Notorious Pleasures (Maiden Lane #2)(102)

“No.” He bent and licked her throat.

Goose bumps rose over her skin, making her nipples come almost painfully erect.

“I think I first fell in love with you when you threw that earbob at me,” he whispered against her skin.

“How could you?” she gasped. She wanted to take her arms out from underneath the covers, but his weight on the sheets prevented her. “You were making love to another woman.”

“Not making love,” he contradicted her choice of words. “I never made love until I met you. And besides, it doesn’t matter. I forgot her the moment I saw you.”

She laughed, though her lips trembled. “Do you expect me to believe such balderdash?”

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, tugging the sheet lower on her bosom. “Believe me and love me in return.”

He raised his head, and she met his gaze, suddenly serious. “I do. I do love you.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “When did you know?”

She bit her lip, wishing he’d go back to kissing her, wanting at the same time to draw this out endlessly. “You’re fishing for compliments.”

“And if I am?” He took the coverlet between his teeth and tugged it down beneath one breast. He hovered over the nipple, close enough that she felt his hot breath, but he didn’t touch her.

“I think it was when you kissed me at Harte’s Folly,” she whispered.

He snorted. “You thought I was Thomas.”

She laughed. “I didn’t! I was only teasing you by pretending I thought you were he—you’d made me so irritated. I’d never mistake you for—Oh!”

He’d leaned down and delicately taken her nipple between his teeth. She felt the flick of his tongue against the sensitive tip, and then he was sucking strongly on her.

She moaned, low and shockingly animal.

He let go of the nipple. “You were saying?”

“I’d never mistake you for another,” she whispered, watching him from beneath half-closed lids. “We talked about true love on that first night. Do you remember?”

“How could I forget?” He pulled the coverlet down another inch and exposed her other breast. Idly he played with her nipples. “I had an uneasy feeling, even then, that you were the one for me.”

She swallowed, having trouble forming words with his hands working so exquisitely on her. “You are my true love, Griffin, now and forever. Sometimes when I think how close I came to turning away from you out of pure cowardliness, I want to weep.”

“Hush,” he murmured, brushing kisses over her lips, still pinching and fondling her nipples. “You didn’t. We are together—and we’ll remain together. Forever.”

“Promise?” she whispered beneath his lips.

“Promise,” he said just before kissing her deeply.

When he raised his head again, she was wet and wanting, but he still had her pinned beneath the coverlet.

“Are you ever going to let me go?” she asked.

“No,” he said, looking very satisfied. “I think I rather like you in this position, unable to move or object to whatever I want to do to you.”

She squirmed a little, feeling the slide of the silken covers against her bare skin. “I do like this, but it does have one drawback.”

“What is that?” he asked absently as he traced circles on her breasts.

“I might find it hard to kiss you.”

“What do you mean? It’s easy enough for…” He trailed away as he obviously rethought her words.

“Not there,” she purred. Really, she’d had no idea she could make such a sound.

His gaze flew to hers, suddenly very green and hopeful. He was off the bed in a thrice, doffing his clothes eagerly.

Hero took the opportunity to remove the covers. She lay like a wanton, head propped on one hand, watching as her husband, nude and gloriously erect, turned to her.

His gaze swept over her naked form and came to rest on what she knew was the blush on her face. “I love you.”

“I love you as well.” She inhaled, feeling very scandalous as she crooked one finger. “Come here and I’ll give you a kiss you’ll never forget.”

And she did.

Epilogue

Queen Ravenhair walked into her stables and found there, away in the back, her stable master currying her favorite mare. “My suitors have all fled, Ian,” she said to the man.

The stable master looked faintly surprised. “You know my name, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, drawing nearer. “I wonder if you might answer me a question?”

“I’ll do my best,” said he.

“What is in my heart?”

The stable master threw down the curry brush and turned to face the queen. He looked at her gravely with warm brown eyes. “Love, Your Majesty. Your heart is filled with love.”

She raised a haughty eyebrow. “Indeed? And will you tell me what is in your heart, Ian?”

He stepped closer and took her dainty, white hands in his own big, calloused ones. “Love, Your Majesty. Love for you.”

“Then I think you ought to call me Ravenhair, hadn’t you?” she murmured as she kissed him.

He threw back his head and laughed. “I am far from perfect, my darling Ravenhair, but I would be the happiest man in the world if you would take me as your husband.”