without mercy. Then he staked his claim to the whole of the warm wet cave with a ferocity that made her tremble. The violence of the sexuality he had so suddenly unleashed frightened her. Clutching him, suffering that savage kiss, Lilah felt the world spin around her and feared she might swoon. Then he shifted his hold on her, loosening his fierce grip by the merest of degrees so that she was again able to get her breath.
His hand closed over her left breast.
Lilah gasped and started, feeling the heat and strength of that hand burn clear through the thin material of her dress and chemise to her skin. Her nipple puckered, hardened against his palm, sending a shaft of pure fire straight to her loins. The sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her eyes flew open. Instinctively she fought to free herself.
His kiss deepened savagely, and his hand remained on her breast, caressing her, searing her skin like a brand. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned, no longer struggling to get free. Her nails curled into the flesh of his shoulder, but not in punishment.
His hand moved upward to the satiny arch of her neck. He stroked the bare skin, then, without warning, slid his hand down. His fingers thrust inside her bodice, and the much-put-upon muslin gave with a soft ripping sound. His hand closed over her soft breast, and Lilah cried out as her knees gave way.
He caught her, lowering her with utmost gentleness to the ground. She lay quivering, helpless to do anything but stare up at him through the shifting darkness as he knelt wordlessly beside her, his hands sliding behind her back to find the buttons to her gown. He undid one, then another, then a third, quickly, efficiently, with a controlled savagery that made her heart shiver in her breast. Even if she had wanted to protest, she could not have. She was incapable of making a sound, incapable of making a move to help or hinder him. Her blood boiled within her, her limbs trembled, and a fierce need built up inside her to match the savage hunger she read in his face.
Whatever he was going to do to her, however he was going to do it, she wanted it. She wanted him. She felt as if she could die from the wanting.
He had her dress unbuttoned and pulled it down to her waist, not bothering to first free her arms from her sleeves. The unfastened bodice bound her elbows to her sides, increasing the sense of helplessness that both frightened and thrilled her.
Beneath the dress she wore only her chemise. The thinness of the primly pin-tucked garment provided scarcely more than a tantalizing veil over the nakedness of her breasts. As her nipples thrust against the white cloth, Joss growled under his breath. Then he reached out with fingers that suddenly were less than steady to yank her chemise down to just beneath her breasts, baring the satiny white globes to his touch and view.
For a long moment he stared without moving, the shifting moonlight behind him casting his head in dark silhouette and making it impossible for Lilah to read the expression on his face. As he looked down at her she felt her breasts swell and tighten, causing an ache inside her that was both pleasure and pain. The sudden quickening in her loins drew a soft, wordless murmur from her. In an instinctive movement as old as woman, her back arched and she offered her breasts to him. He sucked in his breath, the sound ragged and harsh. Then, the movement so swift it startled her, he was coming down on top of her, lying on her, his weight crushing her into the thick dusty carpet of vines and mulch and leaves. There was a rock beneath her spine and she shifted her hips to get away from it.
The movement seemed to inflame him. His arms wrapped around her back, crushing her to him. His mouth closed over hers, and he kissed her with a fierceness that drew a small impassioned cry from her. The wiry mat of hair on his chest was abrasive against her breasts. They burned, and she trembled violently. He must have felt her response because all his muscles hardened. For just a moment he went rigid, then reached down for her skirt with both hands, jerking it up until it was wadded around her waist. She was left naked from the waist down while he moved atop her, still clad in the coarse black breeches. Lilah barely had time to register the feel of him against her before he was wedging a thigh between her legs, fumbling with the buttons on his breeches at the same time. Before she knew what was happening he was shoving himself against her, inside her. She murmured a small protest, moving her head from side to side, writhing as she sought to escape this sudden unexpected discomfort. But with her arms pinioned by her bodice and her legs spread wide by his thighs, escape was impossible. He thrust against her, hurting her. Even as she cried out he was thrusting again, breaking through the barrier, burying himself deep inside.
The pain was startling, knifelike in its intensity. Lilah screamed, the sound swallowed up by his mouth. Then he moved again, convulsively, stretching her, filling her. Through the pain she felt him, huge and hot and moving inside her, and all at once she forgot the pain, forgot everything but the exquisite pleasure that swept away all before it.
He thrust again, so deep this time that she feared being split in two. She gasped, her hips grinding against his in his urgent, instinctive response. The wonderful quickening inside her exploded, splintering into a shimmering whirlwind of shapes and textures and colors. Lilah cried out, quivering. Joss cried out too, thrusting one final time before wrapping his arms tight around her and holding himself deep inside her.
For a few moments afterwards they lay unmoving, entwined together, collecting their thoughts along with their breath. Then without warning Joss stiffened, lifting himself partially off her. His face was deep in shadows, the moon a silvery glow high overhead. Lilah could not decipher his expression, did not even try to. She did not speak either, but looked up at him in a sort of dreamy wonder that was beyond words. Her eyes were shining softly as they moved over his face. One slender hand came up to touch, slide down over his tensed forearm.
At that small touch Joss swore, the words harsh and shockingly profane. He rolled off her and got to his feet. Lilah struggled up on her elbows, calling out to him as he strode off into the darkness of the forest, barely taking time to yank his breeches up around his waist as he disappeared into the night.