Page 66 of An Enchanting Dare

“Like you want to eat me in one bite.”

“Mmm, one bite,” she said with a happy sigh.

He leaned down and nipped at her shoulder. “As many bites as you like. We have all the time in the world now.”

All the time in the world and yet she fidgeted impatiently as he divested her of her gown and the endless layers of petticoats and corset. Finally, he lifted her shift over her head, and she was standing in only her stockings and garters.

“Turn around, Aisling,” he said.

She did as he asked, astonished that at this of all moments, she didn’t feel the slightest bit shy. Not with him. But she never had with him. He made her bold and brave, and let her be entirely herself.

“Sylvester Cootes, you lucky dog,” he murmured, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she pointed out, her skin prickling with anticipation as his heated gaze roved over her.

“We’ll deal with that in a moment. Come here, wife,” he demanded, pulling her into his arms.

Aisling squeaked as cold buttons and his watch chain pressed against her warm skin, but he covered her mouth with his, smothering her indignation. His hands glided over her, caressing tenderly, and soon she was so overheated she was certain anything metal would melt against her. Sylvester pulled back with a tortured groan.

“Help me,” he demanded, tugging wildly at his cravat.

Aisling laughed, starting on his waistcoat buttons as he threw the cravat aside and shrugged off his coat, dropping it to the floor. She tried to pull his waistcoat off his shoulders as he hopped on one foot to tug off his boots. He cursed as he lost his balance and nearly landed on his backside, just hitting the edge of the bed instead. Aisling tugged at the boot for him and cast it aside, where it landed with a dull thud. She reached for the other one, tugged that off too, then she pulled at his trousers as he lifted his hips and pushed from the top, and the absurdity of their eager haste had her giggling like a maniac.

“Are you laughing at me?” he protested, disappearing as he tugged his shirt over his head.

Aisling stumbled back as his trousers and smallclothes came free, and suddenly, he was sitting there in all his naked glory. The laughter died in her throat, and she stared for a long moment before shaking her head.

“No. Not laughing.” She took in powerful shoulders and muscular arms, the light dusting of hair on his broad chest that arrowed down, directing her gaze to that most masculine part of him. Aisling sighed. “You are beautiful, Sylvester.”

He smirked, not above preening a little. “Glad you noticed. I can’t hold a candle to you, though, my gorgeous wife. Come here now, before I go mad with wanting you.”

She did not need a second invitation and ran to the bed, tumbling into his arms. He rolled her onto her back, kissing her as his hands explored new territory. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he traced the curve of her breast.

“God, you’re lovely,” he whispered, his hazel eyes dark with desire. “You’re not worried, are you? Frightened? I won’t hurt—”

Aisling pressed a finger to his lips. “Foolish man. You would never hurt me. I trust you. Make love to me, Sylvester. Show me how it’s supposed to be.”

To her surprise, his eyes glittered with emotion, and he bent his head to press a soft kiss to her mouth. “I love you,” he whispered. “With all my heart. I think I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, stepping out of the carriage at Rowsley Hall the Christmas we first met. I think that’s why I was so awful to you, because I was so bloody overwhelmed. But I do love you, and I’ll never stop, either. You’re mine now.”

Aisling opened her mouth to reply, but he did not give her the chance, stealing the words with another deep kiss. So she showed him instead, by giving him everything she had, holding nothing back.

His lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver as he pressed kisses along her collarbone and the hollow at the base of her throat. She gasped as he nuzzled against her breasts, capturing a nipple in his mouth and suckling. Bursts of sensation radiated from the place where his mouth worked, arrowing directly between her legs. She was all liquid fire, already damp and throbbing with need. He knew she needed his touch though, his hands skimming down her body to ease between her thighs and stroke. Clever fingers sifted through the coarse curls to the delicate place beneath, and caressed her there.

She cried out, arching her hips, seeking more, and he lifted his head, taking her mouth again and kissing her, sweet and tender at first and then deeper as his fingers slid inside her and her body convulsed, squeezing around him as pleasure rolled through her in waves. But this was the easy part, giving herself over to his touch. Though she had meant what she’d said, she was still a little nervous, anxious that she would not enjoy what came next. Her only experience had been painful and harsh, and though she trusted Sylvester entirely, she feared she might be too badly damaged by the experience to—Aisling gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, bracing himself above her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t… Christ, Aisling. Did I hurt you?”

She blinked up at him, stunned, and then wrapped her legs about his hips. “Do it again,” she demanded.

Moving slowly this time, his gaze locked upon hers, Sylvester withdrew and pushed back inside her.

“Oh!” She gave a startled laugh, entranced by the feel of him inside her, filling her. It was absurdly intimate and so… so right.

“Yes?” he asked her, his voice hoarse.

“Yes. Yes, please,” she whispered.

He dropped his head to her shoulder with a groan. “Oh, thank God.”