“Not a fucking chance.”
“What?” She had never heard a man swear in her presence. Was he angry? Maybe he felt cheated. Was he already regretting bedding her?
“I want to see every luscious curve. I want to feast my eyes upon you.”
The next instant, his big hands went to the edge of the towel, his gaze holding her captive as he dragged it down. The towel dropped to the floor, revealing her huge breasts and the rest of her. She knew what he would see. A soft, rounded stomach, hips that flared too wide. Thick, dimpled thighs. And that was only from the front. From the back, her arse was grotesquely big. She turned her face to the side and closed her eyes. Too afraid to see his expression.
But when a few seconds ticked by with barely a response, she dared to peek at his face, and what she saw entranced her. There was pure undisguised lust in his eyes. Even as inexperienced as she was, she could identify the emotion.
His big hands cradled her breasts reverently and lifted them. Then he dipped his head and buried his face in the crevice of her decolletage, drowning a groan so feral it made her center go liquid with want. He glided his tongue up the line between her breasts, then rubbed his cheek in the pillowy softness, chafing her delicate skin.
She would have abrasions in the morning. But she didn’t mind. She wanted him to mark her. To leave signs of his possession. She might never have another man as magnificent as this one willing to make love to her.
“I love your breasts. I want to kiss them, bite them, suck them until you scream for mercy. Tell me, my muse, how does this feel?” And he closed his lips over her nipple and pulled.
The sensation that shot from that point to her core was so powerful that a shocked moan escaped her mouth. Her knees buckled, and she had to hold on to his shoulders to keep her balance.
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he said as his strong arms circled her, supporting her. “I wonder if I can make you come just from sucking your nipples?” he mused. “It would be a fairexchange since I want to fuck your breasts, and I think I could come just from that.”
“What?” She didn’t know what he was talking about, but it sounded naughty. And oddly arousing.
He smiled tenderly. Or as tenderly as this hard, uncompromising man was capable of. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry. You are such an alluring temptress that I keep forgetting how inexperienced you are.”
Was he mocking her? Her ears flamed, and she knew she was turning scarlet.
“I’m sorry that all the men you have met until now were such unmitigated fools that they didn’t appreciate the beauty hidden beneath your frumpy gowns. But I can’t be sorry to be the first one to discover it. I feel like a fucking conqueror arriving in uncharted paradise. My bollocks are about to explode just thinking about all the ways I want to have you.”
She didn’t know how to reply to that. Her vocabulary did not include appropriate responses for the carnality in his voice.
“The things I will do to you...” he went on, as if thinking aloud. “I’ll leave no inch of your body unexplored. I’m going to take you in every single way known to man. I will debauch you so thoroughly, my muse.”
Her mouth had gone dry, and she moistened her lips with her tongue. He groaned.
“Oh, don’t do that.”
He took her mouth in an almost violent kiss. His mouth conquering, claiming, and then plundering hers. She had the urge to do the same. Her teeth closed over his ridiculously lush lower lip, and he groaned, grinding his pelvis into her. The hard ridge of his erection was unmistakable, burning hot, branding her; the fabric of his trousers arousing against her nakedness.
Finally tearing his mouth from hers, he rasped, “You are a tempting minx. Did you know that?”
She shook her head. In all her life, nobody had called her tempting anything.
“You are. And the crazy thing is you don’t know it. You are not even doing it on purpose. God help me if you ever learn to seduce.”
His hands roamed her body, from her shoulders, all the way down her back to cup her overabundant bum. Why had she allowed him to do this? Except, nobodyallowedthis man to do anything. He just took it. Like a conqueror. Would he let her preserve any modesty?
Apparently not. Taking her hands, he gently pried them away from her body. Revealing her in all her naked imperfection. She closed her eyes in mortification. He was an artist. Used to feminine grace and beauty. The statues she had seen all had lithe bodies and perfect proportions. Unlike her.
Never in her life had she wanted to have a slim, elegant body more than at this moment. She wanted to be perfect for this man. Because his body was perfect. He was perfect. But his next move surprised a squeal out of her.
He went down on one knee and kissed the patch of dark auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs. Then ran his tongue up the crease between her thighs and her hips. The caress surprised a ticklish chuckle out of her, and he smiled, pleased.
“Oh, my muse. You are magnificent. Your body was made for love. It is a shame to cover such perfection with clothes. I want to sculpt you like this.” The side of his mouth hitched in an amused smile.
“Although, on second thought, displaying you thus would surely cause a riot. And I wouldn’t want any other man to see your naked body. Your beauty is for my eyes only.” He rose smoothly, running his hands possessively over her torso.
“You are teasing me. Nobody is going to riot over me. Nobody ever paid any attention to me, other than to mock me.”
“That, my dear, is about to change.”
