Chapter Seventeen #2
He pressed a lingering kiss to her nape and plucked hair pins at random, to free her restrained curls. When he had removed them all, he fanned out the silky ringlets, marveling at the thick, springy strands that spilled over her shoulders and down her back and smelled of roses.
“Now, step away from those clothes at your feet and out of your slippers, and face me.”
For the first time, she hesitated, glancing down at herself before drawing her hands up to cover herself.
Oh, no. He’d waited too long for anything as silly as that. He wetted the towel and, heedless of the dripping water, circled her to stand before her.
His lungs seized. With effort, he resumed breathing, albeit choppily.
Still holding the towel, he peeled her hands away from her.
A soft whimper sounded and he realized it had come from him. “You are so unbelievably lush and beautiful,” he managed, barely, then scoffed when she shook her head in denial.
“Darling, you are the most delectable creature I’ve ever beheld.”
She met his gaze, her expression bemused and doubtful and adoring all at once, as if he’d embellished for her sake.
Far from it. In that moment, he knew no woman alive could compare to Georgina with her luminous, mysterious eyes the color of melted silver, breasts high and round as melons with pink cresting nipples that demanded to be tasted, hips flaring in perfect symmetry from that tiny waist, and the triangle of dark, curly hair at her apex calling to him like a lighthouse guiding a ship home.
Trying to steady his breathing, hands shaking, he smoothed the towel over the column of her neck, and followed with his fingertips.
Georgina’s lips parted as if she suffered an overabundance of pleasure. He understood all too well.
Not so much as blinking himself, he drew the cloth lower, using the merest pressure to glide it over one perfect breast, then the other, as his knees threatened to buckle at her perfect, pink, puckering nipples.
Promising himself he’d return to those magnificent orbs, he smoothed the towel down her belly.
Silently, he crouched before her, breath fanning over her as he leaned forward to press kisses from her ribcage, to her belly, to the thin strip of hair and lower still until his lips lingered just above the thicket of dark hair guarding her secrets.
“T-Teddy?” she chirped, sweetly uncertain, even as her hands fluttered to his shoulders.
“Trust me, darling,” he gritted out. “Part your legs.”
Aside from a slight wavering of her body, she stayed still.
He looked up at her.
Her liquid-silver eyes were once again open, and her lips were softly parted. She was no mere mortal. His wife was a goddess walking the earth.
“Please, my love.”
She inched her legs apart.
Tossing the towel aside, he rolled one stocking down, then the next. “Lean on my shoulders,” he commanded in a guttural voice he barely recognized. When she did, he lifted each of her feet in turn and removed the stockings, tossing them blindly.
Then, he leaned forward and dipped his tongue through her damp curls.
Sweet Heaven. With one taste, he nearly came. She was scalding hot and slick with her own feminine dew. Her petals felt plump as ripe peaches, and he would die if he couldn’t sink himself in her heat.
She loosed an inarticulate cry of alarm and tried to step back from his questing tongue, but he held her fast, surged to his feet, and scooped her into his arms. In two long strides, he reached the bed, grasped the covers and flung them back. Then he laid her gently on the cool white sheets.
Shivering with the force of his need, and never taking his eyes off her, he stripped out of his clothes.
Then, finally, finally, he covered her body with his, took her mouth with his as she, in turn, reached for him, her arms straining to pull him closer.
God, her hands on him, silky smooth, blessedly cool, and seemingly desperate to touch every part of him, drove him to the brink of his control. He wanted all of her, all at once.
He slid his tongue along the seam of her luscious mouth, urging her lips apart ’til she parted on a gasp and he dove inside to taste, to touch. So sweet, so soft. Like champagne and melon and sweet, exotic female.
He needed more. His hips nestled into hers, his shaft so desperate for release he could swear he had come just a little already, for the love of everything holy.
Greedy for her, he allowed his hands free rein to roam her satiny skin and supple flesh, squeezing and tracing and memorizing every curve.
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
He eased his body down hers, kissing her jaw, the column of her neck, and finally, his lips grazed her bountiful breasts, seeking and finding one hard nipple, and oh, yes.
He suckled, nibbled, lathed, and suckled some more, cupping those magnificent swells until he whimpered, actually whimpered.
“Teddy, oh, Teddy, oh,” she whispered, her voice all but pleading, as her body shifted and shook with the force of her desire.
With every slide of her thighs against the tip of his shaft, his groin coiled, winding tighter and tighter until his insides screamed for release.
He had no protection against her siren’s call.
Not even close. One minute more of the torturous friction and he’d lose whatever semblance of control he still possessed.
Pressing his forehead into her neck, he gulped in breaths and tried to calm the raging desire storming through him, to bury himself in her snug heat.
Not. Yet. He ordered, and drew one shaking hand to her curls.
Georgina, for all her heady arousal, held her legs closed.
He needed to feel her. He had to. Had to learn her secrets, bring her to the brink as she had him.
“Please,” he begged. “Let me, sweetheart, let me touch you. I’m desperate to feel you.”
“It’s…it’s all wet,” she stuttered out, coaxing a huff of laughter from him.
“That’s good, sweetheart, as you very well know.”
“I…all right.”
He propped himself on one elbow to gaze down at her, losing himself in her quicksilver eyes, locked on him. Then he slid his fingers into her damp heat, parting her.
A low, helpless groan erupted from his throat at the satiny liquid and swollen flesh he found. Clenching his jaw against the fire of need threatening to consume him from the inside out, he sought out that one, sensitive bud.
Eyes never leaving hers, he grazed her lightly, circled her gently, teased her relentlessly, and gloried in the evidence of her heightening.
Her lips parted, her body jerked. “Teddy…Oh my God, please…I…” All at once, she reached for him, dragging him close as her hips and torso shuddered and bucked.
He reveled in the sight of her, the unbridled sounds she made, as her release crashed through her, not stopping his relentless pleasuring until she sobbed his name and her entire body went limp.
Then, he eased on top of her, drew his manhood to her core and fitted the tip to the entrance of her channel.
Her flesh still quivered from her recent climax, urging him to plunge into her heat, but she was so tight.
It had been two years since they’d been together, and then, likely, only the once.
He must be gentle with her. Make it good.
He pushed inside her, moving as slowly as he could manage. “You feel so good,” he gritted out, marveling at how her passage hugged him like a custom-made glove. Pleasure riffled through him. It was all he could do not to sink himself to the hilt.
Pressing a tender kiss to her lips, he smoothed the hair back from her face and inched deeper still.
She made a soft sound of…he wasn’t sure.
But then, she shifted beneath him, that mere friction heralding a rapid-fire warning from his lips. “Darling, don’t. I—”
As if deaf to his pleas, she shifted again and he lost the battle with himself. His hips, as if they had a life of their own, surged forward—right past the fragile membrane of her sex.