Page 65 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
And she needn’t ask him twice.
His body thrilling to the feel of her atop him, he guided her down so he could kiss her thoroughly, raining tiny kisses along the fullness of her lips, into the corners of her mouth, and then along her neck, and down… until he found precisely what he sought. Again, she arched at the touch, and moaned softly as he lifted himself to her breast and drew one nipple gently between his lips.
God’s teeth, but he’d waited a lifetime for this, he realized. In that moment, all trace of every other woman was eradicated from his brain; only Emma existed.
With his free hand he cherished her body, his fingers playing lightly across the length of her gown looking for the hem of her gown. He raised the delicate cloth slowly, and once again groaned with pleasure when she didn’t stop him. “Are you certain?” he asked thickly.
“Are you certain?” she asked in return.
“More certain thananythingever in my life!”
“Teach meeverything,” she entreated, and lifted up her own gown. The sight of her full breasts, illuminated by the moonlight, her skin perfect and her nipples puckered with anticipation, hardened him fully.
Driven now, his fingers sought her woman’s curls, wanting to taste her body with a fervor unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
Emma couldn’t think to protest... couldn’t think to consider the consequences. Couldn’t think at all.
She lifted herself into his palm as he touched her… there. Such wicked, wicked pleasure, he was giving her—she couldn’t bear it.
He caressed her with his thumb, his eyes closing and his nostrils flaring like a hunter scenting his prey, and he drew circles around the bud of her womanhood.
Lucien felt himself pulsing beneath the weight of her body as he brought forth her wetness. And then, hoping not to shock her, but mindless with desire, he drew his fingers to his lips to suckle the sweet moisture.
She tasted like heaven. His Emma. His sweet, sweet, Emma.
She nearly unmanned him on the spot as she bent to kiss him fully upon the lips, the shocking gesture more erotic and powerful in its sweetness than any masterful courtesan could ever have elicited from him.
In one swift movement, he turned her upon her back, and began to free himself from the gaol of his clothing as she watched.
She was so ready for him that it was all he could do to remove his breeches quickly enough, and still, with that brief separation, she did not protest.
Emma watched Lucien with a sense of wonder. His body was sculpted and hard, so unlike she had imagined. He straddled her, peering down at her hungrily and her breath caught somewhere in the back of her throat.
She didn’t fear this, she told herself. Though the look in his eyes reminded her of a hungry wolf’s, it was also possessive and full of adoration.
Finally, beyond a shadow of doubt, she knew… he was hers, and she was his.
When he lifted himself atop her, Emma deliriously welcomed his weight.
Pressing himself atop her, Lucien groaned in anticipation. Nestling himself against her softness, he rocked against her, his movements slow and erotic and he whispered, “Let me love you this way always. Bring sunshine into my life, laughter into my house, joy and song into all my Christmases.” He slipped lower, settling himself between her thighs.
“Always,” she promised and parted her legs to receive him.
Lucien groaned with pleasure and she whimpered softly as he entered her. He reached the barrier of her maidenhood, and he bent to stifle her soft cries with his mouth.
Unable to bear it any longer, knowing it would go easier for her if he pierced her quickly, he cried out and thrust deeply, breaching her maidenhead in one powerful drive. And then he loved her slowly, reveling in her body, kissing her thoroughly, giving her his heart.
When Emma cried out softly and her body tightened beneath him, he thrust his head back and cried out in ecstasy. His body shuddered violently with pleasure and he clung to her possessively.
Afterward, he held her close as his body continued to convulsed with pleasure.
Moonlight spilled in from the open window to highlight her face and her tears—happy tears. As far as he was concerned, she was his wife from this moment forward. “Merry Christmas,” Lucien whispered huskily, reaching up to kiss her tears away.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, and held him close.
