her vantage point below him, she saw his eyes darken beneath the golden fringe. Then he stepped back, and his gaze traveled the length of her chemise-clad form.
In return, she boldly perused him. Or at least she tried. Unfortunately, the shirt, which did reach his knees, hung from beneath his velvet surcoat, quite effectively concealing him from her view.
She stepped from the folds of her gown to come forward and tug off his coat. The shirt went next, over his head to join the clothes on the floor. At the sight of his bare torso, her knees went weak.
A light sprinkling of blond hair glimmered in the firelight. She reached to touch him, her palms flat against his chest, caressing, learning the indentations, the sleekness of his skin over the tautness underneath, the springiness of the crisp golden curls. Her breath hitched when his muscles twitched beneath her questing fingers.
"Jesus," Trick breathed. "You're no simpering miss now, are you? Are you sure you've never—"
"I'm sure." Kendra's cheeks heated. "It's just...you feel..." She hid her flaming face against his chest, certain he would think her wanton.
But those thoughts didn't stop her hands from continuing their exploration, moving around him to feel the hard, smooth planes of his back. His chest hair tickled her nose, and without thinking, her tongue flicked out to taste his skin, warm and just the tiniest bit salty. She licked again and inhaled his scent, sandalwood and Trick, musky and exciting.
"Goodness, I want to eat you up," she whispered under her breath.
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Be my guest." His voice came rough as his hands moved to pull the pins from her hair. "This marriage seems more suitable by the minute. I never dreamed—what is this?" He jerked back, holding up a long red curl, his face registering utter disbelief.
"It's a false curl. To make my hair plumper."
"Plumper? Who the hell needs plump hair?"
He raked his fingers through her tresses, coming out with two more curls and...
"Wires? Why wires?"
"To make the curls stand out." Kendra shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling like Medusa. She tugged her own hands through her hair, plucking out several more wires and three additional curls. "That's six? I think that's all."
"Where do you get these? Wait—I'd rather not know." He tossed the curls away in disgust and combed the tangles from her hair with his fingers. "Have you any more surprises for me, then? Is your pretty nose your own? Maybe some false hips are hiding beneath that lovely chemise?"
"No." Her hands went to her hips. "These are mine. You don't...they're too wide, you think?"
"Nothing about you is wide." He settled her hair over her shoulders, a curtain down her back. "Except perhaps your smile, and that hair, but we won't be seeing that again now, will we? Or should I have thrown those curls into the fireplace?" He laughed as his hands covered hers, his thumbs tracing her hipbones. "Ah, the better to bear my children, aye?"
"Trick, the things you say..."
"Ah..." He leaned over her. "The things I say are nothing compared to the things I'll do." His hands moved to cup her face, and he bent her back for a long, deep kiss.
Her knees buckled. Trick caught her, laughing low, and swung her into his arms to deposit her on the bed. She felt dwarfed in its middle, the bedposts and ice-blue damask towering around her, but when Trick came down next to her, the bed was the last thing on her mind.
"Does your maid do this?" he asked, working the gossamer chemise up her legs.
"N-no. At least, not like that," she breathed, feeling his fingers skim the sensitive insides of her thighs. "No one has ever done—" She gasped.
"It's glad I am to hear it." Refocusing his attentions, he moved up to tease her breasts, and she watched her nipples pucker beneath the filmy fabric. It was scandalous, but wonderful all the same. He drew the garment off her shoulders, then bent his head and fastened his lips on one rosy
In return, she boldly perused him. Or at least she tried. Unfortunately, the shirt, which did reach his knees, hung from beneath his velvet surcoat, quite effectively concealing him from her view.
She stepped from the folds of her gown to come forward and tug off his coat. The shirt went next, over his head to join the clothes on the floor. At the sight of his bare torso, her knees went weak.
A light sprinkling of blond hair glimmered in the firelight. She reached to touch him, her palms flat against his chest, caressing, learning the indentations, the sleekness of his skin over the tautness underneath, the springiness of the crisp golden curls. Her breath hitched when his muscles twitched beneath her questing fingers.
"Jesus," Trick breathed. "You're no simpering miss now, are you? Are you sure you've never—"
"I'm sure." Kendra's cheeks heated. "It's just...you feel..." She hid her flaming face against his chest, certain he would think her wanton.
But those thoughts didn't stop her hands from continuing their exploration, moving around him to feel the hard, smooth planes of his back. His chest hair tickled her nose, and without thinking, her tongue flicked out to taste his skin, warm and just the tiniest bit salty. She licked again and inhaled his scent, sandalwood and Trick, musky and exciting.
"Goodness, I want to eat you up," she whispered under her breath.
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Be my guest." His voice came rough as his hands moved to pull the pins from her hair. "This marriage seems more suitable by the minute. I never dreamed—what is this?" He jerked back, holding up a long red curl, his face registering utter disbelief.
"It's a false curl. To make my hair plumper."
"Plumper? Who the hell needs plump hair?"
He raked his fingers through her tresses, coming out with two more curls and...
"Wires? Why wires?"
"To make the curls stand out." Kendra shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling like Medusa. She tugged her own hands through her hair, plucking out several more wires and three additional curls. "That's six? I think that's all."
"Where do you get these? Wait—I'd rather not know." He tossed the curls away in disgust and combed the tangles from her hair with his fingers. "Have you any more surprises for me, then? Is your pretty nose your own? Maybe some false hips are hiding beneath that lovely chemise?"
"No." Her hands went to her hips. "These are mine. You don't...they're too wide, you think?"
"Nothing about you is wide." He settled her hair over her shoulders, a curtain down her back. "Except perhaps your smile, and that hair, but we won't be seeing that again now, will we? Or should I have thrown those curls into the fireplace?" He laughed as his hands covered hers, his thumbs tracing her hipbones. "Ah, the better to bear my children, aye?"
"Trick, the things you say..."
"Ah..." He leaned over her. "The things I say are nothing compared to the things I'll do." His hands moved to cup her face, and he bent her back for a long, deep kiss.
Her knees buckled. Trick caught her, laughing low, and swung her into his arms to deposit her on the bed. She felt dwarfed in its middle, the bedposts and ice-blue damask towering around her, but when Trick came down next to her, the bed was the last thing on her mind.
"Does your maid do this?" he asked, working the gossamer chemise up her legs.
"N-no. At least, not like that," she breathed, feeling his fingers skim the sensitive insides of her thighs. "No one has ever done—" She gasped.
"It's glad I am to hear it." Refocusing his attentions, he moved up to tease her breasts, and she watched her nipples pucker beneath the filmy fabric. It was scandalous, but wonderful all the same. He drew the garment off her shoulders, then bent his head and fastened his lips on one rosy
Similar Books
Scourge of the Dragons
Cody J. Sherer
Art Geeks and Prom Queens
Alyson Noël
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation
Joshua Jared Scott
The Smoking Iron
Brett Halliday
Kissing Under the Mistletoe
Marina Adair
The Story of Channon Rose: Lessons between the Lines
Channon Rose
The Deceived
Brett Battles
A Charm of Powerful Trouble
Joanne Horniman
The Body in the Bouillon
Katherine Hall Page