Nash’s arms around her. Nash’s firm chest under her fingers. Nash’s tongue seeking her own.
She splayed her fingers over the warm skin of his collarbone then down, smoothing over the crisp hair there. Sweet sensations swirled through her and down, pooling low, low, low. Behind her closed lids, she was lost to a world of desire, a world where she was so much more than a cold, small, shivering woman scared by a bit of wind.
In Nash’s arms, she was desired, powerful. When she moved her fingers, he shivered, and if she pressed the kiss deeper, he groaned. To think she had power over this handsome, bold man was astonishing and she was hungry for more.
She shifted closer, pressing her breasts against his chest. The tips ached all the more at the contact, yet it brought some relief at the same time. He groaned again, bringing his hand up to her face to keep her close while he explored her mouth. His hand slipped down and around, under her arm to feel between them. A warm palm settled over her breast and she sighed, relaxing into the hold.
He smoothed and cupped and palmed and she tilted her head back. He trailed his lips down her neck, causing tremors to trip down her spine. Eyes still closed, she waited, breath held, while he moved his mouth farther, skipping over her collarbone then nuzzling to her breasts. The warm heat of his mouth over the fabric covering her nipples made her gasp. He grazed over it with his teeth then sucked.
Sweet Mary, no amount of reading books could have prepared her for this! She opened her eyes to watch him taste her through the fabric, one breast, then the next. She’d never understood what books meant by painting images as erotic, but she knew now.
And she’d never forget this.
She coiled her fingers through the silky soft strands of his dark hair and closed her eyes again. Who knew what would happen next but for once in her life, she did not care. She was willing to go forth with Nash, without reason, without thought.
The door squeaked and the bed dipped slightly. Heavy paws kneaded their way onto her lap, and Nash stilled. Reluctantly, Grace opened her eyes to find Claude settling on her lap between them. The cat lifted his hind leg oh so elegantly and began cleaning his nether regions.
“I suppose I should be thanking you,” Nash muttered to the cat. He straightened, easing away from her.
“Thanking him?”
“Much longer and I might well have completely broken my vow not to touch you.” He shoved a hand through his hair.
“I do believe you did touch me.”
He grimaced. “I did. But no more, Grace.” He shook a finger. “I really do not know why it is so hard to resist you.”
She should have been insulted perhaps. After all, why would he be attracted to a skinny, boyish woman like her? However, if he had never touched any of the other women, that had to mean something, surely?
“We are designed to want to procreate.” She patted the back of his arm. “It is only natural.”
“I am not certain anything I feel for you is natural.”
She scowled. “What on earth does that mean?”
“It means...” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He eased off the bed and offered her a hand. “Let us get you settled in the other room. At least it is more than two doors away from me. Maybe the distance will help.”
“Is it so wrong to want to kiss me?”
He eyed her. “Grace, I want to do more than kiss you, and, yes, it is very wrong. You are innocent, naïve.”
She lifted her chin. “Not that naïve. I know how sex works.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “Of course you do, but that does not mean you should partake in it. Especially not with someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” she echoed.
“Someone who has vowed to behave where you are concerned. Someone who...well, it does not matter. Just trust me when I tell you your first time should certainly not be with me.”
She took his hand and let him escort her to the other bedroom, Claude hooked in one arm. She had a thousand arguments running through her head but none of them were any better than but I want to have my first time with you.
Not very logical.
She certainly wouldn’t win any arguments with that, especially seeing as he might very well be correct. He had some secrets and she was certain he’d been a rake in his past—all the indicators were there. Why else would his friends make him vow not to touch her? Really, he was doing the sensible thing.
For once in her life, she really, really did not want to do the sensible thing.
Nash lit the fire and checked the window was secure then turned to her where she stood, arms clasped around her waist, too aware that her nipples were still hard and the image of him just there would not leave her mind.
“Get into bed, Grace.”
“I really do not want to.”
“Do it,” he ordered with a sigh.
She bit back her own sigh and padded across the room, settling under cold sheets. He gave one last reluctant look as he left the room. “Be a good girl and lock the door.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
“I mean it.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I unlocked my door.”
Nash turned to find Grace in his bedroom doorway. He cursed silently. Two days and he had managed to resist kissing her again. But it had been damned hard.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been thinking,” she said as she shut the door behind her and turned to face him one more time.
“Always a dangerous thing,” he murmured.
“Well, because I have been kidnapped people will make certain assumptions about me.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The chances are, a young woman snatched by men would be, well, taken advantage of.”
He let his scowl deepen.
“They will be ruined, Nash,” she explained as though he was slow indeed.
Which he was feeling right now. Everything felt slow—his breaths, his movements. His ability to kick her out of his bedroom and away from danger.
“So?”
“So, it is clear to me, after some thought, that we are both feeling some sort of a reaction between us. For some reason, biology wants us to procreate.”
