Page 30 of A Night of Forever
She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Without warning, his demeanor changed. He pulled her toward him, closing the distance between them.
The inadequacy of her clothing made her blush. But that wasn’t the only thing that brought warmth to her face and made her heart beat faster.
She could drown in the intense, darkening warmth of his eyes. There were no secrets there tonight. No lies. Just want and need and desperate desire. Her Arend, with his high cheekbones and the chiseled jawline that held such stark beauty she wanted to run her fingers over every ridge and valley until she knew him not only by sight but also by touch.
She couldn’t repress her shiver as she realized she was alone in the dark with a man both forbidden and sanctioned. She should turn and retreat back to the house, yet she couldn’t move.
She praised God when Arend took the decision from her. He knew what she was feeling, what she wanted, what she was too scared to admit.
His hand left her shoulder and he reached for her, sliding his fingers along either side of her jaw. As he lowered his head, her heart pounded in her ears, and the primitive beat seemed to fill the eerie silence of the stable.
When his mouth covered hers, it was as if lightning struck—heat and sizzling desire. She could barely breathe. Then he made her lips open for him.
The scent of him filled her senses, and his taste stole her reason. It was exactly like the last time, and she loved it.
Wicked and wonderful sensations bombarded her, leaving her giddy and wanting more. Her head swam with erotic images from her dreams. Images of his hands on her belly, his lips on her breasts, skin to skin as he sought to ease the ache inside of her.
She clung tightly to his massive shoulders as he thrust his tongue deeper, inciting delicious, melting weakness in her limbs.
Suddenly Arend drew her hard into his body, and the kiss changed. Became hot. Possessive. Glorious.
The sinful thrill of being captured against this warm wall of muscle and bone should have unnerved her. But it didn’t. Instead, need, impossible to resist, surged through her.
She sighed with both craving and relief as her thin, silky clothing slid against her nipples. It was torture. It was agony. It was wonderful, and she wanted more.
When he suddenly broke off the kiss she cried out in protest. Then she saw the desire shimmering in his hooded eyes.
She saw the exact moment he surrendered to his need to taste her again. His eyes darkened and his mouth claimed hers once more.
This kiss was not one that a man would give a woman he intended to let remain a virgin—and that thought alone thrilled her.
She snuggled into him and was rewarded when he swept her into his arms and carried her across the stall to a pile of hay, his lips never leaving hers.
He laid her gently down before following, his heavy body pressing her deep into the hay. She loved the feel of his weight on her. Loved the marvelous mouth that continued to drive her desire higher.
Wrapping both arms round his neck, she returned his feverish kisses in kind. She strained against him, delighting in his body’s hardness, as his hands began to roam her person.
The feel of his fingers on the bare skin of her leg was exciting, scandalous, stimulating.
His other hand undid the belt of her robe, and he rose up enough to pull the material apart.
Only then did he break the kiss.
He was breathing heavily and as aroused as she. His eyes never left hers as he reached for the ties of her nightgown that he had exposed when he peeled back her robe. Slowly he pulled at the first tie. As it came undone he pushed the sides apart and kissed the top of her exposed breasts. Then his fingers went to the second tie, and the third, and the fourth, until her breasts were fully exposed to his gaze—and his mouth.
Eyes gleaming with satisfaction, he drank in her disheveled state. She should have been embarrassed at his study, but she wasn’t. In fact, it made her hot and bothered. She arched her back, almost demanding his attention.
When he lowered his head, took one peaked nipple tenderly into his mouth, and suckled, she thought she’d reached heaven. She cupped his head and held him there, pressed against her as she panted and writhed. Who knew she would become such a wanton for this man?
His hand continued molding the contours of her breasts while his mouth tortured her. She barely noticed that his other hand was pushing her legs wider to allow him to settle between her thighs.
Her body couldn’t help but move beneath him, seeking some form of relief.
“Easy,” Arend murmured. “Easy, my darling girl. I’ll make it good, I promise.”
His husky half whisper, the delicious French accent that colored every word, was as seductive as his touch. She almost cried out when she felt a finger slide through her wet folds.
