Well, Ladies and Gents, here's the chapter where I earn that R rating.  Remember, if you're under 18, you shouldn't be reading this.  You have been warned…

Chapter Nine.

Darien's words slowly penetrated the hormonal haze enveloping Serena's mind. Not leaving? What was he… Oh.

The realization of what he was saying, coupled with the realization of what she herself had been doing only moments ago, jolted Serena's mind back into think mode. With a small gasp, she straightened and pushed herself back, away from the warm hands holding her close. Of course, seeing as she was settled rather precariously on Darien's lap, this meant that she slid immediately to the floor, knocking her head against the coffee table. "Ouch!"

"Serena!" Darien reached for her, concern evident on his face. "Are you okay?"

She knocked his hands away. "I . . . I'm fine. I'm just fine," she repeated, as much to herself as to him. "I'm okay." She pushed herself to her feet and walked quickly over to the window, placing as much distance as possible between her and the man she had, mere minutes before, been mindlessly groping. Her face was turning a bright red, and she looked away, out the window. Her glass globe spun smoothly on its string, and she silently watched its soothing colors.

"Serena, what's wrong?" Darien's tone forced her to look back at him. He stood beside the couch, puzzlement warring with frustration in his face.

Darien was very taken aback at the sudden change in the blond angel he wanted so very badly. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, but her eyes were wide and cold. One moment, she had been a seductress, the next this shaking icicle. He knew he hadn't misread the signals she had put out, but why the change? His loins ached, making it very difficult to think, but he forced his mind to switch back on.

"Serena, tell me what's wrong." He repeated his question, this time as a demand. When she only continued to stare at him wordlessly, those huge blue eyes of hers filled with emotions he couldn't read, he swore and crossed the room, grabbing her more roughly then he had intended in his frustration. "Damn it, I want you. I know you want me back, so what's wrong?"

"Darien, you're hurting me." Her voice was soft, trembling, and he swore again as he moved his grip and recognized the signs of forming bruises.

"I'm sorry." He immediately gentled his hold, rubbed his hands softly up and down her slim white arms. "I'm sorry, Serena. I don't want to hurt you." He switched his gaze from the marks to her azure eyes.

"I know that." The words were even softer; he had to strain to hear her. She worried her lip as she continued to look up at him. "I know you don't want to, but I'm afraid that you will anyway."

They stood there, staring into each other's eyes. Minutes, hours, years, Darien wasn't sure how much time had passed, and he really didn't care. There was something about this delicate young woman, about her beautiful spirit, heady cheerfulness, and fragile loveliness that called to him in ways he hadn't thought possible. It made him want to say things, promise things, that he had never offered another. Three words, short in length but infinite in their meaning, were on the tip of his tongue when she shivered and shattered the spell.

The tiny movement broke him free before he said those three words, and he shook his head, like a dog shaking off raindrops, to rid his mind of the mist that filled it.

"Darien, I think you should leave. Right now."

"What?!" Serena's request caught him off guard. "What are you talking about, Serena?" He reached for her, but she slipped free of his weak grasp and backed away from him. As her eyes met his again, a single emotion jumped out at him.

Serena was terrified. Not just nervous of going to bed with him. She was absolutely terrified. He didn't know what had brought on her current state, but he couldn't leave her like this. He swiftly switched tactics as she moved away.

"I want you to leave, Darien. I can't give you what you want. I can't do this again. I'm too afraid." Serena only dimly recognized that the words she heard were hers. Was that really her speaking? She was afraid of what Darien desired, of what he offered, and of what she herself desired and wanted to offer in return. "I can't do this again," she repeated, and the words trembled past her lips. She fought back the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment.

"Do what again? Make love?" Even with all that was flowing through her mind, Serena recognized the strength and patience with which Darien restrained himself as he spoke. "Serena, it's all right to be afraid, I promise. It could be so wonderful. I want to take you places, wonderful places." His voice had dropped to a soothing murmur, and she felt her racing, frightened heart begin to slow, lulled by the hypnotic tone.

When Darien took a slow step toward her, then another, she found herself unable to flee, caught up in the silky promises flowing from his lips. When he closed with her, and lifted one heavy hand to his lips, she could only stare as he brought her hand to his lips and placed one gentle kiss in its center. He reached out and softly stroked strands of golden hair away from her cheek. His blue eyes were soothing, so soothing, even with the spark of desire that set fire to their stormy depths. "Please, Serena. I won't hurt you. I only want to show you what it could be like. I want to make love to you."

