Page 88 of The Miracle of Love
“Because you are a tipsy virgin and we are still unwed. But rest assured, it is very much alive and eager to entertain you. We shall find other ways to amuse each other tonight.” He lifted her in his arms to carry her upstairs. “Miranda would be smacking me on the head if she had any idea what I had in mind to do to you next.”
“Indeed, she thinks you are a very naughty fellow.”
“I am, love. But from now on, it will only be with you.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed.
“Grace, how are you feeling?”
“Excited and dizzy,” she said, nuzzling his neck. “Mostly dizzy, I think. The mulled cider went straight to my head. But I’ll be fine. I am determined to have my night of pleasure with you.”
Assuming she did not pass out first.
He set her on the bed and knelt beside her to remove her pink satin slippers that were a perfect match to her gown. “Oh, the bed is spinning. It feels as though we are floating on the water. Rocking in a storm.”
“That cannot be good,” he muttered, grabbing the basin and setting it close before helping her out of all but her chemise. He removed her necklace and put it back in its pretty box, then took a moment to place it in her bureau drawer.
She was still sitting up, her cheeks pink and her bosom in a steady rise and fall as she took deep breaths to steady herself.
Probably not a good idea.
Inhaling air in those deep gulps was more likely to put her out than sober her up.
He took the pins from her hair and ran his fingers through her golden curls. The tumble of tresses flowed like silk between his fingers.
He moved away a moment to remove his clothes, although there was no need to hurry. Despite her willingness, Grace was in no condition to do anything with him tonight.
They’d kept the fire going in their bedchamber all day to warm the room, but it also cast plenty of light. They were surrounded in a gentle, amber glow and Grace looked like an angel on his bed.
She watched him as he stripped down to his breeches. “Close your eyes, Grace.”
“Why?”
“I am taking these off now. But it is only to change out of them into the pair I have been wearing to bed.”
“Not on your life. I am not closing my eyes. I am not missing this.”
He did not know whether to laugh or groan.
She had accepted his marriage proposal, so they were in effect officially betrothed. Never mind that her father would never consent. She had given her consent and this is all that mattered to him. They had pledged their hearts to each other. It was time they moved beyond merely sharing a bed.
However, not thedeeditself.
Even if she were sober, he would not have claimed her. He intended to wait until their wedding night because Grace, being Grace, needed it to be this way whether she realized it or not.
In the meanwhile, there were a thousand ways to explore her body, to evoke her breathy moans and teach her about passion.
“All right, Grace. Fair warning. The breeches are about to drop.”
He set them beside the other garments he’d shed.
Grace came to his side as he dug out the pair he intended to wear from his bureau drawer. “May I touch your snake?”
He closed his eyes and shuddered. “Depends what part.”
He was going to shoot off like a cannon if she touched its tail.
But she ran her fingers lightly along his thigh, stroking the body of it, fascinated by the way it wrapped around the upper part of his leg. “That’s a little too close, princess.”
