Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Amy
“A POX ON the caroling” was enough to persuade Amy.
She wanted to give in.
It seemed a long time since she and Colin had made love without the strain of conflict between them. Much, much too long a time.
She’d already removed her shoes and stockings, and her gown was a puddle on the floor.
With impatient hands, he pulled her chemise off over her head, nearly ripping it in the process.
After making short work of divesting his own clothing, he eased her down to the bed, running his fingers through her dark tresses and arranging them artistically on the pillows before coming down beside her.
He gathered her into his arms and for a moment just held her close.
In the still room, she could feel his heart beating against hers.
When he brushed the hair off her forehead and framed her face with his hands, his emerald eyes shone with such a deep, abiding love that her breath caught in her chest. With a soft groan, he covered her parted lips with his own.
His tongue plundered her mouth with reckless abandon, until both of them were breathless.
Her heart swelling with emotion, she raised a hand to skim his muscled chest, his sleek side, the smooth planes of his broad back.
Everything about him felt divine, yet also comforting and familiar.
Her fingers traced the scar on his arm, a reminder that he’d become a skilled swordsman many years before they met.
Enjoying the warm expanse of his skin, she brushed her palm down his side to his hip, then edged around to find him hard and ready.
“No,” Colin whispered, his mouth against hers. “Not today.” He reached down to remove her hand, to lace his fingers with hers, to bring their joined hands to his lips. “This is for you, my love. Consider it my apology.”
Owing to all of his years with her, all of their minutes and hours and days spent together in love, there were few things he knew better than how to make her respond to him. What could she do but give in and let him take over? Let him take her where he would?
For long, sweet minutes he played her body, making her senses careen with the consummate deftness of a master.
Every intimate stroke of his fingers, every burning trail of his lips sent currents of desire pulsing through her, awakening the memories of him that she always carried with her, deep in her heart, all of the shared experiences that defined them through the ups and downs of their life together.
At long last he moved over her and glided down, the roughness on his chin and cheek grazing against her softness, his mouth hot and wet on her skin.
His lips traversed her sensitive inner thighs, leaving a damp, fiery trail of kisses in their wake.
Tantalizingly warm, his breath washed over her before the tip of his tongue touched her, tearing a ragged sob from her throat.
She trembled uncontrollably, lifting her hips to get closer still. As his mouth teased her mercilessly, she felt the blood coursing through her veins, spreading the familiar tingling weakness everywhere. She twisted beneath him, crying out his name.
He lifted his head. She opened her eyes and gazed down at him.
The eyes that blazed into hers were a deep, fathomless green, overflowing with emotion that words could never convey. His breath came in a deep, ragged rhythm as he hovered there, and she could feel his life force sluicing through his veins, to match the insistent throbbing between her legs.
“Now,” she said, her voice shaky and tremulous. “This is for you, too. For both of us. Come inside me now. Please.”
He hesitated, clearly torn between his intentions and her desires. “If you wish,” he whispered at last.
“I demand.”
“Well, then…” He came over her and slid inside her welcoming body with a single swift thrust.
Amy let out a long, soft moan. Having him there felt so right that tears of gratitude came to her eyes.
He kissed her, his mouth urgent and hungry, and she tasted herself on his lips.
He rocked against her, his hips maneuvering in a rhythm as ancient as time, and she matched his every move.
She could feel him holding back, feel the uneven tempo of his breath as he struggled for control, feel the staccato beat of his heart against hers.
And then, with a groan of capitulation, he let go, and she felt him pulsing inside her.
Feeling her own contractions burst forth, matching and melding with his, she arched herself closer, wanting him deeper, the two of them so in rhythm that she couldn’t tell where one of them stopped and the other started.
A while later, once their hearts had slowed, he came up on his elbows and brushed the tangled curls off her face with reverent hands. His lips grazed her eyelids, her forehead, one ear. “I love you,” he whispered there.
“I love you, too,” she whispered fiercely. Her arms tightened around him, crushing him to her. She kissed him with all the exquisite tenderness she felt in her heart, completely at peace for the first time in months.
“Tell me again,” she begged, putting a smile in her voice.
“I love you,” he said simply, and she didn’t doubt it.
Not for a moment.