A Taste of Desire(108)
Between urgent caresses and kisses so scorchingly hot he was amazed the mattress hadn’t caught afire, they managed to divest him of every single piece of clothing. Only then could he have her underneath him, whimpering and gasping in rapturous delight. Her delectable breasts, her splendid thighs, and the notch there that promised endless gut-wrenching ecstasy, drove him ever onward, reaching for the satisfaction only the summit could bring.
Amelia was lost to everything but the man between her thighs, her body ready, wet, and awaiting the feel of him, hard and hot inside of her. She clutched his sweat-dampened back with both hands, urging him closer. But he pulled back and levered himself up, while keeping his hands bracketing her hips. Strands of blond hair lay plastered against his forehead, his shoulders and chest heaving from passionate exertion.
Widening her thighs for the coming pleasure, Amelia blinked in surprise when his hands, which had been on her hips, moved to her bottom, kneading the giving flesh briefly before carefully flipping her onto her stomach.
Startled, she shot a look over her shoulder, taking in the dark intensity of his expression as he slid a pillow beneath her hips to prop them up. A ragged groan emerged from his throat, and beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face. His hands urged her thighs wider apart and then cupped, rubbed, and petted her buttocks. Her head dropped limply back onto the pillow. His fingers found her aching, wet sheath. Amelia wanted to wail and scream for more, but could only manage half-tortured sobs. Driving her hips back, her arms reached behind to bring him closer.
In one sharp jerk of his hips, he plunged into her. It was a tight fit, an excruciatingly good fit, a deeper fit than before. His pace increased with each sumptuous thrust. Before long he was pummeling her into oblivion, the peak so intense for a moment she was sure she lost consciousness. A grunt then a long hiss rent air humid with passion and lust signaled his release.
They remained like that, him still buried to the hilt inside her while her sex continued to contract around him, each catching their breaths as they floated down from the euphoria of their climax. When she found the strength, she rolled onto her back and reached for him. He came instantly, embracing her, kissing her as if he never wanted to let her go. Her sleep that night was the best she’d had in years.
Amelia was looking at the perfect tableau of Christmas morning: a family gathered around a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. The countess cradled her daughter in her arms while the earl held their son. Catherine was down on her knees, oohing and aahing over a flounced moss green velvet gown she pulled from a bulky box and held up against her torso. Charlotte, however, Amelia noted, sat perched on one of the nearby armchairs, plucking on the bow of a small box as she sent timorous glances at Lord Alex, who watched the festivities with the indulgence of Father Christmas himself.
“This is for you.” Thomas had been digging about under the tree before retrieving a gaily decorated box. This he held out to her, his smile and piercing green eyes both tender and passionate all at once.
He had gotten her a gift. Her throat constricted and her eyes began to burn. Don’t you dare cry. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Swallowing, she blinked the vaguest notion of tears away and accepted the round box with trembling hands. Their hands brushed. His eyes darkened, and Amelia had to fight to keep her mind in the moment and not think back to last night.
Focus. But her fingers lacked coordination and it took her much longer to open the box than it should have. When she finally did, nestled inside was a stunning sapphire necklace. She gasped and clamped her hand to her mouth. She turned wide eyes up at him. “It’s beautiful, but I can’t accept this,” she whispered, her voice fraught with emotion.
“You most certainly shall.” His voice was loving, but his tone indicated this wasn’t a fight she would win.
“But everyone will think—”
“Who?” With an eyebrow raised, he briefly scanned the occupants in the room. “These are my family and friends, not strangers. And believe me, Missy and Rutherford wouldn’t dare judge our relationship.”
Amelia looked again at the necklace. What exactly did a gift like this mean? It wasn’t a betrothal ring. Did he want them to continue as lovers? Could she live with that if that’s all he was willing to offer?
“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” she choked. Despite being overwhelmed with emotion, she remained dry eyed, as tears of happiness were something her brain could not comprehend.
“Let me.” He stood close, his scent an intoxicant to her senses. His warm breath disturbed the tendrils at her nape. With the ceremony of a formal marriage proposal, he removed the necklace from the box and secured it around her neck. The sapphire was a solid, cool weight against the exposed skin of her chest. The brush of his hands against her neck and shoulders felt more intimate than a kiss and had her heart bursting in restrained jubilation.