“I know.”
“We’re being practical, sharing limited resources. This is a practical arrangement.”
“Very practical.”
Neither of us believed it for a second. The air between us didn’t just crackle; it hummed, alive and dangerous and full of unspoken words I ached to hear.
Maybe he moved first, or maybe I did. Maybe we both did, drawn together by a force more powerful than logic or practicality. It didn’t matter. One moment we were standing apart, and the next his hand was cupping my jaw and his mouth met mine.
This was not the gentle, questioning kiss from our sitting area. This was a starving man finding a feast. It was desperate and hungry, a raw claiming. His lips were firm and demanding, and a groan rumbled in his chest as I kissed him back with all my pent-up tension.
He backed me until the door pressed against my spine, trapping me. His body molded against mine, a wall of heat and muscle and want. My magic, that unruly extension of my soul, erupted.
A gale-force wind whipped through the cottage, snatching at the quilt on the bed and sending loose papers flying like frantic birds. Snowflakes swirled in the chill, melting against my overheated skin. A flash of lightning cracked near the ceiling, illuminating his face for a split second—his eyes closed, his expression one of agonizing pleasure.
His hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. I latched onto the front of his tunic and pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, from hungry to ravenous. A sound tore from my throat, something between a gasp and a moan. He answered with a ragged groan against my mouth.
Every rational thought fled.There was only this. Only the intoxicating taste of him, the solid strength of his body pinning me to the door, the calloused scrape of hands on my nape, my arms, my sides.
Finally, he lifted his head, studying my face. “I’m going to take you to bed now, Adele.”
“Yes, please.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
RAOUL
Ilifted her into my arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist like she’d always belonged there.
The bed was only a few steps away, but I took my time crossing the small space, kissing her the entire way. Her mouth was sweet and hungry, and every small sound she made shot straight to my groin.
When I reached the bed, I set her on her feet and stepped back enough to see her face in the moonlight.
“I want to see you,” I said, my voice rough. “All of you.”
Her breath hitched, and snow began falling around us again, soft flakes that melted against our heated skin.
When she nodded, I reached for the hem of her tunic. She raised her arms, and I pulled the fabric up and over her head, tossing it aside.
She stood wearing a simple undergarment covering her breasts and her fitted pants. I’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
“You’re lovely,” I said, trailing my fingers down her throat, across her collarbone, watching goosebumps rise. “Do you know that? Simply lovely.”
“Raoul—”
“I’ve wanted this.” I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Wanted you.” Another kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Since the moment you stormed up to me dressed in your wedding gown and started talking about thermal air currents.”
Her laugh turned into a gasp as I slipped off her undergarment. The moonlight painted her skin silver, and I could only stare.
“Beautiful,” I said, cupping her breasts, feeling her nipples harden against my palms. “So damn beautiful.”
I lowered my head and took one peaked nipple into my mouth. She cried out, her hands flying to my hair, gripping hard. I lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, using my tongue and teeth until she was trembling.
“I love the sounds you make,” I said against her skin. “I want to hear every single one.”
I knelt, pressing kisses down her belly as I worked on the fastenings of her pants. She steadied herself with hands on my shoulders, her breathing coming fast and shallow.
“Step out,” I said, holding the waistband as she did like I’d asked.