He nearly choked on his breath. “Biology?”
“It means the science of life.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it before,” he muttered. “But procreation?”
“Nash, I have little desire for a child.”
“Then what…”
“Well, seeing as I will be ruined anyway it seems logical that I fornicate with you.”
He stared at her for a few moments, taking in the utterly sensible expression to the innocently laced hands in front of her. Was he dreaming?
“Nash?” she prompted.
“What did you say again?”
“I wish to—how do you say it—bed you.”
He swept a hand through his hair. “Good Lord.”
“I am fairly certain you would not be averse to it.”
He laughed dryly. That was an understatement. “Grace, you are an innocent and I—”
“I expect nothing from you,” she said quickly, “apart from your expertise in the, um, fornication department.”
“Dear God, please cease saying fornication.”
“Sex then?”
Either way, it wasn’t good. She offered herself up on a platter and he had little control in him to deny her.
Her throat worked and she reached behind her then turned slightly, peering at him over her shoulder. “Will you help me with the laces?”
He moved with leaden feet, unable to resist but knowing he intended to break the only firm promise he’d ever made.
“Stop,” she said softly.
He halted, clenched his jaw. He stared at the laces in his hands. She twirled around to face him, and he let the laces fall from his grasp. Her fingers grazed across his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. The milky expanse of one shoulder was just visible
and his gaze darted down, drawn to the enchanting sight of bare skin.
Nash’s hand shot out before he had even realized what he was doing and he let it linger above her shoulder, the desire to touch her making his skin itch. The heat of her skin seemed to penetrate the gap and his hand shook with restraint.
He had hated his father for breaking his vow to him. Was he really going to do the same?
“Have you…that is, do you not wish to touch me?”
He snapped his gaze to hers and noticed a hint of vulnerability dancing in her expression. “God,” he rasped. “I want to touch you more than anything.”
He closed the gap in a sudden rush of movement, and she gasped while he groaned at the feel of soft flesh under his hand. Who knew a damned shoulder could elicit such a reaction?
When she shifted her shoulder slightly, her gown slipped farther down one side, and became caught just above her breast. He spied the rosy edge of a nipple, just peeking over the edge of her stays.
Very well, apparently it was not just shoulders that were the undoing of him. Edges of nipples made his entire body heat too. He dipped a thumb underneath her gown and undergarments and rubbed unsteadily over her hardened nipple.
Grace sighed and closed her eyes as he caressed her breast. He found it hard to move away from this one breast, even knowing there was far, far more to explore. Maybe if he just stayed here, all would be well, and he wouldn’t ruin her and wouldn’t condemn himself.
With a slight shrug of her shoulder, her chemise slipped completely off her breast and he stared.
“I know men have a liking for large breasts but—”
Good Lord, this woman needed to turn her mind off for two seconds. A slight growl left him.
“But I have come to conclude you still want me.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“I still want you. But you should not offer me this.”
“It’s entirely rational too, I assure you.”
It did not make a difference how matter-of-factly she put it, he knew he shouldn’t. But he’d be damned if he was going to deny her. Nash cursed and buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her to him for a kiss. He skimmed his lips over hers, nibbling and sucking, and he felt her tremble. The hard points of her nipples brushed his shirt and she moaned. He absorbed the moan, probing his tongue into her mouth and she met it eagerly.
Her hands skimmed down to his belt and she undid it slowly. It dropped to the floor with a thud and he drew back to allow her access to his shirt. Carefully, she loosened the laces at the neck, her gaze locked on his. As she leant forwards, he brushed a kiss across her forehead and swept his thumb over her cheek. Together, they yanked his shirt over his head, and she smiled at him.
Her fingers extended slowly out, playing across the coarse hair of his chest, tracing down the ridges of his stomach. Nash’s muscles contracted under her touch and he sucked in a harsh breath. She studied him and he allowed it, offering himself up for her research of him. Her other hand joined in now, skating over his collarbone until she flattened both palms over his chest.
His throat worked as she traced her finger down it before placing a kiss at the base of his neck, where he felt his heart thud.
Nash needed to pull her gown fully off her. But he had yet to do so. Maybe, in the back of his mind, he thought he could still resist her.
Unlikely.
She must have sensed his uncertainty because she gently drew his hand toward the neckline of her gown, urging him to pull it the rest of the way down. His resistance crumbled and he tugged it down, along with her stays, revealing her other breast. Sweat pricked on his brow.
He shoved the fabric from her—the combination of stays, a chemise, and thick, unwieldy gown down. The last of his restraint dissipated then. How could he resist such an offering?
She shucked the rest of her clothing down and tugged off the stays with relish. He drew her to him, sucking in a sharp breath at the feel of her skin against his. She wriggled so her nipples rubbed across his chest.
Grace whimpered and he hissed as she shifted her hips, pushing against his agonizing arousal. He might well explode at any moment.
