The flame of desire, which had been somewhat dampened by the tedious ceremony and beingwatchedby everyone so intently, came soaring back, delighted.
Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. She leaned back against his firm, solid body, closing her eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. The bouquet slipped from her loose fingers, landing with a softshushon the thickly carpeted floor. The bouquet released a powerful herby scent, and she breathed in deeply.
“Ye smell of lavender,” Thomas whispered, his lips hovering behind her ear.
“That’ll be the lavender,” she responded, smiling. “I spent a lot of time rolling around in the woods, ye see.”
“I’d love to join ye sometime.”
She giggled at that, reaching up and behind herself to cup his chin.
“I don’t think we’d gather enough herbs to please Delphine if ye came with me. What’s worse, ye might roll around and crush them.”
“Crush them! I am not that heavy.”
“Oh, ye are.”
“Only becauseyeare as light as a feather.”
Emma snorted. “I amnot. Actually, I—”
She was cut off by Thomas sweeping her off her feet without warning, hauling her effortlessly into his arms. She gave a squeak of surprise, flinging her arms around his shoulders to steady herself.
“I wish ye would give me some warning!” she said breathlessly.
Thomas cackled. “Then I ought to warn ye that ye are about to know what it feels like to fly.”
“Wait, wait….”
He tossed her easily into the air, and she landed on the pile of quilts on the bed. She gave a squeal, sinking further down into the soft opulence than seemed possible.
Thomas leaned over her, suddenly hesitant. He reached down, his fingertips grazing her jawline.
“Ye know, some people are saying that ye are a witch, and ye have cursed me?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Aye, they’re the ones that think water flows uphill.”
He chuckled. “Good point. Still, I sometimes think they have a point. Since the moment I met ye, I’ve thought of nothing but ye. It’s intoxicating.”
She reached up, curling her hands around his shoulders and pulling him down. Desire arced through her, powerful andwanting.
“Ye think I cursed ye to love me?”
“If ye did, I hope it never breaks.”
Thomas leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was soft at first, then grew more passionate, more hungry. He climbed onto the bed, supporting his weight on his elbows. Emma wanted moreof it. She wanted his weight on her, pressing her down into the impossibly soft mattress beneath them. A fur rested against her cheek, deliciously velvety and smooth. She slid a hand down his spine, picking out the curve and shift of muscles underneath.
“We’ll have to be careful of yer dress,” Thomas said, his voice almost a growl in her ear. “I’m not sure I can get ye back into it. We’ll have to go slow, I’m afraid, my side still hurts.”
Emma giggled. “Never mind that. We’ll go as slow as ye like. Don’t worry.”
He grinned at that, shaking his head. She felt him smile against her neck. “Very generous of ye, Butterfly.”
The old nickname sent such a spasm of heat and wanting through her that she thought she couldn’t breathe for a full minute.
His hands were everywhere, soft and warm and intoxicating. They slid over the curve of her breasts, making her breath shudder. When she felt his fingertips ghost up the skin of her thigh, she gave a little sigh, her fingers tangled in his hair. He reached the smooth linen of her undergarments, baggy white garments that were easily pulled down and pushed aside. She could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh, an insistent need that heightened her blood and made her ache more inside than she had ever considered possible. Her breath hitched in her throat, pleasure curling inside her.
Thomas’s lips grazed the line of her throat, and she arched her back, leaning into the sensations.
