Too Wicked To Kiss Part 34

He stopped just before the tips of his boots brushed against her toes. He gazed down at her, serious, intense, the heat in his eyes betraying barely restrained patience. It was killing him not to take charge, Evangeline realized as she stared up at him. He was the sort of man who knew what he wanted, went after what he wanted, took what he wanted. And yet he did not. He was relinquis.h.i.+ng control for her her.

Her thin cotton s.h.i.+ft suddenly felt as thick and heavy as wool. Already she could feel her body responding to the masculine scent of his skin, the dark pa.s.sion in his eyes, the power in his taut muscles.

She reached out with one hand and skated her fingertips along the width of his shoulder, down the length of his arm. He didn't move. Holding himself in check. For her. Her body thrilled at the knowledge.

"Take off your jacket," she commanded him.

In a trice, he shucked the offending garment and dropped it at his feet. She kicked it away. Still his gaze didn't leave her face.

"May I divest you of your cravat?" She tugged at the snowy white cloth without waiting for a response.

He gave none; just waited, tense, letting her do as she would.

"And this waistcoat," she said. "We must take it off."

Fingers trembling, she fumbled with the first b.u.t.ton. When he stood there, strong, silent, unmoving except for his heart pounding beneath her fingertips, Evangeline grew bolder. She tossed him a saucy sideways look through her lashes as she slipped the b.u.t.tons from their holes. But when his waistcoat joined his jacket and cravat in an unceremonious pile on the floor, she hesitated before touching the last remaining bit of linen covering his chest.

"You...don't have to do anything you don't wish to," he said softly, the words coming out gruff and strained.

"I wish," she informed him just as softly, "to do everything."

His lashes lowered. His nostrils flared.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Evangeline pushed up with her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He caught her just as she pressed her lips to his.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his closed mouth.

When his teeth parted, she swept her tongue against his. He tasted just like she remembered. Spicy. Masculine. Potent. Leaving him tomorrow would tear her heart in two. At least she'd have tonight.

Reminded of their fleeting time together, she set to work removing his s.h.i.+rt as best she could between long, lingering kisses. Once unb.u.t.toned, she slid the linen sleeves off his wide shoulders, down the hard ridges of his arms. He let go of her long enough to let the garment fall to the floor, and then he pulled her to him. He held her against his mouth, his bare chest, his thick shaft.

When a now-familiar heat began to coil between her thighs, she pulled away just far enough to look at him. Warm firelight flickered across his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Her hands slid across the warm skin of his chest, the strange wiry hairs, the tensed muscles. She rubbed one of his nipples. It hardened beneath her fingertip.

"When do I get to do that to you?" he asked gruffly.

"When I ask you."

He frowned, as if more than half-regretting putting her in control of the evening's activities. "Ask soon."

"I will." She smiled up at him, a large part of her delighting in having the power to determine what and when and how. She pushed him backward until his thighs b.u.mped against the foot of the bed. "Sit. I want to take off your boots."

He sat.

She knelt before him, tugged his boots from his feet, tossed them aside. Fingers curving around a carved wooden bedpost, she pulled herself upright and then slanted him a suspicious glance.

"You're not the artist responsible for these hideous trolls, are you?"

"You don't like them?" he asked innocently.

"Insufferable man."

He grinned.

Once she'd stripped him of his stockings, she pushed at his chest until he fell back against the mattress.

Legs splayed, he propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. His arms flexed. His grin widened. She ran a finger along the edge of his waistband. His eyes grew serious, intense. Her hand hovered a hairsbreadth above the ridge creasing the fall of his breeches. His shaft pulsed, pus.h.i.+ng the material in brief contact with her fingers. She touched him again, gently, tentatively. As before, his shaft jumped against her palm. She cupped her hand over it, stroking down, stroking up.

Gavin collapsed against the mattress.

Evangeline froze, her hand still molded to his heat.

"What's wrong?" she asked nervously. "You don't like it?"

"No," he groaned toward the canopy. "I love it."

She smiled, gripped him a little harder, stroked again. His fingers clenched the bedsheet. She undid the b.u.t.tons of his fall to caress him again, this time without the c.u.mbersome cloth between his shaft and her hand. It was smooth, hot, throbbing.

"Give me words," she commanded.

"What?"

She squeezed a little as she tugged. "What do you call this?"

"Uh...my c.o.c.k?"

His c.o.c.k. Yes. It responded to her caresses by swelling against her palm, just like her body had responded to his caresses by heating and becoming damp.

She tugged down his breeches and paused when she caught sight of a thin red line slas.h.i.+ng across one hip. He had gotten that wound while trying to protect her.

"Will it scar?"

He lifted himself up on one elbow, shrugged. "Won't be the first."

She bit her lip. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I'd do it again." He gazed at her, his expression grave.

Evangeline stared back at him for a moment, silent, wis.h.i.+ng he weren't lying down so she could kiss him. Wait. He was hers to command, was he not? She could kiss him anytime she wished.

She tugged him forward until he was sitting up enough for her to cradle his face in her hands and touch her lips to his. His mouth opened hungrily beneath hers, licking, suckling, nibbling. When he slid his hands down her back to cup her closer, she pulled away long enough to yank off his breeches.

Finally. He was naked. And perfect.

She'd seen men in various states of undress before, but only in visions. She'd never held one, touched one, loved one. Everything she knew about lovemaking came from stolen glimpses of other people's lives. At last she would have a memory of her own. She lifted her s.h.i.+ft above her head and tossed it to the floor. There. She was naked, too.

