Page 48 of Signed, Sealed, Married

An expression she didn’t have time to read flashed across his features. Then he drew her to him and she toppled into the deep green depths of those fathomless eyes.

This time there was no gentle brush of lips. Their mouths met squarely, automatically finding the most pleasing fit. Gisèle’s fingers burrowed through soft curls as she cradled the back of his head, holding him where she needed him. Their tongues met, stroked and delved.

Fire shot through her veins as their kiss deepened, passion flaring bright and hungry.

She wriggled forward, needing more contact, but her skirt hampered her. Adam came to the rescue, pulling aside her skirt as she lifted first one knee then the other to move closer.

Instead of moving back to grasp her hips, his hand stayed at the slit of her skirt. Warm fingers stroked her thigh, higher and higher, drawing the fabric up. She had no thought of stopping him, instead shuffling her knees wider. And all the while that kiss—passionate, seductive and so absolutely what she needed—went on and on, turning her blood to thick honey and sparking fireworks.

She should be exploring his body. Except it was enough for now to anchor her hands against the back of his head, letting their kiss expand and his hand explore.

Fire roared through her as he cupped her mound through lace underwear. His touch was firm. So definite. So perfect.

Gisèle sighed her relief as she tilted into his hold.

Teeth closed around her lower lip, gently biting, and she shuddered, planting her hands on his shoulders, not to push away, but because she needed to hold herself steady.

His hand moved, tugging damp lace and burrowing beneath it, fingers sliding to the place where pleasure centred.

Gisèle gasped as a shock wave of delight raced through her, making her jump. Then his fingertips slid back, circling, teasing, making her forget to breathe. Taking her right to the brink.

‘Let go, Gisèle.’

Adam’s voice was velvet and aged brandy, smooth yet with a bite. Like the caress of his cheek and jaw against hers, the friction of his unshaven skin delicious.

‘I can’t.’

She couldn’t have reached the brink of orgasm so fast. Because she’d spent her adult life protecting herself so she’d never again be vulnerable to a man. Because the pleasure Adam gave was already so overwhelming, suddenly she feared what would happen if she let him tip her over the edge.

He kissed her again, featherlight kisses across her mouth that teased but didn’t satisfy. Kisses on her throat and at a spot below her ear that made her melt and draw tight simultaneously.

He whispered against her skin, pure temptation. ‘Let go, Gisèle. I’m here to catch you.’

His fingers moved further, delving. First one in a slow slide and retreat. Then two, and she couldn’t help but move, pushing against him as he took her mouth again, tongue sliding deep, filling her, urging her as his hand worked between her legs.

There was an explosion of light behind her eyelids. A detonation of sensation, wild and exquisite, centred at her core and radiating out.

Then she was falling off the precipice. Soaring and floating in another dimension.

Heat engulfed her. Solid muscle. Sure hands. The murmured flow of reassuring words. Soft kisses on her throat, cheeks and lips.

Finally she lay, limp from bliss, as the world reassembled itself around her. She was stretched full-length on velvet cushions, Adam’s arms around her, the fine weave of his trousers encasing solid thighs against her legs.

Gisèle sighed and snuggled closer, the movement bringing her against the hard bulge of his erection. But he didn’t move, just held her, one arm around her, his other hand stroking her hair lying loose around her shoulders.

‘You’re spectacular, Gisèle. So vibrant...so combustible.’

Her mouth hooked up in a wry smile. That’s what lack of a sex life did to you—made you liable to combust.

‘I love watching you climax. You’re beautiful.’

Her eyes snapped open. ‘No need for flattery.’

‘Flattery?’ He eased back to look into her eyes. ‘It’s the truth.’

She wavered, seeing his frown. Maybe he meant it and she was the one with a hangup about the word ‘beautiful’. It was the unattainable standard against which she’d been measured. Maybe it was what a man said to a woman during sex.

Despite the sweet lassitude filling her, Gisèle felt nervous. Would she disappoint him? Would her inexperience show?

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