by Stella Riley
Distantly, Cassie wondered why she wasn’t embarrassed … why the way the heat in his eyes as they feasted on her only sent yet more sparks rushing through her blood and why answering heat was pooling low in her belly. ‘My back?’
‘Yes.’ He turned her slightly. ‘The most sinuous, desirable back I’ve ever seen.’
She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder while his curved knuckles followed the line of her spine and his other hand reached around to scorch a maddeningly slow path over breast, ribs and stomach to come to rest on the place where an increasingly impatient pulse throbbed. An involuntary and incoherent sound escaped her and she put her hand over his. Then he drew her closer so that the part of him he’d said could be ignored, pressed demandingly against her. Cassie trembled and said, ‘Sebastian?’
‘Yes, love. Come to bed with me.’
Down on to the soft velvet of the counterpane; down into a sea of delight as his mouth was finally able to follow the trail of his hands; down into a whirlpool of pleasure so exquisite that it was almost pain. Sebastian stretched his control to breaking point and beyond, determined to bring her to the ultimate fulfilment before he had to hurt her; and when she broke, shuddering and sobbing his name, still he managed to wait until he believed she was ready before finally – slowly and very gratefully – joining his body with hers. Cassie tensed, gazing up into his eyes and he waited again. Then a warm, loving smile lit her face and she pulled him even closer, saying, ‘Yes. Oh … yes.’ And somewhere in the distant reaches where thought still existed, it seemed the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him.
They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms and in the morning it was Sebastian who woke first and therefore had the pleasure of watching his love sleep, one of her hands tangled with his. Not for the first time, he wondered what he had done to deserve her and why he’d never suspected that this was what he had always wanted.
She woke slowly, stretching languorously against him in a way that had him sternly reminding his body to behave. Instead, he propped himself on one elbow and waited for her eyes to open.
Finally, she blinked up at him and smiled; it was the same smile she’d given him last night and it brought a wave of emotion so strong that for a moment he thought he might weep. In an effort to avert that particular catastrophe, he smiled back at her and said, ‘Good morning, Mistress Audley. How does it feel to be thoroughly married?’
‘Nice,’ she yawned.
‘Nice?’ he echoed. ‘Nice? That’s just insulting.’
‘Is it?’ Cassie smoothed her hands over his chest. ‘Well … now you mention it, it’s very nice. Quite lovely, in fact. Can I do this every morning?’
‘Darling, you can do it whenever you like,’ he promised. Then, thoughtfully, ‘Of course, there’s a price.’
‘A price?’ Having apparently tired of his chest, she began twining a lock of his hair around one finger for the fun of watching it spring free.
‘Mm. Or perhaps a reciprocal agreement might be a better term.’
‘Oh?’
She’d moved on again, this time to the morning stubble darkening his jaw. Sebastian had the feeling she wasn’t really listening. He found it hard to concentrate himself when he could see her taking ridiculous delight in each new and apparently fascinating discovery. Deciding that two could play at that game, he let his fingers drift back and forth over the smooth thigh lying invitingly across his own and said, ‘Do you still have the red dress?’
‘What?’
‘The dress you wore to Bedford House. Do you still have it?’
This finally got her attention. She said, ‘You didn’t like it.’
‘I never said that.’
‘You said it was a torment.’
‘And it is.’ He grinned and kissed her nose. ‘But it doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. Quite the reverse, in fact. And I’ve no objection at all to being tormented in private.’
Pursing her lips to hide a smile, Cassie considered this. Finally she said, ‘That sounds a trifle … naughty.’
‘Naughty?’ Sebastian tutted reprovingly, laughter dancing in his eyes. ‘My darling, the word you’re looking for is wicked. And I’ve a suspicion we might both enjoy it very much indeed.’
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