Page 48 of Husband for the Holidays

His groan was tortured. His hands flexed in her hair, pulling slightly, while his flesh twitched in her hand and mouth. She saw his abdomen tighten and his whole body seemed to shake.

She would have smiled, but she wanted to keep pleasuring him. She anointed and used her tongue to search out the spots that made him curse and gasp, then bobbed her head a little, experimenting.

With a tortured noise, he used his grip on her hair to pull himself free of the suction of her lips and unsteadily petted down the back of her head, then under her jaw, forcing her to look up at him.

“Another time I’ll let you finish me like that,” he said in a voice that was graveled and carnal. “I’ll look forward to it.” His thumb scraped across her bottom lip. “But I want inside you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

A tiny sob of helpless arousal throbbed in her throat. She felt too weak to finish undressing, but that was okay because he was already peeling her top off before he kicked his jeans to the floor.

Seconds later, he loomed over her, pressing her onto her back again. He braced himself on an elbow, but his other hand was free and roamed her torso in a possessive claiming, sweeping to her waist and across her stomach, then up to cup her throat. He scraped his teeth against her chin.

“I want you in ways that aren’t civilized. Stop me if you get scared.”

“I won’t.” She trusted him. She always had.

His mouth twisted with a hint of cynicism, as though he knew more than she did, but he pressed his lips to her collarbone while his scorching touch went down her front again, pausing to squeeze her hip before searing the top of her thigh.

“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He caught her earlobe between his lips and gently sucked.

Did she want his baby? Her mother’s cautions rang briefly through her mind. She ought to heed them, she knew. They weren’t married yet, and there was that small anxious part of her that worried something would happen and he would decide he didn’t want her, after all.

But when she checked in with her heart, and the part of her that yearned to be a mother, she not only wanted children, she wanted him to be their father.

“Oh...only if you want to,” she said tentatively.

He lifted his head long enough to look into her eyes, doing that thing where his near-black eyes swallowed her soul, leaving her trembling.

She closed her eyes and tried to bring his mouth to hers, wanting the mindlessness again. She rolled toward him, seeking the delicious brush of his naked skin with her own, but he wanted her on her back. He pressed her flat and she let him settle between her legs. Eloise set light hands on his shoulders, wanting this, but suffering last-minute apprehension as the reality closed in on her. He was an imposing presence, tense and strong and so casual with his propriety touch. Sostrong.

He was so attuned to her, however, that he lifted his mouth from nuzzling the corner of hers and asked gruffly, “Second thoughts?”

“Nervous,” she admitted, and skated her hands across the bulk of his shoulders.

“You didn’t seem nervous a few minutes ago. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing.”

She smiled with bashful pleasure and sifted her fingers into his hair, encouraging him to linger so they could kiss more deeply.

As they did, all the small sparks of nerves inside her began to pulse with renewed longing. She grew melty and soft and moved her legs against his, reveling in the textures and flex of his muscles.

“You’re very beautiful.” He only spoke Greek to her now and it felt even more intimate and sincere to hear him say these things in his native tongue. “You know that, don’t you?”

She didn’t. She wasn’t voluptuous or stately or glamorous, but she felt very sensuous as his mouth sought under her chin. She arched her neck, luxuriating in the damp kisses he left on her throat.

“And here,” he murmured, cupping her modest breast and sliding down to roll her nipple with his tongue.

“You’re not disappointed that—?Oh.” Sharp sensations lanced into her belly and lower, flooding her loins with renewed heat. With urgency.

“That you prefer to go braless? How could I be disappointed in that?”

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

He paused in moving from one nipple to the other. “Ialwaysnotice,asteri mou. It turns me on.” He closed his mouth over the tip of her other breast, curling her toes.

She writhed, fingers in his hair, body feeling not her own.

When his open-mouthed kisses trailed down her abdomen, she shifted her legs, conflicted. She wanted that. Loved it. But...

“I thought you wanted...”

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