Page 27 of A Midwinter Wager

Chapter 17

Francesca had imaginedthis moment so many times, though after Fitz had left for Europe, she’d killed the dream. She wouldn’t miss the dream though—because the reality was even better. The feel of his lips crushing hers, the mix of power and excitement that filled her at his touch—were wonderful beyond the scope of dreams.

His tongue—hot, heavy and lavish—stroked her lips. When he teased her teeth with it, she opened her mouth and welcomed him in, adoring his sure thrust of possession. She moaned softly, her head swimming, as his touch mastered her body. Her mind was a mere spectator. All that mattered now was sensation.

He eased away and pushed her chemise up, and, lifting her bottom, she helped him, then mewled in delight as his hand found her breast, the nipple taut and aching.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, lowering his head and rubbing his cheek appreciatively over her sensitized flesh. The texture of his slightly stubbled chin grazed her nipple, the repetitive movement sending shafts of sensual excitement to every inch of her.

But to one place in particular, between her legs, which tingled with a hint of wonders yet to come.

“I want to take this slowly,” Fitz said, sitting up and straddling her. “I want to look at you.”

And she wanted to look at him—this wasn’t fair. She pulled her chemise down to cover her breasts, saying, “I demand you take off your shirt. I want to see what I’m getting in exchange for the loss of my virginity, and my reputation.”

“I’m not sure you’re in a position to bargain.” He gave her a lopsided smile, then squeezed his knees together, imprisoning her. “But I hate to refuse a lady.” Seizing the hem of his shirt, he stripped it off and threw it down, then ran a hand over his hair.

Right now, Cesca didn’t give a damn what his hair looked like. His body was—quite simply—magnificent. The tingle between her legs increased to a pulse.

Not only his muscular torso, but his erection was exposed to her view. The latter looked surprisingly large. She gulped, intimidated by the sight.

“Seen enough?” He smirked at her.

“Very impressive, thank you.” Her voice had never sounded so husky.

“Any more demands, my lady, before we continue?”

“It felt nice when you touched me here.” Shyly, she brushed a hand over her breast.

His lips parted in a feral grin, and the next thing she knew, he’d dragged her chemise over her head, trapping her arms in its sleeves. Now she was completely helpless, as he pinned her down with one hand, and explored her breasts with the other. When he caught a nipple between finger and thumb and squeezed gently, she moaned. Then he moistened the rosy tip with his tongue, making it feel even tighter.

“Oh, I like that. Oh, please,” she begged. There had to be more—it felt like every single inch of her body was waiting impatiently for… something.

When he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, a wave of deep pleasure rolled over her, pooling in her womb. She squeezed her legs together, increasing the intensity of feeling, and felt Fitz smile against her breast.

“I want to touch you!” she complained. Did his fire-gilded, athletic body feel as splendid as it looked?

“Not yet.” He applied his knowing tongue and lips to the other breast, teasing and tormenting until she bucked beneath him, arching her back and rising to meet him in voiceless demand.

Suddenly, her chemise was gone, and her hands were free. She tangled them in his hair, dragging his head up to taste his lips again, and for the next few moments, she lost herself in the heady ecstasy of his soul-searing kiss.

His phallus, stiff with masculine potency, rubbed against her belly. She was ready to receive him, to become his lover. All thoughts of propriety were gone, burned away in the sensual blaze of the moment. His back was silk-covered steel beneath her exploring hands—firm, smooth and strong. Such a waste, to hide all this glory under clothing! When they were married, she would insist he sleep naked.

He changed his position, ran a line of kisses down her breast and abdomen, then gently pushed her knees apart. As he settled himself in the gap created, she felt exposed, suddenly fearful and vulnerable. Would he hurt her? Would it matter if he did?

She almost fainted in shock when his tongue found the engorged folds of flesh between her legs, and gently laved them. A shudder rocked through her, and she writhed in delight as he licked at a small nub of flesh right at the root of her femininity. Her hands thrust into his hair, not wanting him to stop, but he moved up her body to pay homage to her breasts once more.

Then he looked at her, his eyes dark with promise. “I hope you’re ready for me,” he rasped. “Because my need for you is killing me.”

It was more a command than a question, and her only answer was to reach toward his erection. When her fingers made contact, it jerked with a life all its own. Its hardness puzzled her, but so did its softness—she’d no idea such satin skin could be found anywhere on a man.

His breath hitched in his throat, then he chuckled. “You look irresistible. All woman, full of curiosity and lust. But if you continue to explore me so boldly, my willpower, as I’ve already told you, will be weaker than thistledown.”

Disappointed, she moved her hand to his arm, reveling in the flexing of its sinews as he repositioned himself, with his erection resting at the sensitized entrance to her body. He pressed against her, and she bit her lip against the pain, but it was over in an instant, and he was inside her.

He moved gently at first, sliding in and out on a cushion of moisture, but thrusting increasingly deeper until he was fully within her. She sucked in a sharp breath.

He stilled, his brow furrowed. “Shall I stop? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The discomfort of penetration was already receding, overwhelmed by the darts of pleasure shooting through her. She shook her head emphatically and dug her nails into the skin of his back. Her nerves leaped to life, her body tensed with concentration as he drove in again, further this time, claiming all of her. Shifting to rest his weight on his elbows, he freed his hands to tease her nipples, adding to the growing gamut of sensations that had taken her over.

They found a rhythm—he plunging deep, she rearing up to meet him, legs spread wide, open and inviting, rocking like a ship on a storm-tossed sea. She gripped him, released him, eking out every fragment of feeling from their joining, while he surged into her with intense concentration.

Suddenly her feelings peaked in a maelstrom of ecstasy, and she fell apart, crying out her delight, clutching him in a feverish grip as he heaved, and moaned, and found his own pleasure.

He rested gently on top of her still-thrumming body, warming her as she tried to catch her breath, waiting for her heartbeat to steady. Then he nibbled at her earlobe, his hot breath ruffling her hair.

“I’ve just had a taste of heaven,” he whispered. “Thank you, my love.”

He rolled onto his side, bringing her with him, so they lay face-to-face. He was still inside her, still a part of her, just as she now felt a part of him. No matter how long it took, no matter what battles they must fight, they had to be together. Bliss was a state rarely come by, and she’d no intention of settling for just a single night of it.

“Fitz—” she began.

“Ssh,” he said, suddenly throwing the bedclothes over their naked bodies. “There’s someone at the door.”

She clutched at him in mute horror, but it was too late for either of them to conceal themselves. There was the ominous sound of a key turning in the lock, and then the room was illuminated by a flickering lantern, held aloft in a slender female hand.

Alicia.