Page 53 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
The housekeeper left. Adaline wheeled him to his side of the bed, helping him into the bed. She did not linger. Within minutes she had straightened, walking to her side of the bed, and climbing beneath the covers in silence.
He was acutely conscious of her, lying beside him. He heard the soft intake of her breath. The scent of her drifted towards him, musky, with a slight hint of lemons. The peculiar scent of her that was all her own, and which he would recognise instantly, even in a crowded room.
He wanted to reach out to her, to take her in his arms. He wanted to claim her, finally, as the man he was now, rather than the man he had once been. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him, with actions rather than mere words, but he felt strangely shy. The knowledge of how they had once been together weighed heavily on his soul, almost crushing him.
Almost against his will he turned to her, drinking in her beauty. It seemed impossible to him that he had never loved her. It was as if someone had just told him that night was actually day, or that the moon did not appear in the night sky.
Her eyes flickered towards him, uncertain.
“James,” she said slowly. “Is there something wrong? You have been so quiet this evening…”
He didn’t answer. He just kept gazing at her, noting the sweep of her cheekbones, her long, dark lashes, the fullness of her lips.
“May I kiss you?” he whispered slowly.
She looked surprised but gratified, her brown eyes gleaming with sudden pleasure. A faint blush rose to her face, sweeping up over her neck. He felt a leap of desire, deep in his groin.
“I…suppose you may,” she replied, hesitantly.
She sat up, leaning over him, brushing her lips against his. Her glossy dark hair fell like a curtain over his face.
He snaked a hand into that hair, feeling the soft silkiness of it beneath his fingers. And then slowly, carefully, he pushed her closer, deepening the kiss, exploring her mouth with his own. He felt her stiffen with desire as he probed her mouth with his tongue, opening it, so that he was almost devouring her.
In a dreamy haze, his lips left hers, trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking. Her skin was so soft. Slowly, he bent his head lower, until he was kissing the top of her dusky breasts, just visible above the bodice of her nightgown.
He stopped, breathless, for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. They were dark with desire. Gratified he kept going, pulling down the top of the nightgown, so that her breasts were finally exposed to him.
He gazed at them for a long moment. They were as beautiful as he had dreamt they would be. Full, and heavy, with large, rosy pink nipples. They were hard, too. Slowly, he grazed a finger against one. She gasped with pleasure.
It was almost too much. Feverishly, his mouth latched onto the nipple, pulling and sucking, in an agony of lust. He wanted to take it deeper still, to pull her whole breast into his mouth if he could. With closed eyes, he suckled with abandon, his hand squeezing her other breast, tweaking the nipple almost in unison. He felt drunk with pleasure.
His hands drifted lower, squeezing her buttocks through the sheer material of the nightgown, glorying in their softness, and roundness, kneading them with fevered hands.
His mouth left her nipple, gazing up at her, for a long moment.
He had never seen such a beautiful sight, in his life.
Her face was flushed with desire and she was straining against him, as hungry for his caresses as he was to give them to her. He felt a flash of triumph, a deep, almost primal pleasure, that she wanted this as much as he did.
“May I take off your nightgown?” he whispered, his eyes burning into hers.
She nodded, almost shyly, ducking her head so that the curtain of glossy black hair fell across her face.
In one swift movement he pulled it over her head and she was naked in his arms, at long last. His eyes swept over her full breasts, her hard nipples, to her waist, and then lower, to the dark triangle of hair between her legs.
My God,he thought, in a fever of desire.She is so very beautiful.
Slowly, he reached up, pulling her down onto the bed so that she was lying beneath him, His hands commenced their slow, patient work, kneading her breasts, then sweeping lower, parting her legs, so that he could feel her womanhood. Another fierce stab of lust forked through him as he felt her glistening wetness, the proof of her desire. With a strangled gasp, he parted her lips probing deep into her with one hand.
She arched her hips, against him, seeking to take him deeper inside her. He was straining against her now, so hard and full, he felt like he was about to burst. Slowly, carefully, he positioned himself between her legs, pressing himself against the very core of her.
He sought her eyes, for a second, seeking this final permission. Her body was telling him that she wanted this, but he needed to know that she was fully with him, wanting this as much as he did. That she would not have any cause to regret it, after the fact.
She gazed up at him, her brown eyes hazy with lust. She met his gaze fully, almost challenging him. He smiled faintly, pushing hard against her.
He slid into her. She was so deep and warm, enfolding him like a velvet glove. He closed his eyes in ecstasy for a brief moment, before he started moving against her, plunging into her with sheer, joyous abandon.
She was breathing heavily, arching her hips against him, straining with all her might. He could feel it building inside her, her pleasure almost tangible. His own was rising by the second, an exquisite, relentless agony, pushing him towards his climax. They were moving faster, now. He heard her moan, low and deep, and then he heard his own voice as if from a distance. He was groaning, sweat dripping off him, plunging into her harder…
