Page 59 of Claiming His Christmas Angel

“I found it immensely pleasurable too.” Amusement rumbled out of him in a quiet chuckle before he kissed her. There was a gentle tenderness to the caress that made her heart leap. He lifted his head, his mouth curved in a wicked, sinful smile. “In fact, I’m certain I’ll never grow tired of hearing you call out my name with such wild abandon, my sweet Aphrodite.”

His words made her heart leap. He’d said that with the confidence of a man who firmly believed she would be his wife. But it was more than that. There was a conviction echoing in his voice that said he was certain they would have a marriage with many more nights like this.

Was he right? Could two people have a strong marriage based only on passion and friendship? Did it mean he might already be fond of her? If so, then if her father encouraged her to marry Atticus, perhaps that fondness might strengthen into something deeper. A small bud of hope unfurled inside her. She crushed the emotion the instant it threatened to take hold of her heart. Even daring to dream of such a possibility was dangerous. If she was wrong, her heart wouldn’t just break, it would shatter into a million pieces, never to be mended.

When Atticus rolled over to lie on his back next to her, the room’s cool air caused her to shiver from the loss of his warmth. In a swift move, he tugged the covers from under them and pulled them up over their naked bodies before he turned onto his side to study her. feeling as awkward as a young debutante at her first ball, Octavia closed her eyes unable to look at him for fear her expression would reveal her heart to him.

A strong male hand captured hers, and he carried it to his mouth to kiss her fingertips. Just as when he’d kissed her a moment ago, his touch was tender. It made her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and a knot formed in her throat. This man would be her undoing. Octavia was convinced of it. Warm fingers brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

The soft demand caught her off guard, and the muscles in her limbs grew taut. Eyes still closed, she remained silent, uncertain how to answer him. When he nibbled almost playfully at the tips of her fingers, the feathery touch made her laugh, and she turned her head toward him.

“I was thinking how wonderful I feel right now.” It was the truth. She did feel marvelous despite her fear of what the future might hold. A rakish grin twisted his lips.

“Then I can assume you won’t object to me having my way with you several more times before dawn?” Atticus arched an eyebrow at her, and she laughed again.

“No, I won’t object at all.”

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I cannot get enough of you, and I’m determined to have dessert all night long.”

“All night?” she smiled. “I cannot go without sleep. Otherwise, you’ll discover just how sharp my tongue can be.”

“Hmm, then I’ll consider allowing you to nap every hour or so. The rest of the time, I intend to indulge myself with your sweet mouth and tantalizing body.”

Atticus followed up on his words as he bowed his head to nibble at her bare shoulder. It sent a delicious warmth pulsing through her, and she released a soft sigh of pleasure. A low chuckle reverberated against her skin, but he didn’t stop his exploration of her neck and shoulder.

Content to remain still and simply revel in his caresses, Octavia closed her eyes. A smile tilted her lips as his mouth and teeth nipped at her. Giving herself to him tonight had been the best and worst thing she’d ever done. She loved him so much, and no matter what choice she made tomorrow, she was doomed to a hellish existence. The only question to be answered was whether or not that state of being would be immediate or in the future.

As his duchess, she’d be a slave to his every request, remanded to hell the moment he tired of her. The opposite scenario might be worse. If she ignored whatever her father said and walked away from Atticus, her pain would be immediate. At least as the Duchess of Ashurst, any pain she experienced would be delayed. She would also have more pleasurable nights like this.

Octavia’s throat threatened to close with tears, and she quickly swallowed them. Worrying about the future was pointless. It only ate away at the happiness she experienced being in Atticus’s arms. And she was happy—happier than she’d ever been in her life.

That was the memory she wanted to take away with her in the morning. She wanted to remember how deliriously happy she was in his arms for these few hours. A large hand cupped her breast, jerking her out of her thoughts. Octavia released a soft gasp of delight the instant his thumb rubbed across a nipple that was already stiff and hard. Her eyes flew open to stare up into dark blue eyes glittering with amusement.

“I wanted to make sure you were still awake.” His light-hearted teasing made her laugh.

“I am most definitely awake, and if I hadn’t been, I would be now.”

Grinning at her amused reply, Atticus lowered his head to take the hard peak of her breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the hard tip, then administered a sharp bite to her sensitive flesh.

She cried out in surprise, the discomfort fleeting as his tongue laved her flesh in a soothing stroke. It was a hedonistic sensation, and her body cried out for more of the same. Without thought, she arched upward. Low laughter rumbled up out of his chest with what was obvious satisfaction.

“You like that, don’t you, Aphrodite,” he murmured.

“Dear God, yes,” she whispered, then gasped again as he tweaked her opposite nipple with his fingers. Heat pooled between her thighs, and her hips shifted beneath him.

“Tell me what else you like.”

“All of it,” she breathed. I feel alive when you touch me, and I never want to leave your arms.

Drawing in a deep breath, the warm male scent of bergamot and spice filled her nose. He was hot, desirable male against her senses, and she jumped as he lowered his head to flick his tongue across the tip of her again, then blew a gentle breeze across it. The instant she inhaled a sharp breath of delight, wicked laughter reverberated out of his chest. Atticus lifted his head and smiled at her.

The teasing smile made her heart skip a beat. Dear God, when he looked at her like that, she was little more than clay for him to manipulate however he wished. Reaching upward, she brushed her fingers over his firm, sensual lips in a gentle caress. It was a beautiful, well-defined male mouth. Her gaze drifted down across his hard, well-toned shoulder muscles, then on to his bare chest before her eyes met his.

Atticus’s smile vanished, and his gaze darkened with an emotion that made her heart leap. Without hesitating, she buried the hope trying to push its way outward. As much as Octavia wanted to believe the emotion reflected in his eyes was real, she knew she didn’t dare allow herself to even hope for such a possibility.

For a brief second, she considered asking him if he had any feelings for her. The instant the thought flitted through her head, fear sent her heart slamming into her chest. Frightened that she might betray herself, Octavia reached up to pull Atticus’s head down to kiss him.