He kissed along her arms, nuzzling the inside of her elbows, then moved down to her neck and nibbled there, sucking gently over the point where her pulse raced. She squirmed, and he chuckled and stopped briefly to kiss her mouth again before moving down to her breasts.
He decided to spend a bit of time there and settled himself comfortably to pay her nipples the attention they deserved. Now she’d warmed beneath the covers, her nipples had relaxed, and he took the soft peaks into his mouth and sucked, enjoying her moans and the way the skin tightened to a hard bud in his mouth. He knew not every woman enjoyed her breasts being paid attention to, but it was soon clear that Eva wasn’t one of those, and she was obviously content to let him arouse her in this way. So he did the same with the other nipple, sucking it to a bud, then moved languidly backwards and forwards between the two, taking his time to flick them with his tongue, cupping each breast in his hand and enjoying the weight of her, the swell of her in his palm.
By this time her breathing had grown irregular and she was almost writhing beneath him, so he finally, rather reluctantly, left her breasts and kissed down her stomach and across to her hips.
He wasn’t quite ready to give her the pleasure she so deserved, so he sat back and lifted one of her legs and kissed her foot, ran his tongue along her instep and the sensitive skin inside the ankle, then up the silkiness of her calf and slowly up her thigh. The skin here was velvety soft, pale, smooth as silk—she’d obviously shaved or waxed that morning, and he enjoyed brushing his lips along it to the crease of her thigh, revelling in the warm, earthy smell of woman, the rich, exotic scent of her.
He moved up slowly, tantalisingly touching his lips to the triangle of curly dark hair, then continued up to lay beside her. Tracing his hand up her inner thighs, pushing them apart a little, he moved his fingers lower, then lower still, until they slid into the warm, soft skin between her legs.
She closed her eyes and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
He sank his fingers deeper into the moist warmth and leaned down to kiss her mouth as he stroked her. She was swollen and slippery, very aroused, and her heart thudded against his, her breathing rapid and uneven.
Gently, unhurriedly, he moved his fingers down into her, testing, exploring, before bringing them back up coated with moisture to circle the button at the top.
“Open your eyes,” he murmured.
She did so, her lashes fluttering, to meet his gaze.
“I am going to taste you now,” he told her, loving the way she looked up at him, totally trusting, full of desire. “Okay?”
She swallowed and gave a little shake of her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He tipped his head, amused, still circling with his fingers. “Why?”
“Because I…I don’t think I can last…”
He laughed at that. “Who says you have to?”
She looked startled. “Well, I just thought…”
“Plenty of time, armas, before this little adventure is over. Think of it as a meal with more than one course, eh? This is just a starter.”
“Gosh,” she said, “you’re an angel, aren’t you? Come down to Earth to fill me with Christmas spirit.”
“I have heard it called many things, but never that!” He began to kiss down her neck again.
She giggled, but the laughter turned to sighs as he nibbled her breasts again, then shifted between her thighs. He lowered himself down, slid an arm under each thigh, and kissed her pubic hair.
“Merry Christmas,” he teased. And then he slid his tongue into her soft skin.
Eva exclaimed out loud, and Rudi had to fight not to do the same. It had been so long since he’d done this, he’d forgotten the exquisite sensation of taking a woman in his mouth, of tasting that musky sweetness, of giving pleasure to someone else, which was a gift that could never be matched.
He moved his hands between her thighs and spread her wide so he could access every inch of her, admiring the way she parted for him, her moist skin glistening, before he penetrated her with his tongue and licked and sucked until she gasped and wriggled beneath him.
She sank her hands into his hair and, encouraged by this and sensing she’d told the truth and wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, he slid two fingers inside her and concentrated his mouth on the silky pearl, teasing it out of its shell and feeling it swell and harden in his mouth. He murmured his approval, encouraging her on, and felt a glow of satisfaction as she tightened around his fingers, flooding them with moisture, her fingers clenching in his hair and her body stiffening as she came with a series of erotic sighs and moans that had his own body swell in response.
