He slipped his hand from her breast and started inching his way down her stomach, unbuttoning her gown as he went. At last, she was free of the hideous concealing fabric—her beautiful body bare to his hungry gaze.
Her green eyes were wide and uncertain, her mouth ripe with his kisses. Her dark hair tumbled across her shoulders, her breasts full and lush. He found her tiny waist, generous hips, and short slender legs incredibly perfect.
“My wife. My sweet lovely wife.” She was his, completely. No other man had ever touched her this way; no other man ever would. A surge of protectiveness overwhelmed him.
Natalia grasped Dylan’s broad shoulders, desperate to pull him even closer. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, and tendrils of his dark damp hair fell across her pale skin as he suckled her with tender passion.
She’d almost gotten over the newness of the exquisite sensation, had started to relax and simply enjoy it, when his hand began to roam over her body. Gently, he stroked her stomach and the upper curve of her thigh.
A soft gasp of dismay and delight escaped her lips as he delved between her legs, touching her in the most private place. She clenched her legs shut, resisting the invasion, but he persisted.
“Please,” he whispered. “Let me do this, love. Let me touch you all over.”
Unable to resist such a heartfelt plea, she let her thighs fall apart, allowing him to continue his sinful exploration. Somehow, her body had become damp and moist. His fingertips pressed deep within her. She moaned and pushed against his hand, seeking more, wanting something she couldn’t even name.
Then he brushed his mouth down her body, spreading sweet hot kisses everywhere his hands had been. His tongue swept across her core, and she cried out his name in alarm. She buried her fingertips in his hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. In the end, she could do nothing but ride the waves of pleasure that crashed over her.
Chapter Twenty-two
Dylan held Natalia while she recovered. Watching her face as she found release for the first time had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever known.
At long last, Natalia blinked up at him, her face flushed and her hair adorably disheveled. She touched his cheek, the emotion in her eyes making him feel as though he could fly.
“Did you like that?” His voice was rough and husky. He wanted her to know how good it could be between them, how much he wanted to break down her defenses. But he was far past the last vestiges of restraint. He must have her, now, or die in the attempt.
Natalia nodded, her eyes wide as an owl’s. “I had no idea.”
He gave a shaky laugh. “Just imagine how it will feel when I’m deep inside you.” Just saying the words sent a soul-deep shudder through his already overheated body.
She let her hand trail from his face to the upper contours of his chest. “I love the way you feel.”
He covered her hand with his own. “Then touch me again, love. I’m dying to feel your hands on me.” He held her embarrassed gaze for a moment, then closed his eyes and let go of her hand.
Natalia ran her fingertips over his chest and shoulders, gentle as a butterfly’s wings. The rapid cadence of his breath intensified to a harsh, uneven pant.
When he couldn’t stand her sweet torture any longer, he placed his hand over hers and guided her again to the place where he desperately needed her touch.
Her hand trembled, but she explored his rigid length, wringing a soft moan of need from his lips. She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip and showed her how to pleasure him. “Please. Like this.”
She got the hang of it in no time at all. He released her and fisted his hands in the blankets beneath him, while his body strove for release.
It embarrassed him a bit, coming now, but he realized it was better this way. They had all night, and he needed the edge taken off his desire. Orgasm ripped through him, turning him inside out with blinding intensity, and he spilled his seed in her hand.
“Did I hurt you?” Natalia’s horrified voice cut through the haze of bliss.
He managed to stir himself enough to open his eyes and look at her. “No,” he whispered. “Of course not.”
She waved her hand helplessly. “Then what’s this?”
He struggled to hide a weak smile. “That’s how babies are made, love.”
Pushing himself up on one elbow, he reached over and grabbed her hideous nightgown from the foot of the bed and wiped off her hand. “Do you want children?”
He liked the idea of her pregnant with his child. He liked it very much. The mere thought of having a family of his own made him weak with longing.
What transpired between them tonight could very well result in the son he’d secretly dreamed of for years. He would never make the mistakes his own father had made. He’d love his own children more than life itself. His throat tightened painfully as he waited for her answer.
“I don’t know.”
