She tipped up her chin. “You’ve already seen it down. When I fell in the pond it was almost completely undone.” But she reached up and unpinned her tea-colored mane, let it fall over her shoulders, spilling like a luscious waterfall.
It was glorious. “Yes, but this . . . this is different.” He took a seat on the bed, then reached out and laced his fingers through the thick softness of her hair, testing its weight. “Utterly beautiful.”
Her lips parted, and the resolve he’d had earlier melted like hot wax before the fire, and he leaned in, kissing her.
It was like a match to the flame, and his body demanded more, knowing that every restraint could be released and he could make love to her without hesitation, without guilt, with abandon.
He reached up and tugged at the fabric of her dress, removing the cap sleeve and caressing the soft skin of her shoulder. Trailing his fingertips across her collarbone, he felt her shudder beneath his touch. He swallowed her soft moan of pleasure as he trailed his fingertips down, caressing her soft breast through the fabric of her dress, coming to a startling realization.
He leaned back, his lips spreading into a wondrous grin.
Samantha met his gaze, her cheeks pinking. “Liliah didn’t tell me much, but she did mention that . . . well, that less is more.”
“How much less?” he asked, his imagination coming up with a thousand delightful and erotic answers.
“Much, much less,” she answered, her color deepening with the confession.
“Good Lord,” he groaned, then guided her gently down so that she was reclining on the bed and, rather than press into her, melting his body into hers, he leaned beside her, pulling her into his embrace as he gave his hands over to the exploration of her deliciously, scandalously nearly naked body. Belatedly, he thought it was a good think he’d not known about her lack of undergarments earlier; he wouldn’t have survived the wedding or breakfast afterward. The knowledge alone would have burned his desire to ashes. As it was, his greedy hands trailed along the indentation of her hips, caressing the perfect curve of her buttocks, his body going painfully hard and insistent with every touch. But it was the sweetest of tortures, and like a madman, he was enjoying the punishment of endurance.
Her breathing was quick, and would hitch ever so slightly when he touched a sensitive area. He mentally made notes when she did so, remembering how she loved a kiss to the hollow of her neck, and a slight brush to her now-taut nipple. He cupped her, squeezed gently, and finally, when he couldn’t resist the temptation of it all, trailed kisses down her neck and to the sensitive collarbone that had first distracted him. He kissed along the line of the bone, his hands spanning her hips, pulling her in as tightly as he could while still enjoying the access to her delicate skin.
He trailed lower, kissing every piece of flesh his lips graced, and he reached up, tugging down the surprisingly flexible fabric to expose her breast. He gave a gentle nip, then licked, grinning devilishly when she nearly bucked her hips from the bed, gasping with pleasure. Her hands gripped his hair, tugging in the most delicious way.
He needed her, every part, and with a reluctant kiss good-bye to each breast, he withdrew and stood beside the bed, basking in the lover’s glow that radiated from Samantha’s flushed face. She regarded him with a half-drunk expression, and he knew her body was feeling the same need, the same burning desire that was roaring within him.
He quickly disrobed, tossing his clothes to the side, along with his boots. Samantha’s eyes widened as he removed every hindrance between them, watching in wide-eyed wonder.
“Good Lord,” she murmured.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You’re beautiful,” she said, as if it were a shock to her.
“You’re surprised.” He grinned, striding toward her, then putting a knee on the bed in pursuit of his beautiful wife.
“I’m pleased,” she whispered, kissing him gently, enticingly, searchingly. He released her from the kiss, leaning back just enough to speak. “I want to see you.”
He met her gaze, watching as understanding dawned. She moved to stand, and he allowed her to move from his grasp, his body already missing the contact like a phantom limb.
“No,” he whispered. “I want to do it.” He followed her, and as she turned to give him her back, he started on the few buttons that held her dress in place. It was like unwrapping the most-anticipated birthday present. He placed a kiss to each inch of skin exposed, and soon the dress pooled at her feet.
And she was correct in her words; there was much, much less than ladies usually wore under their dresses.
In fact, there was nothing.
The fabric had been just thick enough to hide her delicate curves, but it had been the only garment she wore, aside from her slippers.
Bloody hell, he could kneel and worship every curve of her skin, his body mapping every delight it held. He kissed her shoulder in reverence, and she shivered.
Grinning, he knew exactly how to remedy the chill.
He tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. Her gaze fixed on his chest, refusing to look up as he took in the view of her round breasts and beautiful form. He could feel the trembling in her body, so he lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her softly.
It seemed she only needed the slightest amount of encouragement, because she leaned in to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. He picked her up once more, only this time he didn’t throw her on to the bed in play; he laid her down on the bed in seduction. Covering every inch of her body with his, he groaned as his most insistent part met her most coveted. He deepened the kiss, pressing into her, but not enough. With her, it would always be a sweet temptation, one he would refuse only long enough to build up the moment.
“Are you ready for me?” he whispered against her lips, then devoured them, not giving her a chance to reply. He needed her desperately; with every fiber of his being, he wanted to claim her, own her, fill her.
Her answering kiss gave the final spark to destroy his self-control, and he slid carefully inside her, a hiss coming from his lips at the tight squeeze. It was ecstasy, almost too much pleasure to experience. She gave a soft gasp and tensed, but as she relaxed, he pressed in further, till the proof of her innocence was broken and she was marked as his.