Her nipples budded in the cool air. His c.o.c.k pulsed.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

She touched a hand to her head. "My chignon fell apart."

"I like your hair curly and loose and wild. The fire gives your silhouette a warm glow. I would like to paint you, just like that."

"Nude?"

"Utterly."

A thrill s.h.i.+vered down her spine. Could she do something like that? Pose naked, exposed, allowing him to commit every curve of her body to canvas? The very illicitness of his proposal only made the idea more erotic.

"Next time," she promised.

His half smile didn't reach his eyes. They both knew there wouldn't be a next time.

"Move up against the pillows," she directed him. "Lie in the middle of the bed."

Never taking his gaze from her, he complied. "Now I'm further away from you."

"Not for long."

Rather than lean his head back against the pillows, he propped himself up on his elbows again to watch her.

At the moment she was standing still, staring at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man reclining nude atop her bed sheets. The fire glinted orange and gold across his bare chest and long limbs. His shaft jutted toward his stomach. The muscles of his bent arms curved hard and strong. His wide lips looked firm, kissable. A hint of stubble shaded the line of his jaw.

The best part, the unbelievable, inconceivable, astonis.h.i.+ng part, wasn't merely his presence, but that she could have him without worrying about her cursed visions. She could touch him anywhere she wished, kiss him anywhere she wished, meld her flesh with his anyway she wished. He was a miracle, a gift, an answer to a secret prayer.

And tonight he was hers.

What should she do first? The possibilities seemed endless. The night, however, was not. Evangeline rounded the bed, climbed atop the mattress, lay on her side next to him.

"How long will you stay?"

Another pensive half smile flickered as he muttered, "I feel like I should be asking you that."

She brushed the soft dark hair from his brow. "I mean tonight."

"I know." He regarded her in silence for a moment. Then: "I told you I was yours to command, and I meant it. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

"Then I shall endeavor to stay awake."

"I can help with that." This time his smile reached his eyes.

If it were possible to freeze an image of him in her mind forever, then this was precisely how Evangeline wanted to remember him. His eyes crinkling, his mouth curved in a rakish grin, his body so close every inch of her flesh could feel his heat.

"May I touch you?" she asked.

"Anywhere."

"Thank you."

His grin widened. "I'm fairly certain the pleasure will be mine."

No, the pleasure would be hers. She reached up with one hand, cupped the side of his face, brushed the pad of her thumb against his cheek. She leaned over, pressed her lips hard against his. A brief kiss. She would take her time after she had a chance to explore him.

She ran her hand down his corded neck and along the width of his shoulders. His shoulders were so wide, his skin so warm, his scent so intoxicatingly masculine. She laid her head on his chest. Small wiry hairs rubbed against her cheek. His heartbeat thudded against her ear. She slid her palm from his shoulder to his hand and laced his fingers with hers.

"Gavin?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Yes?"

No. She couldn't say it. To give voice to her feelings would only make leaving even harder. And what if he didn't feel the same way? She couldn't bear to know. Not now. Not yet.

She unlaced their fingers and lifted herself on one elbow. She stroked his face, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his stomach, reveling in the different textures of his body beneath her palm. Parts of him were smooth. Parts of him were scratchy with tiny hairs. All of him was hard, strong, scalding to the touch. She scooted further down the bed and ran her hand along his thigh, his foot, his toes, then back up the other side until her fingertips brushed against the root of his shaft. It flinched.

"Does it hurt?"

He smiled. "Only in a good way."

She returned his smile, pleased to touch him without the enc.u.mbrance of clothing. She curled her fingers around the heat of his flesh, caressed, squeezed, stroked. He grew bigger, hotter, harder. She glanced up at his face. His gaze was locked on the movements of her hand around his c.o.c.k, his breath shallow, his muscles tense.

"If I keep touching you like this, would I be able to give you the same pleasure you gave me in your studio?"

His eyes flicked to hers. "Undoubtedly."

The naked desire in his unguarded expression filled Evangeline with a strange, glorious sense of power.

"I can do anything I want to you? With you?"

His eyebrows lifted. "I'm yours."

She hesitated, nodded, then rolled atop him. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s flattened against his chest. When she bent her knees on either side of his thighs and pushed herself into a sitting position, the hard length of his shaft pulsed between her legs. Her body responded in kind, becoming moist and swollen. She rubbed herself against him experimentally and gasped at the rush of pleasure to her hypersensitive...what? She wasn't sure, but the delicious sensation of her aching dampness rubbing in long, slow strokes up and down the length of his c.o.c.k had her tingling and trembling just like when he'd touched her with his finger.

"Do you feel me?" She ground her body against his again. "What I'm doing?"

"G.o.d, yes."

"What...what do you call it?"

He blinked. "Pre-lovemaking?"

"No, I mean the bit of my body rubbing against you." She did it slower, to demonstrate. "'Womanly parts' seems inadequate."

"Uhhh...I don't use polite words."

Her breath quickened. "Tell me impolite ones."

"All right." His heated gaze captured hers. "The vision of you astride me, rubbing your hot wet cunny against my c.o.c.k, is almost enough to make me come right now. I can't wait to bury myself inside you, to feel your body clenching around me, to make you come, over and over, until you take me with you."

She s.h.i.+vered at the pa.s.sion in his eyes and continued the intoxicating motion for a few moments before scooting upward to kiss him.