Free Christmas in His Royal Bed by Heidi Betts Page B

anything that would hurt or startle her. He hadn’t been with a virgin since he himself had been one, and he wasn’t sure exactly how to act. How fast might be too fast. How much might be too much.

    But Alandra seemed far from intimidated. Her arms and legs were in constant motion, shamelessly exploring his naked body. And she wiggled beneath him, making it difficult for him to hold on to his resolve.

    He locked his jaw and concentrated on breathing. His body was alive with sensation, his nerve endings electrified with need and lust and desperation.

    “Can’t you move any faster?” she panted at last, her back arching and nails raking his damp flesh.

    He raised his head to look down at her. Her face was flushed, her hair spread out in a gleaming mass on the pale satin sheets.

    “Is that an order?” he retorted, torn between amusement and disbelief.

    Her lips curved slightly. “A request. You’re treating me like I’m made of glass,” she told him, “and I most certainly am not. I may be inexperienced at this sort of thing, but I’m not fragile.”

    “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted.

    She lifted up from the mattress long enough to give him a quick, hard kiss. “You won’t. I can take whatever you have to give and then some.”

    There was only one way to respond. “My pleasure.”

    His tongue flicked out to tease a ripe pink nipple, and he was smugly satisfied to feel a shudder ripple through her long, lithe form. He kept at it, wetting both tips, suckling them into stiff, rigid peaks.

    When he had her shivering in his arms, grasping at his hair and whispering his name, he began to scoot her back, sliding her naked, pliant body across the silky coverlet. Then he grasped her hips and rolled, bringing her over him while he lay flat on his back.

    “They say a woman is responsible for her own pleasure. Show me what you want.”

    Alandra stared down at him, her heart fluttering as she went from being startled by the sudden change of position to feeling empowered by his sensual declaration. His low voice rumbled through her, bringing goose bumps out along her flesh, and he held her hips when she straddled him.

    A dozen sultry images of being in the lead and having Nicolas at her mercy played through her mind, and she loved every one.

    Spreading her fingers, she pressed her palms on his chest and leaned forward. Her hair fell around her shoulders, the ends tickling his skin. She saw his impressive pectoral muscles jerk, and felt him swell inside of her.

    Biting back a grin, she brushed her lips across the line of his jaw. “This is nice,” she murmured, kissing her way to his ear. “Having you beneath me, defenseless.”

    His fingers flexed where he gripped her. “I only hope I have the strength to withstand your torture.”

    “So do I.”

    Taking the soft lobe of his ear between her teeth, she tugged gently. At the same time, she rose up on her knees, just an inch, then slowly lowered herself back down. Nicolas groaned deep in his throat, and heat burst in her center.

    “Do you know what I really want?” she asked, watching her breath flutter the strands of his brown hair.

    “What?” The word came out harsh and strangled as he tried to hold back his base desires.

    “I want you to touch me. Everywhere. I love the feel of your hands on my body.”

    Immediately, he began to explore. His palms drifted to her buttocks, where he gave a little squeeze before sweeping back up the length of her torso to her breasts. Again his thumbs wreaked havoc with her nipples, and with a moan of her own, she kissed him.

    Sensations swamped her, raising her blood pressure and making her insides vibrate like the strings of a well-played violin. As good as she’d always thought sex might be, she’d never expected it could be this good. That a man—any man—could make her feel both hot and cold at the same time. Make her pant and purr, shiver and shake.

    Instinct kicked in and she began to