“Listen to me,” he whispered feverishly, all in a rush. “You know how much I want you. I think you want me, too. You can hate me later—God knows I deserve it. But for now, for tonight, can’t you love me just a little bit?”
Love him a little bit?As if she’d ever done anything by half measures. Therein lay the problem. She loved him far too much already.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in the back of her throat. Lord, she was so lost. “Let go of my hand, Dylan.”
He shook his head, every muscle in his big body tensing, as though what she asked was physically impossible. Then, with a small, soul-deep groan, he let his fingertips slide from her wrist.
She supposed she should shove him away, order him out of her room, and tell him what she thought of him for forcing her to do such a vulgar, unprecedented thing. But she didn’t. It was enough to know he would have let her.
They might as well get this over with. At least then she wouldn’t have to worry and wonder any longer. And she had to admit she was curious. She wanted him; she always had.
So, instead of pulling away, she stroked him again, exulting in the look of pure bliss that settled upon his stark chiseled features. Her touch stunned him into immobility. For this moment at least, he was completely under her control.
She took the opportunity to examine his gorgeous body once more. This time, her gaze lingered upon a small imperfection. An ugly, six-inch scar slashed across his hipbone and the top of his thigh. Prince Nikolai Ivanovich’s work, she remembered, overcome with tenderness.
“My beautiful hero.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the pale delicate line. He’d taken this at Balaklava, risking his life so someone else could live.
Dylan shuddered; the unexpected sweetness of her actions almost brought him to his knees. He’d never expected this, that she’d touch him so sweetly. She stroked him with gentle, untutored awkwardness, and it was the most exciting, arousing thing he’d ever known.
“Oh, Natalia,” he murmured, smoothing the dark hair from her temples. “You have no idea how good that feels.”
“I like touching you.” She blushed. His charming, virgin bride.
Reluctantly, he became aware of his selfishness. He should be pleasuring her, making this so good she’d let him repeat it on a regular basis.
He closed his hand around hers once more, but this time, he brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed her palm with lingering heat. Then he sat down on the bed beside her and pulled her into his lap. “Let me kiss you, love. I want to kiss you until the whole world falls away.”
“Yes.” She lifted her mouth to his. “Yes, I want that, too.”
He drowned in his wife’s warmth and sweetness, wondering how he’d ever find the strength to go slow. Kissing her was sheer bliss, but he wanted to do more.
So much more.
After an initial hesitation, she responded to him with all the fervor and passion he remembered. He knew how difficult it must’ve been for her to let go of her anger. Still, he was frustrated beyond belief. He didn’t want to hold back. He’d never been this aroused, and he hadn’t even touched her breasts yet…
God. He lifted one trembling hand to her flannel-covered chest, lightly grazing her nipple through the thick fabric. She gasped, and her fingernails dug into his shoulders.
“Easy,” he whispered, touching her again. “Relax, love. I won’t hurt you.”
Gradually, she gentled her grip. He kept his touch light, letting her get used to his caress. At last, he slid his fingertips beneath the neckline of her gown and filled his hand with her voluptuous, quivering warmth. He moaned at the silky texture of her skin, such a contrast to the hardness of her nipple.
Breaking the kiss, he drew back the tiniest bit, just enough to catch a glimpse of her pale creamy flesh. He only allowed himself one glance, but even that sent a fireball of heat to his already painfully hard groin. Holding her gaze, he rubbed his thumb across her sensitive nipple.
“How does this feel?” His voice was low and rough with desire, barely recognizable.
Natalia’s pale skin flushed with healthy color and her emerald eyes were unfocused. She blinked at his question, not answering, but when he moved to her other breast and repeated the motion, a soft sigh escape her lips. “Good. So good.”
He grinned at her answer and slid the gown from her shoulders, baring her feminine curves to his hungry gaze. “I have never seen anything as beautiful as you.” He lowered her to the bed and then buried his face against her chest, smiling in pure bliss when she hugged him to her, instead of pushing him away.
For a long moment, he just lay there, with his head against the delicious softness of her breasts, trying to regain control.
Tentatively, she ran her fingertips through his hair. He shuddered, wondering how he’d ever lived without this. Turning his head, he captured her nipple with his mouth. Her gasp of pleasure was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
He sucked her with growing fervor, until she shifted restlessly against him, her movements compounding his pleasant agony. Perhaps she was ready.
If he went very slowly, if he was very gentle…
God knew, he was past the point of rational thought. He wanted to touch her, to see if she was wet for him. If she was…
