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Because it was mutual passion, not one-sided yearning, which she couldn’t have borne. She ignored the blip of her heartbeat when he’d acknowledged love was an impossibility.
‘Respect and passion sound good to me.’ She pressed her mouth to his knuckles, delighting in this connection between them.
‘In that case…’
He drew her hard against him with one arm wrapped around her waist.
‘I suppose you have no idea how you’ve tantalised me in this dress.’ His gaze dropped to the narrow V of her neckline that plunged between her breasts. His stare shot fire into her blood and made her push her shoulders back. ‘I thought brides were supposed to be demure.’
‘I didn’t want to look dowdy.’ Especially when she’d feared some would expect that. ‘My designer friend had this amazing design she said would be perfect, formal but feminine.’
Heavy ivory satin dropped in folds to the floor. Long sleeves fell in pleats that became soft, belling folds. A high collar plunged to a deep opening between her breasts and the whole bodice, which arrowed down to her abdomen in an almost mediaeval style, was heavily embroidered.
It was unlike anything she’d ever worn and she loved it. Wearing it made her feel feminine and powerful.
Especially when Benedikt looked at her like that, his gaze eating her up.
‘She was right. It’s perfect.’
His voice was gravel and had the same effect as flint striking stone. Sparks ignited across her skin. His hand dropped from her face to her collarbone and her breath stopped as skin met skin. Slowly his palm slid lower, the weight of it delicious. When he reached the place between her breasts he splayed his fingers.
‘There’s tape there,’ she explained as he met resistance. But she needn’t have worried. He found the double-sided tape that kept her breasts fully covered and deftly stripped it free.
Hadn’t she said he knew his way around women?
Annalena sighed as her unfettered breasts eased towards the opening while Benedikt explored. Teased, more like. He stroked the inner curve of each breast, stretching his fingers under the fabric but not quite far enough to reach her pebbled nipples.
She grabbed his shoulders as arousal quaked through her.
‘You like that, Annalena? What about this?’
He bent to kiss from her collarbone to her breasts. His tongue caressed the tender, sensitive skin bared to his caress, trailing ribbons of fire wherever he touched and making her hands clench into his shoulders.
She wanted him to touch her like that everywhere.
All too soon he stopped. Yet instead of rising to possess her mouth, Benedikt dropped to his knees. Pure gold gleamed in eyes that regarded her steadily while he grabbed the voluminous skirt, bunching it up her shins, to her knees, then higher.
Her breasts rose on a snatched breath as his smile became a devilish grin. Breathless, she watched him skim his mouth over her inner thighs.
It was the most decadent thing she’d ever experienced. Even through sheer pantyhose, the touch of his mouth to her trembling thigh created a jolt of lightning, driving down through her body.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders as he pushed the heavy skirt up to her abdomen. Now his gaze wasn’t on her face. From this angle his honed features looked taut, the pulse at his neck jumping as he surveyed what he’d bared.
‘Push down your pantyhose, Annalena.’
It sounded like an order in that roughened voice and for once she didn’t think to object. Excitement burred through her.
Wordlessly she hooked her thumbs through the waistband and slid the tights down.
‘And the rest. I want you bare.’ Though she wanted that too, hearing him spell it out made her pause for a millisecond. Instantly he looked up and what she saw in his face told her his brusque tone had more to do with his own excitement than the need to give orders. ‘Please.’
She swallowed the knot clogging her throat and hooked her fingers into lace and silk, dragging pantyhose and underwear together down her thighs. But when she would have lifted one knee to free herself he stopped her. Not with words but the simple act of leaning in to brush his mouth across her thatch of blonde hair.
Annalena jumped and clung to his shoulders, her knees wobbling.
‘You smell so good.’
The words vibrated against her skin, making her twitch and widen her stance, only to be stopped by the restriction of the tights above her knees. She should feel foolish standing, half undressed. Or embarrassed with Benedikt nuzzling herthere.