Page 56 of Bad Luck Bride (Scandal at the Savoy #3)

D esire was clawing at him already, but he kept the kiss soft and tender as he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He lifted his other hand to stroke her hair.

It felt like liquid silk, and he lingered a moment, toying with it, twisting strands around his fingers, then, wrapping tresses around his fist, he tilted her head back and deepened the kiss.

Her mouth opened at once in surrender, and as he tasted deeply of her, his heart began to pound hard in his chest. But even this luscious kiss wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He broke the kiss, pulling back enough to slide his hands between them to untie the sash of her robe.

When he pulled the edges of the garment apart, his knuckles brushed her breasts, and just that was enough to send sharp shards of sensation through his body and threaten to break the precarious hold he had on his control.

But he knew he could not let that happen. It had taken them fourteen years to get to this moment, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by rushing things. He had to slow down, so he reluctantly slid his hands away and took a step back, letting her go and earning a cry of dismay from her.

“You’re not stopping?”

Her anxious voice was loud enough that he cupped her face and pressed his thumb to her lips.

“Believe me, Kay,” he said, his voice unsteady to his own ears, “I couldn’t stop now if my life depended on it. But we’ve got to keep our voices down. We’re in a hotel, remember? There’s probably guests on both sides of us.”

She nodded, but when she lifted her hands as if to remove his robe as he had done hers, he grasped her wrists to stop her.

“I want this to be right for you, and while I realize that you are no longer a girl of just eighteen, but a very sophisticated woman of thirty-two, I also know that when it comes to lovemaking, I know a bit more than you.”

“Oh, really?” she whispered, frowning a little. “And just how did you acquire this knowledge, hmm?”

“I knew about this before we ever even met,” he assured her, wisely steering clear of the fact that he hadn’t exactly been celibate for the past fourteen years. “Because of that, it’s important that you let me lead.”

“A bit like dancing, then.”

“Very much like dancing.”

“Oh, very well,” she said meekly, but when she flashed him a wicked smile, he feared remaining in charge of this from start to finish was going to prove a Herculean task, and her next words confirmed the fact. “But if you dance too slowly, Devlin, I’m taking over.”

Despite her threat, he let her go and drew back, then raked a hand through his hair and took a moment for a long, deep breath. Having already spent most of the day in a very acute state of unsated sexual arousal, he willed himself to keep his own desires securely in check and concentrate on hers.

“All right, then,” he said at last and reached up to push her hair back from her shoulders, a move that showed the outline of her hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown, requiring him to take another slow, deep breath, then he lifted his hands and cupped her breasts through the fabric.

There was no corset to get in the way, and he gave a groan of appreciation as he felt her breasts in his hands.

She might be slimmer now than she’d been as a girl, but her breasts were lush and full, and he relished the fact as he toyed with them for a bit, embracing their shape and brushing his thumbs over her nipples.

Unable to resist, he bent his head, and through the thin muslin of her gown, he took one of her nipples into his mouth.

She gave a sharp gasp, and her knees buckled. Instantly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, but he did not stop. Holding her upright, he suckled her, relishing the quickening of her breathing and the way she shivered in his hold.

After a few moments, he pulled back, but only because he wanted more. “I want to see you,” he said, grasping folds of her nightgown in his fists. “Lift your arms.”

She complied, raising her arms to the ceiling, and he pulled the gown upward and over her head, baring her body completely.

Her skin was flushed a delicate shade of pink, making the freckles scattered across her face, shoulders, and bosom look more like brown sugar than ever.

Her breasts were every bit as perfect as his explorations had told him they would be.

Her nipples were turgid, showing her arousal, and he once again took her in his arms and bent his head, pressing kisses to her hot cheeks and her chin, then lower, along her neck and across her clavicle, then lower still to those exquisite breasts, but to his surprise, she stopped him.

“Wait,” she gasped. Pulling free of his hold, she reached for the sash of his dressing gown. “My turn to look.”

He groaned and grasped her hands. “I’m leading this dance,” he said sternly.

“But I want to see you,” she whispered. “Fair’s fair.”

He hesitated, for he was fully aroused, and he had no idea what she’d make of that, but she had as much right to see his body as he had to see hers. “Well, when you put it like that,” he muttered and let her go.

She untied the sash and pushed the dressing gown from his shoulders, but as it fell to the floor behind him, she didn’t look where he thought she would.

Instead, her gaze paused at his bare chest. She touched him, and he inhaled sharply, tilting back his head and bearing it as she slid her hands across his shoulders, over his nipples and down to his abdomen, where she stopped.

“Oh!” she said, her startled exclamation telling him she’d seen him in all his flagrant glory. “That’s not what I…” She lifted her head, frowning a little. “You don’t look anything like the statues in the British Museum.”

He gave a shout of laughter. “What were you expecting?” he teased, tilting his head to look into her face. “A fig leaf?”

She made a face, pressing her hand to his shoulder and giving him a playful shove for his impudence. “No, of course not. But…” She paused and looked down, and her cheeks turned absolutely scarlet. “Goodness.”

She reached out as if to touch him, but that would be a bridge too far. He was in a precarious enough state as it was. “Oh, no,” he groaned, pushing her hand away. “We’re not to that point in this dance just yet.”

She started to protest, but he bent down, sliding one arm behind her back and hooking the other beneath her knees, then he lifted her into his arms and silenced her laughing squeal with a long, deep kiss as he carried her into his bedroom.

He laid her on the bed, but he didn’t join her.

Instead, he stood beside the bed, letting his gaze roam over her, from her coppery hair spread across the sheets to her adorable face to her perfect breasts to the deep curve of her waist, to the generous curves of her hips.

His gaze caught there, on the red-gold triangle between her thighs.

He grasped her hips in his hands, turning her body and easing his own between her legs as he sank to his knees.

