Page 61 of Lord of Temptation
It was a bad idea. An awfully bad idea. Anne could think of a thousand reasons to say no, but she didn’t object when he took her snifter, finished off its contents, and set it aside. She didn’t snatch free her braid when he took hold of it and slowly unraveled the strands. She didn’t move back, only swayed forward when he cradled her face with one hand, her nape with the other, and covered her mouth with his. Lovely, so lovely. Molten heat flowed through her as his thumb stroked the underside of her chin and his mouth worked its magic. She could taste the brandy on his tongue, more intoxicating there than in the glass.
She maneuvered herself around until she was in his lap, straining to get as close to him as she could. She shoved his jacket off his shoulders, worked it free of his arms, never breaking the kiss. The familiarity astounded her. It was as though she had been with him forever, as though the days separating them had never occurred. She dispensed with his cravat next, then began working on the buttons of his waistcoat while he nimbly freed those on her nightdress. She felt the air cool her flesh, then he was warming it again, trailing his mouth along her throat before dipping into the valley between her breasts. She dropped back her head, relishing the rasp of his rough tongue as it circled a nipple.
“Yes,” she breathed, then he was drawing it into his mouth, tugging and suckling. The pleasure coursed through her, pooling between her thighs. She was acutely aware of the straining bulge against his trousers.
Suddenly he was standing, she was in his arms, and he was carrying her to the bed. “You’ll be the death of me,” he growled.
She stifled her laughter. It seemed wrong, here in her father’s house, to take joy in such wicked pleasures, but she couldn’t have sent Tristan away now if her life depended on it. He laid her on the bed and whipped off her nightdress. She felt no need to cover herself from his heated gaze. The appreciation that lit his eyes only served to warm her further. She watched as he hastily removed his own clothes. In this larger bedchamber, he shouldn’t have looked as powerful as he had on the ship, he shouldn’t have caused the room to seem dwarfed. But he did.
He dominated everything. He crawled onto her bed, near her feet, and skimmed his fingers up her legs, along her hips, her sides, easing up until he was looking down on her.
“What sort of spell have you cast over me?” he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers.
It was marvelous, having him so near, having the weight of his body resting on hers. The scent of brandy and oranges wafted around her. Wrapping her legs around him, she raked her fingers up his strong broad back, feeling the uneven flesh. Her husband wouldn’t be marred like this. He would have lived a leisurely existence fraught with few dangers. Would he stir her to life like this? Would he have her writhing and panting beneath him?
Or was this wild abandonment limited to the wicked?
“You’re beautiful, so beautiful,” he rasped, worshipping her body with his mouth, hands, and words.
How quickly she’d grown accustomed to the manner in which they waltzed in bed. Holding her gaze, he rose above her. “Be sure, Anne.”
“I am.”
He plunged into her. She cried out with the pleasure of it, the rightness of it. It felt so good to have him pounding into her, as though each thrust was a return home. She met his movements with a determination and fierceness that astounded her. She wanted to claim him, possess him, own him. She’d never felt this way. She hadn’t liked watching him dance with Lady Hermione. She’d wanted to tell the girl that she couldn’t have Tristan because he belonged to Anne. Only he didn’t.
He belonged to the sea.
And she knew that she would have to give him back to his demanding mistress. Anne was only for now. Tonight. Maybe one more. Already she was contemplating one more.
But each night would only add to the weight of sorrow when he finally parted from England’s shores. She knew he would leave. The sea would call to him and he would answer.
Yet at this moment, it was her cries that he responded to. It was his answering grunts that echoed around her. His eyes held hers. He measured her pleasure, increased it with deeper, more forceful thrusts. She dug her fingers into his buttocks, anchored herself to him as a deluge of sensations rocketed through her.
As she cried out, he covered her mouth, swallowing her screams, giving her his grunts just before he arched back and shuddered above her in a magnificent display of pure masculinity. As replete as she was, she still managed to find the strength to trail her fingers over his glistening chest.
He cursed soundly before rolling off her onto his back and drawing her up against his side. Staring at the canopy, in between harsh breaths, he muttered, “I didn’t think to protect you. Damnation.”
After the first time they’d made love, he’d begun withdrawing, spilling his seed on the sheets rather than in her. She understood the precautions that were needed, but it always left her wanting. While she didn’t want to find herself with child, a distant part of her thrilled with the possibility. But it would be such a disaster. She should remind him to leave her, but when he was inside her, her only thought was that she wanted him to stay.
She cradled his taut jaw. “It doesn’t always happen immediately. It took my friend Sarah six months to get with child.”
He chuckled low. “I gave no thought to anything except the wonder of being inside you again.”
She felt the heat suffusing her entire body at the crudity of his words. One didn’t talk so pointedly about such things.
He shifted his gaze to her and a corner of his mouth quirked up. “After what we’ve shared how can you still be embarrassed?”
“The words are so ... raw.”
“Shall I tell you how scaldingly hot you are inside?”
She furrowed her brow. “Does it burn you?”
“No, it feels bloody marvelous. Hence my inability to remain focused on what I should do as a gentleman. Rather, I become lost in being a scoundrel.”
“Are you complimenting me?”
Turning onto his side he tangled together their legs and threaded his fingers into her hair. “Never doubt for a moment that any woman can compare to you.”
