His mouth left hers and began raining kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, and onto the gentle swell of her breasts.
With her right hand, she ran her fingers against his chest hair, its prickly texture tickling her palm. She outlined his stomach muscles.
She wanted to touch him everywhere. Memorize every hard line of his body.
He tugged on the back of her dress and she heard the buttons pop, the fabric giving way as seams tore and material fell open. Gently, he pushed the sleeves off her shoulders.
His voice came out ragged. “I’ll buy you another. I need to see your body again.”
She removed the rest of the dress and slipped out of her shoes, and then she stood before him in her shift and stockings.
He knelt before her and picked up her right foot. With a satin-soft touch, he rolled the stocking down her thigh, over her calf, then slid it off her foot. He did the same with her other stocking.
Wet desire trickled between her legs in response.
A day’s growth of whiskers had settled onto his face, darkening the shadow on his cheeks, making him look dangerous and so handsome her knees went weak. The makings of his beard scraped against her sensitive flesh.
Again he stood before her. Nuzzling into his neck, she inhaled deeply, trying to forge his scent of sandalwood soap, and what she knew only as Fielding, forever in her memory. Gently she kissed the skin there, loving the taste of him and the feel of his skin against her lips. He groaned softly and ran his hands down her arms. Goose bumps followed his touch and her nipples hardened.
With one hand he slid the straps of her shift down her arms until the flimsy material pooled at her feet. He traced the words inscribed on her left breast and then those on her stomach.
“There’s something positively erotic about these tattoos,” he said. “Exotic etchings on such well-bred flesh.”
He placed his hands on her waist, then slowly caressed his way to her breasts. His warm hands kneaded the sensitive flesh, his touch only fueling her desire. But she didn’t want to rush him. She wanted to feel every sensation there was to be felt in lovemaking. Her hand again slid down his torso to rest on his flat, hard stomach.
He pulled her to him and kissed her fervently, his tongue sliding against hers in a passion dance that nearly made her climax.
He gripped her bottom and pressed her to him. “You have a wonderful bottom, Esme Worthington.”
That only made her smile.
His erection pushed hard against her bare stomach and she longed to wrap her legs around him, to put that part of his body firmly against her core. She lifted one leg in instinct, wrapping it around his waist. He picked her up and cradled her to his chest, then carried her straight to the bed. She’d been naked in his bed before, and he’d stopped just short of making love to her. Esme knew tonight there would be no such interruption.
“Esme,” he breathed. He leaned over her, bracing both arms on either side of her.
It was all the encouragement she needed. She reached between them and unfastened his trousers to free his hardened length. She needed to touch him, needed him to be inside her.
With some assistance, his pants slid off him and then his shirt and the rest of his clothing. He lay atop her, his hot skin against hers. Nothing was between them. She hugged him to her and soaked in the sensations; his weight pressing onto her, the crispness of his hair tickling her legs, his erection lying firmly against her stomach.
“It will hurt,” he told her. There was such honesty in his eyes, but pain was the last thing on her mind.
“I don’t care.” She opened her legs, making room for him.
He kissed her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His mouth met hers in a tender and vulnerable kiss that came close to bringing tears to her eyes.
Desire slid through her like molten lava. With one swift movement he pushed into her. Pain pierced her, but she fought the urge to flinch. She wanted to be strong for him.
Several breaths passed before he moved within her, slow and shallow at first, then tentatively he pushed himself deeper inside. Instinctively she encircled his body with her legs, taking him in even deeper still. Pleasure shrouded the pain as he drove in and out of her, made love to her.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He nibbled her shoulder, nuzzled her neck. The climax bloomed within her, curling into a tight spring she knew was seconds away from exploding. He kissed her then, deep, sweet, and full of tenderness.
And then spirals of pleasure burst through her. She tightened her legs and grabbed onto his shoulders as it rocketed through. A moment later she felt his abdomen stiffen, and then he released a guttural moan as he lost his seed within her.
For several moments they stayed in that position, sweaty, out of breath, and clinging to each other.
He withdrew himself and rolled over. She was unsure of what to do next, but she didn’t have to wonder long before he pulled her into the crook of his arm.
