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She did not know how he loomed so close to her she had to lift her head to meet his murky eyes, almost green in the fire light. “My duty is to go to London and report you to the authorities.”
His expression hardened and shuttered to unfathomable. “Do not meddle in this, Annabel. You have no idea what this is about.” He directed low and lethal.
She squinted her gaze conveying utter suspicion. “Of course, you would prevent me from reporting.” Her chin up a notch. “You don’t want Court Martial, do you?”
They stood toe to toe, she could smell him, soap and man, heat arrowing to that place he had touched with drastic consequences.
“Oh, Court Martial.” An eyebrow shot up his forehead. “You dream big.” Too silky for her safety.
He took her arms, pulled her to him, as his sensuous bristled lips found her neck.
She could barely contain a sigh, but her insides lit up. “This is what you deserve.” Her sigh came here.
“Right now I would say I deserve this.” He rumbled before slanting her mouth with his.
This was an assault on her senses. She must grab his bare, warm shoulders, for fear of falling, for she was already tumbling in the temptation of him. Her heart thrashed inside her ribs, and she became a torch of wantonness.
With his mouth, he opened hers and invaded her full, hot and relentless. No point in resisting, only to succumb in the end. Of their own volition, her arms banded his neck, her hands merged in his sleek damp hair and her length moulded to his, shameless, sinful. Their tongues duelled in unbridled carnality. He kissed her even wider, and she was defenceless against the sound aired on her throat, delectation and protest for more rolled in one.
He lifted her onto him to gain more access to her mouth and she let him. She did not know how her head ended up on a fluffy pillow and the delicious weight of him over her, their legs jumbled. Her hands roamed his shoulder, his arms, his chest, revelling in the bunches of muscles she found.
While his open lips grazed her neck, he pulled the chemise string, gaping the neckline. It bunched in her middle. He lifted his upper torso and his murky hazel gaze feasted on her bosom. Before a hand palmed one mound and his mouth took the other, sinking her further in a haze of pleasure. She moaned, pressing a hand on his head to keep him there, in the same time she arched into him.
Ripples of sensation coiled in her middle, so vivid, she curled her leg around his, bringing him closer than ever. The movement cradled his very patent erection on her softness. It was his turn to groan.
“Annabel.” He rasped, his head lowering to her navel. “You are too passionate for your own good.”
He got rid of her chemise and she lay there at his mercy. He wasted no time. Hair falling around his ears, hands holding her thighs, his mouth neared there where she ached acutely.
He certainly would not do–his tongue merged in her wetness–that, she sighed, plunging in a parallel world. The roughness of his bristled jaw, with the moist velvet of his hot tongue drove her to a mad lust. The torment he inflicted on her made her glutton for more. She moved her pelvis blindly seeking the place he had taken her to that day.
“Come for me, Annabel.” He murmured glued to her folds. “Cry my name.”
His tongue exerted more pressure, and she erupted in a blast of heat which shook her whole being. “Romulus.” She cried in a voice she did not recognise as he rode the rest of her spasms. She crumbled on the luxuriant mattress, completely sated.
Romulus stood from the bed to unbutton his breeches and undress them. His body bathed in the warm fire light while her eyes regaled his manly beauty. Muscles rippled, clothes swished, eyes meshed. His impressive manhood jutted from a cradle of dark hair, causing eagerness in her.
He came over her and kissed her a hundred degrees hotter than before and threw her anew in wanton greed. Positioning himself, she registered the tip of him at her entrance. Then he pushed all the delicious hardness in her, treating her to that first surge of delight. Next, came the discomfort, and she tensed a little bit.
In a swift movement, he propped himself on his elbows to direct his now greener beacons on her. “What is this, Annabel?” He grunted, his countenance tense and pulled back, as if he was in pain.
By then, her discomfort became mere memory and her centre sent ravenous demands. “It is what it is.” She had condition to say nothing else.
He continued searching her face with such an agonized expression in the same time she twisting her body as it sought smouldering fulfilment.
“Stop it, Annabel!” Ragged breath, tight voice. “I need to go slow here.”
But she did not obey as usual. If anything, she became more feverish.
“Romulus.” Now, she was the one commanding. His attention snapped to her. “Move!”
“Hell, woman!” He rasped with more urgency. “You will drive me insane!”
And then he moved. Hades broke loose with a promise of scorching paradise. In between moans she locked with him arms and legs, starving for everything he could give her. Head interred in her neck, one arm banding her waist, the other hand tangled in her hair, he thrust as if it was the end of times. Their bodies entangled with steaming harmony in the fleeting light of the hearth.
Her insides soared yet again, reaching for the conflagration of which he was always the perpetrator. He moved ever deeper, his breath sawing in her ear, his sweat breaking on his skin. Then he crashed in her and pushed her over the precipice. She screamed as he sped, intensifying her contractions. His hips met hers once more, while he emitted a grating guttural sound as he vibrated in her, giving all he had.
He fell on her and she held him, to help him through recovery. They remained entwined in each other for a long time, under the cosy coverlet.