Dying to feel her against him in her entirety, he yanked off the rest of his clothes. He heard her breath catch and he stilled. Had he scared her?
Tentatively, she reached out and carefully explored the length of him. There was no embarrassment in her movements, just a chaste fascination. Nash restrained himself from thrusting into her hand, but she could never know how much willpower it took. He dare not frighten her away for it would likely be the death of him.
Her hand curled around him. “Did I do this to you?”
“Yes,” he grated out.
Ever so slowly she released him, drawing her gaze back to his. “Touch me, Nash. I want to be yours.”
“Yes,” he growled and took her in his arms.
She buried her face into his neck, curled her fingers into his chest hair as he carried her over to the bed.
He laid her down gently and resolved in his mind to savor every precious moment with her. Nash positioned himself next to her, propping himself up on an elbow so he could take in the full glory of her.
With his hands, he spread her dark silken hair about her and fingered the strands where they fell about her body. She rose to meet his touch, her eyes flickering shut and her lips parting in a quiet moan. Silently, he traced his finger down her profile, pausing to dip into her parted mouth. Her tongue darted out to meet his fingertip and he groaned at her unknowing invitation. Nash’s shaking fingers continued down the delicate arch of her neck before dipping between her breasts and circling around each nipple.
“Nash,” she whimpered.
He answered her with a searing kiss and clasped a hand around her breast, scraping his fingers over a hardened nipple. Grace met his kiss, but he pulled back before she could draw him in too deeply. His control was being sorely tested by this angel and he had no wish to push her further than she could manage, as much as his body said otherwise.
Ignoring her sounds of protest, he forced himself back and she soon quietened when he laid kisses upon her damp skin. She writhed underneath him, gasping at each touch of his lips upon her flesh. Nash kissed down her collarbone, lavishing attention on her breasts before moving down, down, brushing over her quivering belly. His fingers finally tracked a path to the juncture of her thighs, and he admired her before stroking across the sweet damp heat that awaited him.
GRACE JOLTED AT his touch, but he placed a large, reassuring hand on her stomach, holding her down before tentatively touching his tongue to her folds.
She jerked as a bolt of sensation rumbled through her, setting her skin alight. “Nash!”
Quickly overcoming her shock, she marveled at the teasingly blissful feeling of his mouth upon her sex and she answered his every move with a thrust of her hips while she coiled her hands into his hair.
Who knew a man’s mouth just there could do such things?
When she felt she could take no more, Nash slid a finger into her slick heat and she exploded, a cry wresting from her.
A luxurious lethargy cascaded over her and she looked at him with heavy lidded satisfaction. He slowly crawled his way back up to her, his large muscular body covering hers. He was careful not to place his weight upon her, as if afraid he would break her, but she enjoyed the feel of Nash’s hard thigh settling between her legs and his solid chest pressed against her sensitive skin.
Grace brushed her hands over his rolling muscles, using her fingers to sketch a path over each individual muscle, as he framed her head with his hands
His expression grew grim.
She frowned. “What is it?”
His throat worked. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
Grace knew she should be nervous—she had read enough to understand that the first time could be painful—but her curiosity would not allow her to back out now, not after what had just occurred between them.
She put her hands to
his rear.
He settled between her legs, burrowing his head into her hair and kissing her neck. Cautiously, he edged forward while he nipped and sucked her ear. The hard heat of him brushed her folds.
With a hurried thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She cried out at the sudden pain, tears forming as she clenched her eyes shut to block out the discomfort.
He waited, apologized again and again in whispers, brushing the tears from her cheeks.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
But the sting dissolved, and she became aware of a budding heat, deep in the pit of her stomach, and the awareness spread.
He pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.
He pushed forward slowly, and Grace intuitively responded to the slight movement with the raising of her hips. He inhaled sharply as the movement brought him in deeper.
“Goodness,” she whispered. This was unlike anything she could have imagined. No research could have prepared her for such a sensation.
She mourned the loss of the pressure in her when he pulled back but was immediately gratified once more when he lunged again and her whole body tingled.
She pulled him down to kiss her and his tongue delved into her mouth with the same urgency as his thrusts.
Grace could only whimper as the onslaught took hold. She gripped his shoulders and held on for dear life. All thoughts of notes and logic and reasoning were gone. The pressure built and built as he drove himself into her, until finally he pushed his hands under her buttocks, lifting her so that the depth of his next thrust completely unraveled her, shattering her in every way.
She watched his face crumple when he pulled out and gave way to his own pleasure.
Goodness.
Chapter Seventeen
Grace eased out of bed and tiptoed to the door. She paused briefly to eye Nash as he slept peacefully. What a strange thing it had been to wake up next to a man.
What a strange thing the whole night had been.
Capturing the Bride (The Kidnap Club Book 1) Page 11