He put his hands on her thighs, pulling her legs wider apart, then he bent his head.

Guessing his intent, she stiffened, giving a startled gasp, and her thighs clenched, her knees pressing against his shoulders.

He lifted his head, waiting until she did the same. “Kay,” he said softly, his fingers touching her most intimate place as their eyes met. “I want to kiss you here. Let me do this. Trust me.”

Her eyes were wide as saucers, but she nodded, relaxing a fraction, and he slowly bent his head to press his lips to her fiery curls.

She gave a long, soft wail at the contact, and he reveled in the sound, smiling as her head fell back against the mattress.

Still watching her, he ran his tongue over the crease of her sex to her clitoris, and this time, she gave a startled cry.

Instantly, she stifled it with her hand, and he smiled, knowing the tension of having to be quiet would only arouse her further.

Closing his eyes, he allowed his other senses to take over. She smelled like flowers, and she tasted like heaven, and as he caressed her again and again with his tongue, he relished her stifled sounds of pleasure and the thrust of her hips against his mouth.

“Devlin,” she whispered. “Oh, oh.”

She was so close. He continued this carnal kiss, stroking her relentlessly, until, with a final sob of pleasure, she came.

He continued to kiss and caress her and nuzzle her, wringing more orgasms from her, then finally, with one last kiss, he stood up.

Kay lifted her head to look at him. She wanted to say something, but the feelings within her were so overwhelming, she couldn’t find words.

He lifted her legs and turned her body, stretching her out on the bed.

Then he left her, going into the sitting room, and when he returned, the French letter was in his hand.

As he moved to the other side of the bed, she dared a peek at him, and though the lamplight that spilled through the door from the sitting room was faint, it was enough to confirm that his manhood was still jutting out proudly in front of him, and she realized with sudden insight just what that French letter was supposed to do.

He paused by the side of the bed, pulled the sheath of vulcanized rubber from its velvet envelope, and unfolded it. Tossing the envelope aside, he slid the sheath along the length of his shaft, and she felt a sudden, strange pang of fear.

He looked up, making her realize she had made a shocked sound, and instantly, he was on the bed beside her, kissing her.

“I love you,” he said against her mouth, then he pulled back to look into her face. “Do you love me?”

Without hesitation, she nodded. She didn’t quite know how all this was going to work, but her love for him was absolutely certain. “Yes,” she said, reaching up to touch his face. “I love you.”

He bent his head as if to kiss her again, then paused. “Just to clarify things, you are going to marry me, aren’t you?”

Talk of honorable marriage seemed strange when they were both naked and aroused and about to do something that was strictly forbidden outside marriage. “What a question to ask at such a moment,” she murmured with a chuckle.

“I mean it, Kay.” His voice was strained, his face suddenly hard. “Without marriage in the offing, I’m not taking your virtue. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” she said happily and kissed him. “Yes, yes. I’ll marry you as soon as you come back.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. “I thought I was going to have to toss you out and take another cold bath.”

He moved then, easing his body on top of hers, and she gladly opened her arms, but then, he stopped again, resting his weight on his arm, suspended above her as his hand maneuvered the hard, sheathed part of his body between her thighs.

“One thing you need to know.” His voice sounded hoarse, his breathing labored, and he paused, his face grim, as if he was striving for control.

Sweat glistened on his chest, on his forehead, and his breathing was quick and harsh.

“I’ve got to warn you about this. You’ve never been with a man before, so it’s probably going to hurt. ”

That news was a bit alarming, but then he rocked his hips against hers, and as the hard part of him rubbed the place he had kissed so wickedly a short time ago, she forgot to be afraid. With a moan, she closed her eyes, savoring the sweet, aching delight of it.

“God, Kay,” he groaned. His free hand slid between them, his fingers touching her, opening her. Then he lowered his body onto hers, sliding his hand out from between them as his hard shaft pressed against her, and then, with a hard thrust, fully into her.

She gasped, the sharp, stinging pain snapping her eyes open. “Devlin?”

He kissed her. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I love you.”

With that reassurance, he slid his arms beneath her, buried his face against the side of her neck, and flexed his hips, a move that thrust him more deeply into her.

Thankfully, the pain had already begun to subside, and she wriggled her hips, trying to accustom herself to the strange fullness of him inside of her.

The move seemed to ignite something inside him, for he quickened the pace, each thrust stronger and deeper than the one before.

His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and it was almost as if he’d forgotten about her, but he was stroking her hair and saying her name, and she realized it wasn’t that at all.

He was caught up in the pleasure of this joining.

With that thought, she relaxed beneath him, and with his next thrust, she pushed up to meet him.

Then she did it again, and again, urging him to a faster pace, and faster still, as an aching, hungry need rose within her, the need for more of those amazing, explosive sensations that he had evoked with his touch and his mouth.

Suddenly, it happened. She reached the peak, waves of that sweet, earth-shattering pleasure rippling through her.

“I love you,” she whispered against his ear, her legs tight around him, her body clenching around his shaft as the pleasure kept coming. “Oh, Devlin, I love you so.”

With those words, shudders suddenly rocked his body and he cried out, a smothered cry against her neck. He thrust against her several more times, and then collapsed, his breathing hard and labored against the side of her throat.

She raked her fingers through his hair and stroked the hard, strong muscles of his back and shoulders. When he kissed her hair and murmured her name, happiness rose within her like a fierce, surging tide.

She was so glad she had come tonight. Because she’d spent so long—too long—being afraid. Afraid of doing the wrong thing, of earning disapproval, of making mistakes, of what people would say. It had gotten her nothing but worry, aggravation, and pain.

Now, the only thing she cared about was him and their love, and she knew that no matter how long they were separated, she would have the beauty of this moment and her newfound courage to sustain her.