That final sentence broke through the spell over her, through the fear and uncertainty. This was Darien. The man she had come to care for and trust. Why was she so afraid?

Taking her heart into her hands, Serena threw the remnants of her fear and caution to the winds, and launched herself at Darien. His strong arms caught her, held her against him passionately, as he rained kisses over her face. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you. I promise, Serena, I will make it wonderful for you." She cut his murmured endearances short as her lips found his, and she opened her mouth just enough for his tongue to slip inside. As he plundered her mouth, sliding his tongue in and out in a foreshadowing of what was to come, he swept her up into his arms and carried her from the room.

Moments later, Serena found herself deposited upon her bed, and she watched as Darien drew back to remove his jacket and bowtie. She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of a thing to say as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a smooth, muscular chest, so she simply watched.

"You're so beautiful," he said quietly.

"You make me feel beautiful." She held out her arms, and he slowly kneeled on the bed. "I'm nervous," she confessed for the second time that night. Had it really been only a few hours ago that she had stepped into the gallery? It seemed forever ago. "I can't help it. It's been-"

"Shhh. It's all right. It doesn't matter." He stopped her self-recriminations with another kiss, then reached up and slid the straps of her gown from her shoulders. His lips trailed delicate kisses where the thin strips of fabric had been. "So soft." He reached up and slowly removed the pins from her hair, allowing it to cascade over her shoulders and across the bed covers. "I've been wanting to do that all night. Your hair is so long. It sparkles like the moonlight. I couldn't decide whether you looked like an angel or a siren."

Darien's words soothed her nerves again, and she didn't protest when he reached behind her to slide the zipper of her dress down. She silently raised her arms and he pulled the shimmering fabric over her head and off her body.

"My god." Darien's mouth went dry as he took in the sight of her, naked but for a few swatches of black lace. There was no doubt now. She was a siren, and she had captured his heart. There was nothing more he could say, so he leaned over her, gently pushing her down onto the bed. They did nothing but exchange more of those sweet, heady kisses for a few minutes, but Darien found himself wanting more. Needing more. Bending his head, he used his teeth to pull one lacy bra cup away from a breast, and he fell upon the soft flesh as a starving man upon a feast. He suckled, he nibbled, he flicked her taunt nipple with his tongue.

Beneath him, Serena writhed under his ministrations. It felt so good. Nothing had ever felt this good before. She reached for him, but he pushed her hands away, pulling them up and holding them over her head. When she whimpered, he switched his attentions to the other breast, baring it as well with his teeth. His free hand crept downwards, trailing slowly, ever so slowly, over her stomach . . . abdomen . . . hip . . . until he laid his wide palm against her mound and pressed gently.

That simple touch sent her rearing up, fighting against the hand that held her as she struggled to breathe past the arousal closing her throat.

She was already wet. Darien fought against his own raging desire, determined to make this as pleasurable as possible for her. Still suckling on one nipple, he slipped his fingers beneath that last damp barrier of fabric and slid two fingers inside her. She was so tight, so warm and wet, and it proved his undoing. A desperate man could only take so much, and he was desperate for her.

He let go of her hands, and they rolled across the bed, pulling away the final remnants of clothing that barred them from each other. Serena wrapped one small hand around him, and he lost track of everything except for pure sensation. Pushing her down, he pulled her hands up and wrapped them around the headboard. "Hold on tight," he panted. With one strong thrust, he entered her, and she was so creamy and tight it took all of his strength not to come then and there.

Serena shrieked as he filled her, a sword to the hilt. She had not been a virgin for years, but never had a man fit her so perfectly, nor filled her so completely. Sensations assaulted her from every direction, and it was too much to hold in. She lifted her long legs and wrapped them around him, squeezing his narrow hips to her. As he began to thrust in and out, pumping into her more surely then a piston, she clenched around him and screamed as she fell over the edge.

Darien felt her climax, and he sucked in his breath at the storm of pleasure. Her eyes flew open, glazed and huge, to fix on his face. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but there was only another shuddering moan. He slowed his thrusts, and could feel as each stroke shivered through her. The next time she convulsed, he finally allowed himself to let go. Clutching her to him, he followed soon after.

***