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She felt nothing of the kind. She liked it.
Cogent thought frayed when he adjusted his grip on her skirt so he could explore her folds with one hand while he kissed her.
Lips pressed as fingers stroked and her hips bucked. Annalena felt his smile but before she could react, his tongue followed the same route, pausing to swirl and press.
She gasped, a raw, keening sound that made the hairs on her nape stand up. Or perhaps that was because of where his fingers delved while his tongue worked that incredibly sensitive nub.
Her hands found his scalp, fingers in thick hair as if to stop him moving away. This was so amazing she didn’t want it to end, even as her pelvis rolled against his touch, meeting his stroking.
She shuddered as delight bombarded her. Instinct, formed by a life governed by duty and work, told her anything that felt so impossibly wonderful had to be dangerous. Eyes she hadn’t remembered closing fluttered open to discover Benedikt looking up at her.
She gasped, undone by the blast of emotion that hit her as she met that molten stare.
‘Come for me, Annalena. Let go.’
How she wanted to. Yet some stubborn part of her resisted. It was only as he caressed her again and her hips rolled in response that she saw a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye.
Lifting her head, she caught a reflection in the antique mirror. A woman, mouth open and red-cheeked, hands clamped on the man kneeling before her, his head dark against bare skin and ivory satin.
Shock exploded as she saw him bend closer, his hand moving between her legs. She’d never seen anything, experienced anything so…
‘Benedikt!’
Her cry went on and on, primal and triumphant as her body exploded in a climax unlike anything she’d known. Colours burst against closed eyelids. Showers of gold and silver rained down, molten. She felt the climax deep in her body as she rode his hand through the final, desperate throes of delight.
Ages later she was aware of her fingers tight in his hair and the hot, moist touch of his breath against her thigh. There were words too, murmured words she couldn’t make out but which sounded like praise and gentling noises designed to soothe.
She didn’t need soothing. Despite the rackety beat of her heart she felt lax as if every bone and muscle melted. Her legs gave way. ‘Benedikt.’ Her voice was unrecognisable. ‘I need…’
He read her body quickly. An instant later he was on his feet, scooping her against his chest. His eyes glowed and his smiling mouth was wet with the taste of her. The sight of him made something roll over in her chest.
‘I know. It’s time to find a bed.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Divesting his wifeof her glorious wedding gown was an experience Benedikt would remember for years to come.
He felt alternately eager excitement and something else, strong yet tender, as he took in her hazy, slightly unfocused stare, her body blush and her fumbling efforts to assist. He felt a need to cherish and protect.
It was as if the orgasm he’d given her had truly undone her.
Sure! You don’t think the long, long day and the stress of the past weeks have anything to do with it?
The proud, argumentative woman who didn’t hesitate to question when she thought he was wrong, or step up to daunting royal responsibilities, lay limp and delectably biddable as he carefully wrangled her out of the dress that had driven him crazy since she’d walked down the aisle.
She’d looked…perfect, a word he rarely used.
He told himself it was because of the clever dress design. It harked back to ancient tradition with its embroidery, full sleeves and shape that drew attention to her small waist. Yet it was thoroughly modern with that tantalising slice of bare flesh that defied anyone to label it old-fashioned.
It’s not the dress and you know it. It’s Annalena. You couldn’t have chosen a better bride. She may be a novice at court but she understands duty and dedication to her people.
He wasn’t thinking about duty or dedication as he dropped the heavy satin over the side of the bed.
His heart hammered as he surveyed her, bare flesh pink with the flush of satiation. She had a slender frame, gentle curves and long legs. Pale breasts tipped with rose pink. Pubic hair a dark, burnished gold. Her lazy green gaze made his blood rush and sizzle.
Slowly he stripped her fine pantyhose and the wet scrap of lace and silk from her legs, tossing them over his shoulder, watching her eyes widen then narrow, sending a bolt of fire through his belly.
Benedikt slowed his breathing, battling the urge to wrench open his trousers and plunge into her.