When she rose onto her tiptoes to meet him, his heart leapt in his chest. What kind of fool was he? Who was seducing whom? Who would be vanquished? He feared it would be him again.
Stephen never suffered from a lack of courage. Truth be told, he threw himself into danger with nary a thought. But his knees trembled as he leaned down to take this gamble.
As soon as his lips touched hers, there was fire. As there was every time they kissed. He let it envelop him, lap all around him, as he sank into her. He wanted to touch all the places he loved: her face, the enticing curve of her back, the long line of her thigh. Her hair, he had to have his hands in it. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he began pulling the pins that held her headdress.
“Let me,” she gasped, breaking the kiss.
While her hands were busy with pins and coils, he moved down her body. He pressed his lips to the soft skin above her bodice, then dropped to his knees to kiss her breasts through the cloth of her gown. When her hair fell over his hands, he sighed with pleasure and rested his head against her.
But he could not afford to let her catch her breath and reconsider. He rose to his feet and spun her around to unfasten her gown.
“We should not…,” she began, but her voice trailed off as he reached around and cupped her breasts. Soft and full, they fit perfectly in his hands. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, making little sighs and moans.
He kissed her neck, then whispered into her ear, “I want to feel your skin against mine again.”
This time, she made no pretense of objecting. As soon as he unfastened her gown, she pushed it off her shoulders and let it fall in a pool at her feet. As she turned around to face him, he pulled his tunic and shirt over his head. He drew in a sharp breath when she put her arms around his waist and he felt her breasts against his chest.
She looked up at him, eyes dark and serious. “I know it is wrong, but I cannot help myself.”
“There is no wrong in it, if we are to marry.”
“I would rather sin than suffer every day—” Her voice broke in a sob.
He could not begin to understand her. What could she mean? “We would have joy between us, can you not see that?”
She shook her head violently from side to side. With the passion broken, he could feel her slipping away from him. Before she could change her mind, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
This was no time for fighting fair.
He began by kissing her senseless.
When she slipped a hand under the top of his leggings, he grabbed her wrist. Holding both her hands over her head, he nipped at her ear and ran his tongue along her collarbone. By the time he reached her breasts, she was squirming and arching her back.
Slowly, he circled her nipples with his tongue. Round and round, then flicking with his tongue until she slammed her fist against the bed.
Good. He ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, inch by inch, as he continued teasing her nipple with his tongue. When he reached her center, she was hot and wet and he wanted her so badly he nearly forgot his purpose.
With renewed determination to control himself, he drew her breast into his mouth and pleasured her with his hand. Every sigh and moan made him want her more.
When he stopped to run his hand along the inside of her thigh again, she opened her eyes.
“Good things come to her who waits,” he said, grinning down at her. He set to teasing her, moving his fingers in circles ever closer to her center until he brushed it with each turn with a feather touch.
The saints preserve him, she had beautiful breasts! He kissed the one closest to him. She made a little high-pitched sound when he took the nipple between his teeth. As he increased the pressure between her legs, her breathing grew ragged.
“Stephen, don’t stop,” she said, her voice urgent as she tried to pull him down to her.
When she cried out, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. He felt overpowered by emotions so strong he did not know what to do with them.
He squeezed his eyes shut as she ran her fingers along the side of his face. He was tight as a bowstring. When she turned in to him to kiss him, the tips of her breasts touched his chest. This was the way to ruin. He let himself enjoy a painfully languid kiss before he broke away.
“On your stomach,” he told her and sat up.
Giving him an uncertain look, she turned. He gathered her mass of dark hair and swept it to the side. As he kissed her neck, her lips curved up. He leaned back and let his eyes travel down the graceful line of her spine. To let her know how much he wanted her, he rubbed his cock against her buttocks.
In truth, that was just for him.
It did get her attention. She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes wide and lips parted. She looked so beautiful he had to fight the urge to part her legs and enter her right then.
