“You do not like that?”
He shrugged, amazed that they were having such a conversation and yet mightily stirred by it. “I believe there are places that do not appreciate a nip as well as others.”
Again she smiled. “It is tender then, despite its appearance of power?”
“The tip is so,” Amaury ceded. “Much like a tip of your own.”
“I have no tip.”
“That would be most uncommon. All ladies have a point of utmost sensitivity, and when it is caressed, the prospect of union is less concerning.”
She moved ever so slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and her hip collided with his erection. Even through their garments and his hauberk, Amaury was keenly aware of her soft curves.
He might have wagered that Isabella was as well. “Is that why I feel a heat in this moment?”
“Perhaps so.” He let his gaze sweep over her, returning to meet hers again. “Perhaps we should verify these details for certain.”
She smiled shyly. “Aye. It seems we talk overmuch for those with a task before them.”
“Aye,” Amaury agreed, then replaced his thumb with his lips, his mouth closing over hers with gentle surety. He did not claim her, but coaxed her, his caress cajoling and more persuasive and patient than he might have believed himself capable.
He wished to offer an invitation, an invitation to share pleasure with him in their union. He might have simply taken what was owed to him, with no care for her view or hopes, but Amaury wanted more. With this kiss, he proposed a meeting of equals.
To his satisfaction, Isabella hesitated only a moment before raising her hands to his shoulders. She leaned against him, choosing to participate, and opened her mouth to him. Amaury angled his mouth over hers, deepening his kiss in relief. His arms locked securely around her, holding her captive against his chest – and truly, when Isabella sighed with delight, he thought he might never let her go.
CHAPTER 5
Isabella had never been kissed by a man before this day, and Amaury’s kisses made her realize how much she had been missing. They also made her yearn for more. She wanted to feel his hands upon her body. She wanted to locate that mysterious tip of which he spoke. She wanted to kiss him all the night long.
When he lifted his head, they both were breathless and his eyes glowed in a wondrous way.
“We should bathe first,” he said, as if he regretted the delay.
“I bathed this morn, if my cleanliness concerns you.”
“I fear more for my own,” he replied. “I also bathed this morn, but I have ridden all this day. I would not offend you for all the gold in Christendom.”
His concern for her was sweet and unexpected. In truth, Isabella did not know if she could bear a greater delay. She leaned closer to him, so close that her nose touched his throat. He smelled warm and alluring, like wind and leather, and being so close to him made her very blood hum. “I think you smell fine,” she managed to say.
Amaury echoed her gesture, tucking his nose beneath her ear and inhaling of her scent. His proximity sent a fire to her very toes, and the weight of his hand upon her waist was a revelation.
“Offensive?” she whispered.
“Glorious,” he replied, pulling back enough to look into her eyes. “You smell like a garden, one blessed with every beauteous flower.”
She smiled and he grinned back at her. “Then we should proceed.” She caught his hand in hers and led him to the pile of pillows, well aware of the dampness of her palms. She pulled up her skirts but he stayed her with a touch.
“Not like that,” he chided. “This deed is best done skin-to-skin. Help me with my hauberk.”
Isabella felt her face heat, but she assisted as he instructed. He set aside his belt and sword, then unlaced the sides of his tabard. It went over his head, much as her own would, then he cast aside his boots. His hauberk laced down the back, requiring her assistance or that of his squire. When he hauled its weight over his head and cast it aside, it landed on the carpets with a thump and a rattle. She watched as he rolled his shoulders and could only admire the ripple of strength within them.
Once his padded aketon was removed, he stood before her in no more than his chemise, the tan of his skin evident through the sheer linen. He let her look, gave her time to note the difference in their bodies. He seemed to be golden from head to toe, his black hair was tousled, and his eyes glinted as blue as sapphires. There was dark hair in the midst of his chest, which she could see through the linen, and intriguing shadows lower. He reached for the laces at the sides of her gown and made quick work of unfastening them, then tugged the garment over her head. Her chemise undoubtedly revealed some of her body to him, as well, as she bent to remove her shoes and hose.
They faced each other, then Amaury untied the lace of his own chemise, loosened the neck and pulled the garment over his head. The sight of him nude was a revelation and a marvel. Isabella wanted to urge him into the sunlight and study him from head to toe, making note of the differences between them and discovering the spots that he felt more keenly.
But mostly, she wanted to know how it would feel when their bodies came together.
He was watching her as she deliberately let her gaze slide ever lower. Isabella could not disguise her relief at the sight of him.
