“To what?” he said against her skin.
“To experience them with you . . . on a bed.”
He lifted his head. “A bed? Where do you see a bed?”
“Is there no place you can take me where we could have a bed to ourselves?”
After several tension-filled moments, he said, “There is an inn inin the next town, Delatour.”
She could barely contain a shout of joy. “There is? How wonderful. How long would it take to reach there?”
“A few hours. Not long.”
She gave him a big smile and threw her arms around his waist. “Will you take me to the inn in Delatour and show me carnal pleasures?” None of this would come to pass. She ignored the pang of regret that whispered through her. Her body burned for him, but there was something greater at stake here than her physical gratification.
He gave a nod. “We’ll stop at Delatour.”
She’d done it! “Thank you.” She beamed, then stepped away and moved toward the food basket.
He caught her arm. “But we’ll begin the carnal pleasures now.”
9
Jules yanked Sabine up against him. She flattened her hands against his chest.
Her sense of triumph dissolved.
As did her smile.
“But . . . the inn. The bed. Wouldn’t it be good to wait?” She was too aware of the length of his body against hers. And the raw desire still streaming through her blood.
“It will be good here,” he wickedly promised, untying the ribbon securing her hair and tossing it onto the blanket. “We’ll have a bed. Later. I’ll have you again at the inn.” His fingers unraveled her braid. “I’m afraid patience isn’t one of my strengths. I don’t like to wait for what I want.” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder, captured her distended nipple between his fingers through the cloth of her chemise and lightly pinched. She gasped and fisted his shirt. He held the tender tip firmly, letting the pressure build into scintillating throbs. Her breathing spiked. “These pretty nipples are hard, wanting to be sucked. And we both know you’re warmed and wet. You don’t want to wait any more than I do.” He leaned in. “You want to be taken right now, don’t you?” he murmured in her ear.
Gently, he tugged and twisted her nipple with devastating finesse, sending a continuous stream of stunning sensations through her system. The only response she could muster was a whimper.
Just when she thought she’d cornered him, he’d cornered her once more. There was no way out. She was too far into this scheme to quit.
He lifted his head and met her gaze, clearly wanting a response.
Damn him and damn the way he made her blood burn.
She cleared her throat and ceded. “Yes,” she said on a pant.
Ah, but now you’re free to enjoy him
. The thought had such staggering appeal.
He gave her one of his stomach-fluttering smiles, dimples and all. “Yes, what?”
“Yes . . . I want you to . . . take me now.” She wanted it so badly, it hurt.
He trapped her face between his strong hands and claimed her mouth in a hot hungry kiss. It sent her up in flames. An attack on her weakening defenses. She parted her lips, desperate for more. He didn’t disappoint and thrust his tongue into her mouth.
He had the most delicious taste. He gave the most dizzying kisses. The wild impulses he inspired were dazzling. She was spinning out of reality and into a world of dreams—a magic only he could weave. Gripping his shoulders, all she could do was hold on for the ride. He stripped away her clothing, every brush of his fingers against her skin sublime. She ached to be filled by him. The initial discomfort she’d experienced the last time was a small price to pay for the blinding pleasure that followed.
“Undress me,” he growled against her mouth. Trembling, she realized she was down to her chemise and
caleçons
, yet couldn’t muster shock.
Not when her mind was focused on seeing his beautiful body again—the lure of touching him beckoning and beguiling her.
Fumbling, she managed to slip his doublet off his broad shoulders, down his arms, and onto the ground near the heels of his boots.
His hands slid down her back, over her derrière, and slipped beneath her knee-length chemise. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her up to her toes and ground her against his erection. A groan of pleasure escaped them both.
He set her back down. “Continue. Don’t stop now.” His breaths were quick and shallow, matching her own.
She grasped his shirt but couldn’t free it from his breeches. Impatient, he pulled off the article and tossed it to the ground, then grasped her wrists and placed her hands on his bare chest.
“Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me.”
Oh . . . yes
. . . Years ago she’d longed for it and had imagined it at least a thousand times in her most private dreams.
Slowly, she ran her hands down his muscled chest, savoring the feel of his skin, the ripples of his abdomen. His skin was warm. So inviting. He closed his eyes, sucked in a ragged breath, and let it out in a forceful rush.
His every heated response elated her. Incited her. Moisture seeped from her sex. He swore. “Take this off.” He grabbed the hem of her chemise and removed it with a yank.
His heated gaze moved over her body, his tactile regard like a hot caress over her skin. He reached out and cupped her breast. She braced herself for the jolt of pleasure coming her way. He stroked his thumb over her nipple. She couldn’t stop the mewl that escaped from her lips.
“They look even better in the sunlight,” he told her. “You have such pretty nipples . . .” His thumb drew lazy circles around the tormented tip. “And best of all”—his voice dropped low—“they’re so very sensitive.”
Before she could ready herself, he hauled her to him, swooped in, and sucked her nipple into his hot mouth. A cry erupted from her lungs. She threw her arms around his shoulders and arched hard against him.
