Page 67 of A Raven Reformed

Belle didn’t argue as Michael carried her up to his chambers. He sat down on the floor in front of the fire and just held her in his lap.

“You need to get warm.”

She simply nodded as he rocked her and soothed her with loving caresses.

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

He shook his head, but she needed him to know, to understand. She sat up and looked into his eyes.

“I was afraid. Iamafraid, and I didn’t want you to worry. That’s why I told Isaac instead of you.”

“Belle, I’m your husband. I’m always going to worry. That’s my job. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

“Please don’t send him away, Michael. It wasn’t his fault.”

“I wasn’t really going to send him away, and I certainly won’t now. He drove himself to exhaustion looking for you.” He let out a long sigh. “Perhaps we can figure out a way that he can be both your bodyguard and your friend, at least in private. I obviously underestimated just how much you need his friendship.”

She threw her arms around him and crushed her lips to his. “I love you, Michael,” she said between kisses.

“And I love you. Will you marry me again tomorrow?”

She giggled as she overflowed with happiness. “Of course I will.”

His kiss was surprisingly gentle as his lips whispered over hers. It didn’t fail to excite her, however, and her nipples pressed firmly against the fabric of her chemise as warmth filled her belly. Slowly, they undressed one another, as if it was all part of a choreographed dance. They took their time, a kiss here, a caress there. This time, after removing the pins from her own hair, she reached up to pull on the cord that held Michael’s back, as well. His mane of golden hair settled around his shoulders, and she reveled in its silkiness as the strands flowed between her fingers.

Michael picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, setting her down gently. He brushed her hair back and framed her face with his strong hands, a loving smile on his lips as he gazed down at her.

Belle swallowed, her heart beating nervously inside her chest. It felt silly to be nervous after all the times they’d made love, but something felt special tonight. He loved her.

Slowly, his lips descended to meet hers. She quivered at the sweet tenderness as he gently nipped at her lips. He reached over and pulled back the covers.

“Let’s get under there where it’s warm, shall we?”

“Yes, please.” She scooted herself to the middle of the bed. Michael followed her and pulled the blankets over them. The warmth of his skin against hers was heavenly.

Michael’s thumb brushed gently over her lips before he traced a light path with his fingertip over her chin and down her throat. He zigzagged across her chest, barely teasing the top of each breast but never making contact with her aching nipples. His hand brushed along her sternum and around to rest at her waist.

“Are you teasing me, Michael?” Belle’s pulse raced as need spiraled through her.

His answering smile was devilish. “Am I going too slowly for you, love?”

“Yes.” She nodded insistently, her voice breathless.

Michael rolled on top of her and pinned her wrists above her head in one of his hands. The heat of his tongue slid along her jaw and around the shell of her ear making her shiver with a prickling chill. “Well, that’s too bad, my naughty girl,” he whispered. “I get to decide how fast we go this time.”

Belle’s whole body was an instrument filled with waiting, desperate for him to pluck every string and make her sing. Her nipples pressed themselves against his chest, begging for his touch.

Instead, Michael pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose! Belle huffed with frustration.

“What is it, sweetheart? You don’t want me to kiss your nose?”

“No,” she said exasperatedly.

“Then where do you want me to kiss you?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Here?” He brushed his lips over her cheek. Belle glared up at him. She could feel the evidence of his desire against her thighs and wiggled against him. Two could play at this game. A moan rumbled inside his chest and he crushed his lips against hers. He took her mouth with savage intensity, his tongue plunging between her lips, tangling with her own. And then his mouth was gone.

The wickedness had not left his gaze as it bored into her. “You can’t get your way that easily, little miss.” He pressed light, nipping kisses down her throat and across her collarbone, his teeth grazed over her shoulder sending a ripple of want through her body.

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