He placed his hands on his hips and gave her a displeased look. A man could only take so much… description.
“Oliver.” She took a step towards him.
“Lisbeth,” he replied, holding up a hand to stop her from advancing or, horror of horrors, describing further.
She sighed and flashed her eyes at him. “Fine, it is not lovely.”
That’s my girl, he thought.
“In fact it is rather… cylindrical.”
Cylindrical? Oh, please.“That will be enough of that—ever. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?”
She nodded and put her hand on his chest, curling her fingers into his chest hair.
“I can’t help seeing that this situation is very lopsided,” he said. “Besides, I am getting damn chilly standing here like one of Elgin’s marbles.”
“You certainly seem made of marble,” she said, moving her fingertips lightly over his pectoral muscles. He made them dance up and down and she laughed. He loved it when she laughed. He wanted to make her laugh forever.
“I’ve seen the statue of David, you know. When I was thirteen, our parents took Marie and me to Florence for the summer. I loved Italy—the art, the music—but I don’t think my parents knew what we were in for when we visited theGalleria dell’Accademia.My mother nearly fainted.”
“So, now I look like David?”Could this get any worse?
“Heavens no, you are much more… impressive.”
He burst out laughing and reached for her. “Cheeky baggage! Later you may tutor me in Italian sculpture but for now let us correct this imbalance immediately. I do believe I have a few poetic descriptions of my own to make.” He turned her around and began undoing her gown. She laughed again when he cursed at the number of buttons and tabs he found as each layer was revealed.
“There had better not be some kind of medieval chastity belt under here. A man can only perform so many miracles in one night, you know,” he growled into her ear.
She laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, you seem to be capable of many miraculous things.”
“I do have a trick or two up my sleeve, and the night is young.”
Then he kissed her from just under her ear to the point of her shoulder, pushing her chemise down her arms at the same time. He marveled at the softness of her skin, the smell of her, the taste of her. Goose bumps rose on her skin where his lips had been. He nipped and licked the slender column of her neck.
“Oh, that’s nice. That is very, very nice,” she said, with a shaky quiver in her voice.
He liked the way her body reacted to him. Half-undressed like this, she could not hide from him. She could not say she did not want him, did not need him, as he needed her. The evidence was all over her curvaceous body, in the delectable rosy hue that stained her flesh. He could smell her arousal mingled with a subtle hint of roses and lemon drops. It was a scented net set to tempt him. She needed no such traps to snare him. Tonight he gave himself up willingly.
His heart sped up considerably at the sight of her breasts as he exposed them to his gaze. Her nipples puckered in the cool air. He had held her magnificent breasts before, in the darkness of Selbourne’s armoire, but seeing was so much better. He sent a quick thank you towards the heavens that he had not been blinded while at war. Then he placed his hands on them. They fit perfectly in his large hands, and he squeezed them with the reverence they deserved. He paid homage to them, licking and sucking until Lisbeth was gasping.
She was better than pudding, he decided, which was a bizarre thought considering the circumstancesandconsidering how much he loved pudding! He banished such ridiculous thoughts in quick order. He had a beautiful woman in his arms and a hunger that could only be satisfied by her.
Lisbeth could feel his restraint in every muscle she touched. She’d known he would be magnificent when she beheld him naked but nothing could have prepared her for the truth of him at the ready.
Earlier she had panicked before she’d had a chance to rationalize her thoughts. Panicked at the sheer size of him. Thoughts of Nathaniel had come flooding back unbidden. There had been no tenderness in her husband. No care for tender flesh and virginal sensibilities. He had used her like a common doxyand then left her to sob in fear and confusion while he snored his head off in the next room.
Oliver was kissing her eyelids. Her eyelids! What had she expected him to do? Do as Nathaniel had? Throw her on the bed, rip the clothes from her body, and roughly slap and bruise her until she cried? No, he was definitely not Nathaniel, and she was glad of it. Looking at him now as he smiled at her, his eyes at half-mast as he leaned down to take her lips again, there was little resemblance between Oliver and her husband. Nathaniel had worn his height like a sword, forever ready to strike those smaller than himself. She had seen power in Oliver too, but his was of the protective kind. Nathaniel’s eyes had been dark, cold, uncaring, whereas Oliver’s were light, warm, and full of humor. She worried about the things she didn’t see in his eyes, the things he was holding back from her. He’d said he would not hurt her, and she believed him. He might drive her crazy, but he would not hurt her willingly.
He made her feel things that scared her. This desire was new to her, this wanton fire that spread through her body with every touch of his lips, every caress of his masterful hands, every hungry look he gave her. She wanted him.
Love me!She could feel the words forming in her throat.
Love me!It pulsed from her with every beat of her heart.
Love me, please,her soul implored.
Yet she said nothing, too much the coward to say the words her whole being wanted to scream.
