He kissed her again, and this time there was more heat in his touch. Madeline wound her arms around his shoulders, allowinghim to guide her backward so that she lay on her back on the sofa. He rested his weight on her, pinning her down onto the cushions. After a moment, Tristan paused, lifting up onto his elbows.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, “I am getting carried away. I’ll crush you.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Madeline…”
“You won’t crush me,” she insisted staunchly. “I trust you, Tristan. I do.”
He stared down at her for a long moment, lifting a hand to trail down the side of her face.
“Very well,” he said at last. “No risk of a baby. Not yet. I promise.”
She smiled faintly. “I thought you were afraid of being too carried away to control yourself?”
“Believe me, I am,” he muttered darkly, and leaned down to kiss her again.
Madeline melted into the kiss, closing her eyes and letting sensations wash over her. She could smell the faint scent of mintcoming off Tristan, and she swore that she could almost taste it on his lips. Could he taste lavender on hers? She would ask him later.
His hands trailed up and down her body, sliding over the curves of her breasts in a quick, tantalizing sort of way. Madeline wondered vaguely whether she should offer to let him unlace her gown at the back, but decided against it. The re-lacing would be a nightmare, after all.
His weight against her felt thrillingly wonderful, the pressure intensifying the pulse of desire in her gut. Tristan pulled back, and Madeline pouted at the loss of his warmth. He shrugged off his coat, tossing it carelessly aside, and slid up the crumple of her skirts to bunch around her waist.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Madeline,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again.
“Hardly,” she mumbled.
He grinned, plucking her spectacles off her face and carefully setting them aside. He kissed her once more on the side of the neck and slid down her body. Madeline propped herself up on her elbows, curious.
As before, he slid his hands up her thighs before tracing a finger against the join of her legs, sending a pulse of pleasure shooting through her. The touch was gentle, almost tentative, and Madeline chewed her lower lip.
I want more,she thought,but I am not sure how to ask for it. I do not even know what I am askingfor.
He glanced up, met her eyes, and dropped a wink. Then he leaned forward, briefly kissing the inside of her thigh, and before she could recover from the thrill ofthatsensation, he placed his mouth against her core, almost as if he were kissing her. She gasped aloud, her hand slapping over her mouth.
He licked a long, slow stripe up against the join between her legs, and she trembled. He reached up to take her hand away from her mouth.
“You are always trying to keep yourself quiet,” he murmured, sounding almost disappointed. “Not this time.”
He made no move to touch her again, and Madeline let out a wobbly sort of moan. Was he just going to leave her lying there? Was he not going tofinishit?
Tristan sat back on his heels, and his hands dropped to the placket of his trousers. She could see a bulge there and watched, mesmerized, as he unfastened his trousers.
Now, Madelinehadseen a few sketches of a man’s member, mostly in biological textbooks, which were kept far away from women. Tristan’s member seemed to fit the sketches very well, except for one small concern…
“It’s very big,” Madeline mumbled nervously.
“It will not hurt,” he promised.
She nodded, and he leaned forward to kiss her again. There was a strange taste on his tongue, and Madeline realized with a jolt that it wasof herself. His weight pressed her into the sofa, not enough to crush the breath out of her, but certainly enough to keep her in place as he reached between them, his fingers ghosting over her entrance.
He kissed the side of her neck, and pleasure fluttered through her once more. Madeline closed her eyes and let out a half-gasped moan, clutching at his shoulders.
He pushed his way into her with care, slowly and almost luxuriously. The sensation was odd, taking her a moment or two to adjust. Madeline opened her eyes when he went still and noticed that there was a frown between his brows.
“Are you well?” she whispered, reaching up to press the pad of her thumb against the frown line.
“Well? Heavens, woman, I am fighting not to lose control entirely,” he muttered, chuckling.