As the little pulses on his fingers died away, he pushed himself up and quickly rolled on the condom he’d left to one side, then moved on top of her and lowered himself down on his elbows so he could kiss her.
She looked drowsy and dreamy, but he hadn’t finished with her yet.
“Wake up, sleepy,” he murmured, licking her bottom lip and then plunging his tongue inside her mouth. “Time for the main course.”
She murmured approval and wrapped her legs around him, and he guided the tip of himself into her, groaning as the sensation of her wet, plump skin welcoming him in.
He paused there, though, wanting to make the moment last, desperate to hold onto the beauty of the sensation as long as he could.
She complained and wiggled her hips. “Rudi! Please…”
“Wait,” he scolded. “Slowly, for God’s sake, or it will all be over in seconds.”
Her lips curved, but she did as he bid and wrapped her arms around his neck, waiting for him to proceed at his own pace. He pushed forwards a little, looking deeply into her eyes as he did so. Jesus, it was beautiful to sink into her, like wrapping himself in thick, warm velvet. She met his gaze, encouraging him, and eventually he couldn’t stand it any longer and pushed his hips forwards, fully sheathing himself inside her.
They both groaned, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her tight around him, hot, wet and swollen.
“Vittu,” he mumbled, withdrawing a little before pushing forwards again, deeper this time.
She kissed him. “What does that mean?”
“Fuck.”
She laughed, and he did too, before kissing her and beginning to move properly, rhythmically plunging in and out of her hot body that welcomed him and spurred him on with its wet slipperiness.
“God, Eva, you are so beautiful.” He groaned, struggling to hold onto his self-control. He cupped her breast and lifted the nipple, lowering his mouth to it, and teased it with his tongue until she sighed and met him thrust for thrust, her own climax obviously building again.
“Rudi,” she gasped. “Oh my God…”
He worried that he was thrusting too hard, pushing too deeply. Not everyone liked it rough, and he didn’t want to hurt or scare her. He tried to ease off, but to his surprise she hooked her ankles behind his back and tightened her thighs to encourage him to thrust even deeper.
“More,” she whispered.
And that pushed him over the edge. He wanted to hold on and watch her come again, but he’d denied himself this for too long, and she was too wonderful, and his body took over from his brain and decided it couldn’t wait any longer.
He picked up his speed, let instinct override intention, and basically just lost the plot, overcome by feeling, emotion and sensation, filled with the touch and smell and taste of her until he couldn’t think of anything else. He was overwhelmed by a basic need to possess her, consumed by a fierce desire to wipe her mind of her husband, so she could think of him, only him. He swept his tongue into her mouth even as he plunged into her, and was rewarded with her deep, guttural groan of pleasure. Encouraged, he kissed down her neck to her breasts, sucked her nipples hard, and her nails bit sharply into his back in response, a sweet pleasure-pain contrast that was like the cool air outside the duvet on their hot skin, the hardness of him inside the velvet softness of her
.
She lifted her arms above her head and relaxed her thighs, and her look up at him—with dilated pupils and lips swollen from kissing—drove him to the edge. It was as if she had let go of the final remnants of her reserve, as if she was saying I’m yours, just take me, do with me as you will. It was possibly the most erotic moment of his entire life, that moment of abandonment, of a woman giving herself to him completely, and it was his undoing.
Heat rushed up through him, his muscles tightened, and he groaned as he spilled into her. He surprised himself by resenting the barrier of the condom, wanting with a primeval urge to flood her with his seed. How basic and feral and fucking wonderful the act was, especially this moment, when his attempts to be gentle and considerate were overridden by the thrust of his hips as he pushed forward, driving into her, no longer able to control his movements.
Only as the final pulses died did he feel her clenching around him, and he continued to thrust slowly for her, drawing out her orgasm and heightening her pleasure as he ground his hips against hers.
