Page 40 of Irish Rose
Erin rubbed rueful fingers over her nose. “If you’re trying to flirt with me, you ought to be able to do better.”
“Works both ways.” Lifting the hand that still held the rose, he kissed her fingers. “You could say something nice about me.”
Erin caught her lip between her teeth and waited until he glanced up. “I’m thinking,” she said, then laughed when his teeth nipped her knuckle. “Well, I suppose I like your face well enough.”
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“Oh, I’m picky, I am, so you should be flattered. And though you haven’t Travis’s build, I’m partial to the wiry type.”
“Does Dee know you’ve had your eye on her husband?”
Erin laughed into her glass. “Surely there’s no harm in looking.”
“Then look here.” Tilting her face up to his, he kissed her. His lips lingered softly, more a whisper than a shout.
“There’s the way you do that, too,” she murmured.
“Do what?”
“Make my insides curl all up.”
With his lips still hovering over hers, he took the glass from her and set it aside. “Is that good?”
“I don’t know. But I’d like you to do it again.”
With a hand to her cheek, he nuzzled. Drawing on a tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed, waiting for her lips to warm and soften beneath his. She hesitantly touched a hand to his shoulder. She knew his strength now, what it was capable of, and yet... and yet his mouth was so patient, so sweet, so beautifully gentle. When he increased the pressure, her fingers tensed. Immediately he drew back to nibble again until he felt her begin to relax.
He wanted to take care, and not just for her, he realized, but for himself. He wanted to savor, to explore, to open doors for both of them. He’d never been a man to bother with candlelight and music, had never looked for the romance of it. Now he found himself as soothed and seduced by it as she was.
The scent of her bath was on her skin; fresh, clean. On her his soap seemed feminine, somehow mysterious. Her skin was smooth but not frail. Beneath it were firm muscles, honed by an unpampered life. He would never have found frailty as appealing. Still, he could feel the nerves jangle inside her. Now he would treat her as though she’d never been touched. Where there was innocence there should be compassion. Where there was trust there should be respect.
And somehow, wonderingly, he felt as though it was his own initiation.
She heard the rustle of the sheets as he shifted. Her body hammered with need even while her fears held her back. It was natural, she reminded herself. And now that she wasn’t expecting, she wouldn’t be disappointed. Then her breath caught as a new thrill coursed over her skin. Confused, she brought a hand to his chest.
“I won’t hurt you again.” He drew away from her to brush the hair from her face. His fingers weren’t steady. God, he had to be steady now, he warned himself. He couldn’t afford to lose control, to lose himself a second time. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
She didn’t believe him. Even as she opened her arms in acceptance, he saw she didn’t believe him. So he lowered his mouth to hers again and thought only of Erin.
He’d never been a selfish lover, but he’d never been a selfless one, either. Now he found himself ignoring his own needs for hers. When he touched her, it wasn’t to fulfill his own desire but to bring her whatever passion he was able. He felt the change in her start slowly, a gradual relaxation of the limbs, a dreamy murmuring of his name.
She’d waited, braced, for the speed, the pressure, the pain. Instead he gave her languidness, indulgence and pure pleasure. He moved his hands over her freely, as he had before, but this time there was a difference. He stroked, caressed, lingered until she felt as though she was floating. The sensation of vulnerability returned, but without the panic. Light and sweet, he brought his mouth to her breast to nibble and suckle so that she felt the response deep inside, a pull, a tug, a warmth that spread to her fingertips.
With a moan she wrapped her arms around him, no longer simply accepting but welcoming.
My God, she was sweet. With his lips rubbing over her skin he discovered she had a taste like no other, a taste he would never be able to do without again. Her body was so completely responsive under his that he knew he could have her now and satisfy them both. But he was greedy in a different way this time. Greedy to give.
Reaching for her hand, he linked his fingers with hers. Even that, just that, was the most intimate gesture he’d ever made. In the candlelight he saw her face glow with pleasure, the soft, silky kind that could last for hours.
So he came back to her mouth to give them both time.
She tasted the wine, just a hint of it, on his tongue. Then she felt his lips move against hers with words she heard only in her heart.
Here was the glow she’d once imagined, and all the bright, beautiful colors the poets had promised. Here was music flowing gently and light soft as heaven. Here was everything a woman who’d given her heart could ask in return.
She’d loved him before. But now, experiencing the compassion, the completeness, she fell deeper.
Slowly, carefully, he began to show her more, finding all the pleasure he could want from her response. Her body shuddered and strained toward him without hesitation, without restrictions. When he nudged her over the first peak, he saw her eyes fly open with shock and dark delight.
