She caressed his scarred cheek, love for him blossoming so big and beautiful and true it left her transformed. “You have just described the noblest man I know. And I would be honored to be your wife. To be Mrs. Clayton Ludlow. There is nothing I want more.”
His lips found hers. He kissed her with such slow, gentle tenderness she ached. A sound of need emerged from her throat. Her senses were awash with him, her heart filled with love. He told her without words how much he loved her. How much he needed her.
She opened for him, their tongues invading each other’s mouths, and their kisses turned deeper. More demanding. Her hands were in his hair, traveling the broad, sculpted planes of his shoulders, claiming him everywhere she could. Desperation gradually superseded their leisurely explorations. Kissing became insufficient.
Wet heat pooled between her thighs where she throbbed for him. Every part of him was hers, and she wanted it all, and she wanted it now. His scar. His mouth. His beautiful body. His dark hair. The blade of his nose. The abrasion of his whiskers. His tongue.
The hard, long length of his cock jutting against her belly.
She couldn’t resist stroking him as they kissed, fingers curling about his thick erection. An answering pang settled deep in her core. He growled into her mouth, and she tightened her grip, the soft silk of his dressing gown aiding her movements as she worked him the way she knew he liked. She had not forgotten.
But like their frantic kisses, caressing him with a barrier of fabric keeping her from his smooth, hot skin left her aching for more. She wanted to worship him as he had her, to give him mindless pleasure. To show him with her body just how completely she loved him.
Feeling bold, she released his shaft, gripping the knot of the belt on his dressing gown instead. She tipped her head back to look up at him. His eyes were dark, pupils obsidian, his expression more relaxed than she had seen it in as long as she could recall. His breathing was ragged.
Good.
“Come,” she said simply, taking a step backward, in the direction of her bed. The word was not a question or an invitation so much as it was an order. She tugged him along with her, and he followed.
How she reveled in the power she had, capable of making this hulking, fierce warrior, this mountain of a man, do what she wished. His gaze never left hers as she pulled him to where she wanted him.
“Get on the bed,” she said softly. Having him at her mercy gave her a new, intense sense of pleasure, heightening every tiny pulse of desire inside her into a wild flame.
“Ara,” he protested, and she could not be certain if it was because he was so accustomed to being the one in command or if it was because he suspected her intentions.
She changed her mind. “Take off your robe first. I want to see you.”
And she did. His body was glorious, huge, and masculine. She had seen it many times, but she could never admire him enough. He was beautiful, and she was feeling brazen. She had never felt more powerful, more desired, or more alive.
She wanted more.
She wanted Clay naked on her bed. She wanted to kiss and lick him everywhere, to taste him, to pleasure him with her mouth the same way he had done to her. She wanted everything, to make him lose himself.
“Ara.” Once more, he attempted to take control of the moment.
But she was relishing her power far too much. She was so wet, so hungry for him, that if he stroked her pearl but once, she would spend. She wanted to prolong the intensity and the desire.
“Off,” she insisted, pulling on the end of his belt. “Do it, Clay.”
His eyes burning into hers, he did as she bid, pulling the belt open and shrugging his dressing gown from his wide shoulders. It fell to the carpet almost soundlessly. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, every part of him. Well-muscled shoulders, broad chest, strong arms. Even his abdomen was hewn perfection. His cock rose thick and long and hard. Thedespicable thinginside her returned tenfold.
Good, sweet heavens.
“Get on the bed,” she demanded.
He reached for her but she stepped away, enjoying this far too much. “On the bed, Clay.”
“I want to touch you, love.”
The smile she gave him was wicked and she knew it. “You will. Just do as I ask, please.”
His smoldering gaze never leaving hers, he lowered his large frame onto the center of her bed. With a deep breath, she untied the knot on her dressing gown as well. It fell from her in a silken whisper. And then she joined him on the bed, making a place for herself between his legs.
Her gaze fell upon his cock. Dipping her head, she kissed the broad tip once. Twice. Flicked her tongue over the slit, hungry to taste him. His groan rewarded her along with the taste of him on her tongue.
“Bloody hell, Ara. There is no need…you do not have to…”
His words trailed off as she grew more adventurous and sucked him the way he had done to her pearl. Just once, testing, to see if the effect was the same for him. His hips jerked, driving his cock deeper into her mouth.
