“I will.” With my promise given, he nodded thoughtfully. His heated gaze dragged up and down my form, before meeting mine. Whatever he found there seemed to please him. He stalked toward the bed, caging me between his arms when he reached his mark. He hovered above me, surrounding me but not touching me. “Hugh?”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me.” In lieu of a response, his lips crashed onto mine. It seemed he was waiting only for the invitation. The kiss was a crash of lips and tongue and teeth. What it lacked in finesse it made up for in passion. The embers that had been smoldering beneath rushed back to life, a bonfire.
I wanted this man desperately.
His hands were everywhere, one tangled deep in my hair—surely a nest that I would never untangle. The other glided from jaw to hip to waist and back down to a thigh. My hands were no better behaved, tugging him impossibly closer, sliding down his shoulders and hips to cup his backside. It was every bit as firm and shapely as I had imagined.
At my squeeze he groaned and shifted me further onto the bed, half on top of me. I didn’t feel trapped; I felt powerful. Even from below, I could draw desperate moans and whimpers from this powerful man. The potential was exhilarating, I needed more: more kisses, more caresses, more groans and sighs.
At length I was forced to pull away, taking desperate gasps of air. He used the opportunity to follow his previous path down my neck, on the opposite side this time. Mouthing my jaw, tonguing my clavicle. I needed to feel him, more of him. It was my opportunity to explore the ridges and divots of his chest with eager hands. Far from disapproving, he whispered words of encouragement between kisses.
After a few moments of exploration, I turned my attention to his nipples, giving them the same treatment he offered mine before. He tolerated this for only a minute before catching my hands in his with a groan, pushing me back to the bed and pinning my wrists in one of his hands above my head. And heaven above,thatcaused a delightful feeling I didn’t fully understand.
It was immediately followed by more comprehensible feelings from his lips traveling down my chest. He tugged my nightdress to the side with his free hand, making his way to my breast, as promised.
His lips found my nipple and thought was gone. I was arching into him. My hands and hips pinned to the bed by his hand and hips and were the only things keeping me in this plane. His pleased chuckle rumbled through me, dragging me still higher. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak, and he seemed pleased with the result.
Hugh had involved his tongue and his teeth in driving me insane, slipping between one breast and the other. “You may have the single most magnificent pair of breasts in the world, and they are all for me to worship.”
His name escaped out in a strangled gasp which he answered with a shushing sound. Finally,finally, he released my hands, bracing himself with one while his mouth worked on my chest. The other slid down my waist, my hip, my thigh. Down, down, down, until he reached the hem of my nightdress.
I could do little more than fist one hand in his hair, the other dragging down his back, clinging to him. His mischievous hand was reversing course now, dragging the dress up.
It caught at my waist, and he pulled away, staring expectantly. Dimly I realized he was waiting for my thoughts to return, for me to confirm I still wanted it removed.Oh, I do.At my nod, he helped me free from the fabric prison.
Bare before him for the first time in our marriage, I forced myself to meet his gaze, rejecting the urge to cover myself. He hovered above me, taking in miles of skin. I fidgeted under the scrutiny, refusing to meet his gaze. It was a long moment while he studied me.
“Kate,” he breathed, cupping my cheek, “my Katie, you are without a doubt the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The compliment drew my eyes to his. He continued, “For nearly a year I’ve been married to the most exquisite creature on earth, and I have not told you nearly as often as I ought, how unbearably beautiful you are.” He tangled one hand in my hair, “rich as mahogany and softer than silk.” His hand then drew down to my face, catching on my lower lip, “sweet and full and delicate as a flower petal.” Then his lips brushed my eyelid, “so wide and kind and full of love. I do not deserve it, but I’ll take it anyway. You married a selfish man, Viscountess.”
“You do deserve it. And nothing about this feels selfish, Hugh.”
“I assure you it is, as I am taking unbelievable pleasure in exploring every delectable inch of you.”
Words escaped me, I was left to whimper instead.
“Shall I continue on the prescribed path?” At my nod he stood abruptly, prowling at the end of the bed. He lifted me gently to rest my legs on the floor beside him. Then he shocked me further still, kneeling before me.
I was exposed before him in a way I had never been before. As if sensing the rising tension, he rubbed comforting hands up and down my outer thighs. “Remember your promise?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Good.” That word was all the warning I received before he dragged both thighs over his impossibly broad shoulders.Oh, good lord.
Our plan was all well and good in theory but now he had me spread before him. I dropped my head to the bed, covering my eyes with the back of an arm. I could feel myself tensing against my will, nerves warring with embarrassment fighting for space amongst the unendurable vulnerability.
“Kate, look at me.” His voice sounded the way the scotch felt, sensual, warm, intoxicating, and I could do nothing but obey the warmth burning in my chest.
I propped myself up on one elbow to meet his gaze. It was even more obscene than it was in my mind. But his eyes… they were darker than I had ever seen them, just a shade up from black, molten. There was no hesitation in him. His mouth hovered just inches above my center, heated breath shifting my awareness from my nerves to something much, much more pleasant. “I love you,” he whispered.
Then he lowered his mouth, pressing a kiss low on my belly. Without so much as a warning, he parted my folds with one hand and dropped lower, licking a strip from bottom to top in one smooth motion.
It was… odd, not bad, but nothing like the ecstasy Jules described. Then he settled near the top.And, oh—that is nice.
He worked me gently, slowly, sensually. It took us a few moments to find the rhythm that worked best. It quickly eclipsed anything that had come before. There was a sense of something building, deep within. He dipped a finger inside me, joining the effort and there it was—the edge.
It was a precipice, and I was going to fall off it. It was inevitable at this point. My breath was ragged on the edges of my consciousness. The sounds Hugh was making were obscene and I could not possibly care less.
