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Ken’s chestrumbled with the pent-up desire that was working its way lower.
Mirabelle’s night rail was still about her waist but that would change in a moment. He wanted to see all of her.
He knew she’d not object. In fact, this bet had hardly been a fight. She’d been eager in his arms.
He knew she was a novice. Some of her touches lacked the finesse of experience, but what she lacked in knowledge, she more than made up for in eagerness.
Christ. Even now, desire flared in her eyes again. She wasn’t afraid of his nudity, she was excited by it. He watched the way her arms lifted, the way her body rippled with curiosity and want.
He’d won the entire pot. That he knew. Mirabelle was going to keep his bed warm all winter long for many seasons to come.
He slid his body along hers, letting his skin tease over hers before he reached a hand under her night rail and began pulling it higher and higher. He kissed a trail up her skin as he went, tasting her sweetness, so silky beneath his lips. And when the cotton material crested over her breasts, he stopped, sucking one of the nipples into his mouth.
She twined her arms about his neck again, her body lifting up to press into his as he turned his attention to her other breast. They were perfect. Full, round, just right for filling his hands. They deserved to be worshipped.
But as one of her bare legs wrapped about his hips, he slid higher, pulling the night rail over her head as his body settled against hers.
He tried to decide which was more enticing—the feel of their skin pressed together or the way the head of his cock settled into her slick folds.
He abandoned trying to answer the question and held her face between his hands. “It hurts a bit the first time.”
“I don’t care,” she answered, pulling him tighter to her. “I want to be yours.”
He groaned, his eyes closing for a moment. “We can wait, my love. Until our wedding night. I…”
“Ken.” Her voice was a high lilt and achingly gentle. “I’m ready.”
He slid inside her, just a bit, groaning at how her tight channel barely made room for him.
He felt her tense and he stopped, kissing her face as he held it between his hands. Her chin, her forehead, the spot where her long lashes fluttered on the shell pink staining her cheeks. Her nose. And finally her lips.
And then he pushed in a bit deeper. Her repeated several more times, wanting her to understand that he cherished her. Loved her. That he’d be as patient as she needed him to be to make this good for her.
And when he was finally seated inside her, his forehead fell to her collarbone. He was invigorated by the feel of her and exhausted by the restraint and he’d not change moment as he gathered her even closer.
“I love you, Mirabelle,” he whispered into her skin. “I don’t know when it started or how, but you’re my everything.”
He felt her draw in a deep, shuddering breath. “You said I would know the moment that I needed to concede and you were right.” Her arms tightened about him. “I surrender. I love you too and there is nowhere else I’d rather be and no one I would rather be with.”
He lifted his head then, looking deep into her eyes. The truth of her words shone in the hazel depths of her gaze and he stared down at her, completely connected.
“When?”
“When?”
“Did you realize that?” He stroked small circles on her cheeks with his thumbs as he gently pulled out of her and pushed back in.
“Today. I suddenly realized what I’d nearly given up in my foolish quest and I…” She shook her head. “I was going to tell you earlier, but we were distracted.”
They had been.
Gently, he pushed into her again and then out, keeping his strokes light and easy until her body began to respond to them and her hips lifted to meet his.
Then, he quickened the pace, his own body tightening with the desire that coursed through him.
He gritted his teeth and willed himself to hang on as she moaned in his ear, her legs locking about his as she chased her pleasure.
