The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(80)

“Why won’t you kiss me?” His eyes blazed. With a swift turn, he twisted with her in his arms until he loomed over her, forcing her onto her back with her head against his pillow.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” she softly demanded in return.

He rested on one elbow and with his other hand played with her hair. His piercing gaze made her believe he saw every crevice of hope and longing in her being. “I’ve always kissed you. Now, your turn.” With that last statement, he lifted one perfect eyebrow in challenge. “We are to be married if you remember.”

His encouragement was the sweetest seduction. She dipped her gaze to the smooth skin of his chest. The perfect flow of muscles, sinew, and chiseled planes would have kept any artist spellbound. As a simple sheep farmer, what chance did she have to resist? None. So she reached for his broad shoulders. His skin twitched beneath her hands in response.

“Kiss me, I’m begging you.” His deep gravel tone reminded her of a smoke-infused whisky—sharp but mellow at the same time. Yet, there was a hint of vulnerability, a longing. One that made her believe she was the only woman who could soothe and love him the way he deserved.

She pressed her lips against his in a gentle touch of yearning. He rewarded her with a groan that vibrated through every part of her. In answer, her pulse pounded, and her body throbbed once again. She’d happily surrender all her reservations to this night and to him.

He deepened the kiss, and she sighed in response. His tongue coaxed and petted hers, then withdrew. She whimpered at the loss. Without preamble, her lips played with his and her tongue slid across his full lips. Pulling her tighter as if never wanting to let go, he groaned again and let her inside. Her tongue swept and explored until both were out of breath.

With his chest heaving, Michael pulled away and stared down at her. She would give him everything if he’d just keep kissing her. The tenderness in his expression was like a caress, one that made her aware of his every breath and every inch of skin where they touched. The beauty of it was almost incomprehensible. Even the air surrounding them seemed to shimmer with unspoken words of tenderness and love.

Such emotion could easily replace the need for actual nourishment. She could live off his attentions and kindness and never crave anything else in her life. No wonder these feelings held such power over a person.

He cupped her face gently, and the splay of his fingers against her cheeks made her breath catch. Gently, he trailed those same fingers down her neck, causing her nipples to harden in anticipation. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll die if you don’t touch me.” He made her believe she was truly precious.

“We can’t have any of that, can we?” he whispered as he slid his knuckles across her nipples.

Wanting more, she arched her back. The slide of his fingers against her bare skin made heat flash outward from her body as if struck by an uncontrollable force of nature.

He rose above her, and his breath caught. A look of awe crossed his face. “Oh, darling, look how beautiful you are.” He cupped one breast, then nestled the underside with his mouth. She closed her eyes and allowed the sensation to take control.

Each kiss, each stroke, each graze of his teeth caused a new restlessness within her. She’d experienced desire before, but this was different. This was hunger, one only he could satisfy. She stroked his back as if playing an instrument. The slide of her fingers down his skin made each muscle contract. His response to her touch made her want him more. As if he knew what she wanted, he slid his body over hers.

She spread her legs, and he settled his hips against hers. Hot, hard, and unbelievably large, his erection slid through her folds. She cried out, then stilled. It took every piece of willpower she possessed not to angle herself to take him. He quit attending to her sensitive breasts and gazed into her eyes.

“My God,” he whispered. “You’re ready to come again.” The shock was evident on his face, but he recovered quickly. His fingers lightly danced over her abdomen and slid through her nether curls until he touched her sensitive nub. She bucked in response.

Yes, that was what she needed. Instead of saying the words, she moaned and lifted her hips as if offering him anything and everything if he’d just continue to touch her there.

“Darl—” He broke off and closed his eyes. He inhaled and held his breath. Slowly, he released it. He took possession of her mouth with his tongue mating hers. Her taste still lingered, and she reveled in it.

He continued to kiss her until he took her hand and placed it on his erection. “Feel me. I want you so much I’m in agony.”

The hot, hard length throbbed in her hand as his pulse pounded through the thick vein that twined around the underside. She traced the silken head in her hand. On instinct, she gently squeezed, and he hissed. Her gaze shot to his, and he smiled as if encouraging her to continue. She released a ragged breath as the sensation of different textures of touch, scents, and sights curled into smoky clouds in her head.

He laced their fingers together and raised her hands over her head where he rested his elbows next to hers. He nudged her nose with his. “We don’t have—”

“Yes, we do,” she whispered. She took possession of his mouth just as he’d done to her earlier. He shifted slightly, and his cock barely entered her.

Inside, she could feel her muscles clenching for more—more of him. She moaned his name as her body prepared for release. With infinite care, his mouth brushed hers and, inch by inch, he moved inside her.