Page 43 of The Autumn Wife
“No pain,” he muttered. “Only pleasure.”
Then he dipped his head—and his lips—lower.
The world spun. She threw her head back with a gasp. Her legs lost feeling—only the grip of his hands on her hips held her upright. She muffled the shout shooting up her throat, but a sound slipped out anyway, strangled and hardly human.
“They can’t hear us at the cabin, not with the storm raging.” He spoke the words against her body, and she could feel his warm breath on her tender inner thigh. “Make all the noise you want.”
At his command, she dropped all attempts at control. As he resumed his wet kisses, hungry cries ripped up her throat, building with the wave of sensation uncoiling from the place where he was rolling his tongue, threatening to launch her senses beyond the rafters—beyond the stars.
And then, all of a sudden,did.
Sometime during the flight, he slid up to his feet. She collapsed in his arms as she floated down from the pleasure he’d given her. Slowly, she became aware of the scent of resinous pine and winter cold and cutmaple clinging to his shirt, a male scent that filled her head as strength returned to her knees.
She tilted her head back to witness the triumphant smile he bestowed upon her. His river-green eyes gleamed bright, the fire lighting them gold. He pushed her hair off her brow and kissed the center of her forehead, and she wondered how she’d ever believed this gentle, beautiful man was a brute.
“As passionate as you are beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers teasing her chin up. “Will you admit now that I was right about the convent?”
A laugh bubbled out of her.
It had always been a desperate idea.
“I may need more convincing,” she teased, running a finger down the linen weave of his shirt. “Take this off.”
A ripple passed over his face. “Ceci,” he whispered, bending his head close. “Maybe we should—”
“The breeches, too.”
A light flared in his eyes. His jaw shifted as he searched for words. “Think a moment. You know I’m leav—”
“I want more, Theo. I want everything.”
His gaze flared. She glimpsed the hungry wolf behind his control and ached to see him as unleashed as she had been. She knew this delight would be only a night. She would savor every hour, every minute, and remember it for a lifetime.
Because this was more than passion.
This was Theo, the man she loved.
He tugged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches. She’d seen Theo shirtless on the scaffolding many times, trying in vain not to gape at his wide, gleaming shoulders. Now she saw up close the hard plates of his chest and the lines of demarcation on his abdomen. She gave in to her most primitive urge to run her fingertips over the ridges and valleys of those swellings.
Then she switched her fingers for her lips.
His chest and abdomen tightened against her mouth in a delightful, quivering way. His skin was so hot, a little salty. A faint spray of dark hair surrounded his flat nipples, to which she gave some attention. When he groaned, a thrill shimmied through her. Was one night going to be enough to explore him, to discover all the ways they could love?
With new boldness, she ran a finger into the groove that led to his navel, and then lower still, over the trail of dark hair.
He gripped her hand, stopping its progress.
She glanced up at him to find his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw tight, his lips pressed together. The rugged, raw beauty of his face showed the pleasure she was giving him. Her overworked heart made a ragged leap. To think she had such power.
He muttered, “I’ll take off the breeches later.”
When he opened his eyes, his gaze bordered on feral. With a dip, he slid an arm around her waist and thrust her up against him, coming in for a hard kiss,sealing their lips. Lifting her, he moved away from the warmth of the fire.
A breeze siphoned through the walls and slid over her naked body in ways that made her tingle. He leaned down and tossed her onto a pillow-and-blanket-strewn bed. With the firelight behind him, his face was half light, half shadow as he crouched beside her.
Her knees slid open—the boldness of that thrilled her. She ached for more than his kisses, but he slapped a hand on one of her knees to keep her still.
“We’ll come to that.” His breathing came harsh. “I want you to be ready.”
