Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(111)

She turned pink, and then her hazel eyes widened. “Max, you don’t think they’re going to…”

Max glanced over his shoulder at the closed door, and his amused gaze returned to hers. “It has become very quiet all of a sudden, hasn’t it?”

Lysette gave him a mock frown. “Maximilien Vallerand,” she said, “your sons are turning out to be nearly as impossible as you are!”

Max grinned arrogantly. “Little one, you would not have me any other way.”

As soon as the door slammed shut, Justin turned Celia in his arms and fastened his mouth over hers. She fought him halfheartedly, still incensed by how quickly he had jumped to conclusions. He held her more tightly, his mouth devouring hers until she shivered and relented. She arched against him, pulling at the white shirt until it came free of the doeskin breeches. Her hands slipped underneath the shirt, gripping his hard, broad back.

“Don’t ever let me see you kiss another man again,” Justin muttered against her throat. “Not even a doddering old grandfather. I can’t bear it.”

“Jealous…irrational…oaf,” she accused in fitful gasps.

“Yes.” He pulled her into the shelter of his body, urging her against the taut length of his arousal. “I love you,” he said roughly. Burying his face in her neck, he yanked at the buttons on her high-collared gown. He pulled the comb from her hair, and it fell down her back in a pale river of silk. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful…”

Flushed and dizzy, she stroked the back of his head and kissed his ear. “Not here,” she whispered. “Someone might interrupt—”

“I don’t care. I need you.” Seeking her mouth again, he explored the silky inner edge of her lips with the tip of his tongue. A soft whimper came from her throat, and he sealed his mouth over hers, his tongue reaching into her sweet warmth.

Celia tugged helplessly at his shirt until he let go of her long enough to remove it. Her fingers sank into the hair on his chest, digging into the thick wiry curls. “You did not spare me a thought,” she gasped, “with all those women bringing things to you…bottles of wine…”

“I had everyone in the Cabildo drinking toasts to your beauty.”

She gave a muffled laugh against his shoulder. “Are you truly free now? No charges, no more bounties…”

“I’m all yours.” He kissed her blond brows, her fragile eyelids. “It’s no bargain. Most people will tell you I’m a dangerous gamble.”

“And how should I answer them?”

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. “Tell them I can’t live without you.”

He lowered her to the settee and took her slippers off, then removed his own shoes. His heart began to drum heavily and he gripped her silk-stockinged legs in his hands, squeezing her ankles, calves and knees. Celia wrapped herself around him sinuously, sliding her mouth over the warm skin of his neck and shoulder, devouring his scent and taste. He pushed her to her back and eased the unfastened bodice of her gown to her waist until her arms were trapped within the long sleeves.

Crouching over her, he tugged the top of her chemise down with his teeth. Drawing her nipple into his mouth, he aroused it gently until she gasped and strained to pull her arms free. His head moved over her chest, and he murmured for her to be still. Slowly her impatience melted into languid pleasure, and she relaxed beneath him.

He stripped the gown off her, and her long-legged drawers with it, and tore the front of her chemise straight down the middle, spreading it open carefully. She unfastened the buttons of his breeches, freed his swollen arousal, and caressed him with dizzying sureness. He felt heat gather in his loins, chest, the vulnerable parts of his neck, until he had to pull her small hand away, his self-control crumbling. “Stop,” he muttered. “Too fast…wait…”

Celia lifted her silky perfumed body to his, her fingers trailing down his back in tenderly inquisitive touches. Groaning, he spread his hands over her thighs. He was more than ready to take her. He knew she could draw him inside easily, but he wanted to prolong the moment. Her kiss-reddened lips parted, and her arm curled around his neck, exerting pressure to bring his head down to hers.

Their lips blended, and suddenly he could not bear it any longer; he pushed her legs wide and entered her. The thrust drove her body several inches along the sleek surface of the cushioned settee. Gripping her more firmly, he moved again, and his knee slipped, and they both nearly slid onto the floor. Justin grasped for purchase on the slick upholstery, could find none, and cursed in a guttural tone. A small tasseled pillow was dislodged and fell onto Celia’s face. She began to choke with laughter.

“I’m so glad,” he said, picking up the pillow and flinging it viciously across the room, “that you find this entertaining.”

“Oui, very entertaining.” Celia wrapped her arms around his waist. “What should I do?” she whispered.

In spite of his frustration Justin grinned at her. “Hold on to me, mon coeur. We’ll find a way.” He pulled her body beneath his, braced one foot on the floor, and reached past her head to grasp the arm of the settee. The position afforded him the leverage he needed, and the rhythm began, slow and deep. Her eyes half-closed, she held him more tightly.

His mouth descended on her br**sts, her shoulders, her throat. Celia gasped as he moved between her thighs, as she felt herself gathering around him, and pleasure flooded through her until she couldn’t breathe. Shuddering in his arms, she sank into the flowing warmth of release. He pushed deeper and held himself there, his eyes closed, burying his deep cry in her mouth.