He gently bit and sucked the sensitized peak. She moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. This was exquisite torture, each hungry pull of his mouth causing her sheath to clench.
He turned his attention to her other breast and created the same heated havoc, her nipple at the mercy of his skillful mouth, plying her senses with each rasp of his tongue and suckling sensation. Shaking, she squeezed her eyes shut, unsure how much longer her legs would hold her weight.
The moment his fingers yanked on the ties on her drawers, her
caleçons
slipped down her legs and fell to her feet.
He picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and set her down on the blanket, his actions surprising her. Towering over her, he stripped off the remainder of his clothing. His heated regard holding her riveted, she pulled in her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs, and watched.
He stood before her, completely unclothed and at ease. His rigid shaft snared her attention.
She looked away, her confidence faltering.
Jules knelt down in front of her and sat back on his haunches. He knew what she was thinking.
“There’ll be no pain this time,” he reassured her, not wanting anything to interfere with the sexual abandon she’d been experiencing. She stirred such intense carnal hunger, it was difficult to remember her lack of sexual experience.
The blush on her cheeks only made her silver eyes more vivid. She tightened her arms around her legs. “I want you to kiss me again.”
Now there was a request no man would turn down. “I’m going to kiss you, Elise.” Every last inch of her edible form. “Everywhere.” Pulling her arms loose from her legs, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Then, wrapping his fingers around her ankles, he lifted her feet one at a time and placed them on either side of his thighs.
Though she was deliciously aroused, she stiffened slightly, her knees still together. Inexperience and inhibitions getting in the way. He wrestled to control his fever for her.
Dieu
, he couldn’t believe how strongly he wanted this woman.
He settled his hands on her bent knees. “Spread your legs,” he coaxed.
She bit down on her lush lower lip, pausing a moment, before she relaxed her legs enough for him to ease her knees apart.
“That’s it. A little wider,” he urged until her knees spread to his liking. “Good. Just like that.”
She sat very still, her long flaxen locks cascading over her back and arms. He devoured the sight before him, watching as her sweet breasts rose and fell with each quick breath, her pert ultrasensitive nipples looking so tempting, begging to be sucked again. He took in her smooth belly, and the dark blond curls between her legs, taking his time to linger on her clit, so swollen with need.
And her glistening sex. Pink, trickling with desire.
Ripe for the taking.
Lust licked up his spine. The memory of slipping between those pouty folds, sinking into her, made his cock throb; a spurt of pre-come leaked from his prick. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget the delicious feel of her tight sex.
He scored his finger down her wet slit. She gasped and jerked.
“You are beautiful,” he said. “Every part of you.”
He rose to his knees, urged her onto her back, and balancing on one hand, leaned over her. His other hand on her sex, he lightly fingered her, keeping her keen, avoiding her clit. Not letting her come. She gave an impatient little squirm.
“You’re so wet. You’ve no idea what that does to me.”
Softly panting, she glanced down at his cock. “I believe I have some idea. Some things are
hard
to miss.”
He laughed. Despite her innocence, he loved it that she couldn’t stop herself from looking at his prick each time the opportunity presented itself. “You’re learning quickly.” He lowered his body, partially covering hers. She quickly slipped her arms around him.
He gave her clit a light flick. Her hips jerked and she moaned her approval.
“
More?
”
“Yes!
More . . .”
She pulled him down for a kiss. “Too much talking,” she said against his mouth. “Not enough kissing.”
He smiled, then took command of the kiss, turning her famished kisses into ones that were languorous and lush. She was delightfully different from any woman he’d ever known. He was accustomed to dictating in and out of the boudoir. Looking to please him and maintain his interest, the women always deferred to his demands during sex. Elise had a will of her own, and spoke her mind when she felt the need. It was novel. And from her, appealing.
He eased two fingers inside her slick core, slid them out, and then glided three fingers back in, gently stretching her, muffling her mews with his mouth.
He pumped them in and out of her, adding a fourth finger, listening to her whimpers, noting the random jutting of her hips as she encouraged him on—her clench around his fingers making his heart hammer harder.
“Does that hurt?” He knew from her reactions it didn’t, but he wanted to hear her admit it.
She buried her face in his neck. “
No
. . . I want . . . I need . . .”
“I know what you need, beautiful Elise.”
Jésus-Christ
, he needed a release just as bloody badly.
Pulling his fingers out, he reached up and grasped her wrists, pinned them down onto the blankets, giving her a fast hard kiss before he moved his ravenous mouth down her neck, to her breasts. Pausing long enough to bite and suck, lick and tease those luscious pink teats, he relished every shudder and sensual sound he wrung out of her. She arched to him, urging him to linger.
But he had another destination in mind.
He released her wrists and trailed his mouth lower—down her belly, to the top of one velvety thigh, before heading toward her soft wet sex. Realizing his intent, she tensed. He granted no quarter, shoving her legs wide apart with one quick movement. He lowered his mouth and licked her slick slit.
She lurched and gasped.