Gradually, they came back down to earth. Still inside her, he waited for his heart rate to slow, the race of it mirrored with hers against his ribcage as he slowed to mild, tender thrusts. He gave her long kisses, tasting her, enjoying her, gentle again now he was in control, and making the most of that beautiful moment, of the afterglow of passion, full of warmth and affection for this woman who had understood what he wanted, what he needed, and had given herself so absolutely, so completely to him.
Their heartbeats slowed, their kisses grew softer, and outside, the icy flakes fluttered down on the fields, coating everything in a thick layer of virgin white.
Chapter Twelve
Eva lay still, eyes closed. Beneath the covers, her skin stuck to Rudi’s, even though outside the air was cool.
I’m not surprised I’m so hot, she thought, running a hand slowly down his long, smooth back, damp with sweat. He set me alight.
She’d never had sex like it. Damon had been her one and only experience with lovemaking. He’d been attentive enough and most times they’d had sex she’d had an orgasm, but he hadn’t been over-zealous on foreplay, and although he had never voiced it in so many words, his lack of zeal when it came to oral sex had convinced her he wasn’t keen.
He’d never treated her like the man who had just…well…worshipped her, for want of a better word. Who had put her pleasure first, then possessed her, claimed her so completely that she hadn’t held back even a tiny bit of herself at the end. They’d truly joined, she thought; for one moment it was as if they’d become one, a real meeting of the heart and soul.
Then, as he shifted on top of her, she realised how foolish she sounded. They’d had sex. Really, really good sex, it was true, but let’s not start acting as if this is written in the stars.
He kissed her, a soft kiss, like a snowflake landing on her lips. “Armas?”
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see on his face. Impatience, maybe; relief, an Okay, we’ve done it, time for you to go back to your own cabin now.
Instead, she found a pair of bright blue eyes looking into hers with such warmth and affection that it melted her heart.
“Hello,” he said, and kissed her again.
“Mmm, hello,” she replied when he finally lifted his head.
“Am I hurting you?” He was still inside her, and gave a little movement of his hips, stirring sensations where she’d thought she’d never have the energy to feel anything ever again.
“Mmm, no.” She slipped her arms around his waist. “It’s lovely.”
So he kissed her, and nuzzled her neck, and murmured little Finnish words in her ear that she didn’t understand but that sounded lovely and complimentary, and when he finally withdrew and moved away, they both sighed with disappointment.
He disposed of the condom, then came back to take her in his arms. Rolling her onto her side away from him so her back was against his chest, he propped himself up on the pillows and pulled the duvet close around them, and they curled up to look out at the snow.
She nestled into his embrace, comforted that he hadn’t asked her to leave, or got up to make a cup of tea or even rolled over to sleep. He continued to press light kisses on her shoulder, then up her neck when she tipped her head to the side, and she giggled as he nibbled her earlobe.
“Stop that,” she said. “You’ll get me going again.”
“Oh, Eva. You little temptress.”
She laughed. “I love the way you make me feel like a siren. I’ve been a mother for so long, I thought I’d forgotten how to be sexy. Nappies, bibs, dummies and sippy cups are all I’ve thought about for years.”
“You are still very much a woman.” He slid his hand down over her ribs, her waist, the swell of her bottom. “I can vouch for that.”
She turned onto her back to look at him, wanting to reassure herself that she wasn’t dreaming—there really was a Viking in her bed. “Are you for real?”
He waved his hand in the air. “No, I am just an illusion.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m not normally this lucky.”
He just smiled at her and settled more comfortably, propping his head on a hand, continuing to trace patterns on her skin beneath the covers.
Her gaze lingered on him, noting his ruffled dark-blond hair, a tiny, barely-noticeable scar on his cheekbone probably obtained as a child falling off a bike or something, the way the hairs curled very slightly on his chest. His blue eyes had a touch of orange in them, around the edges of the irises.
His smile widened at her continued stare. “What?”
“I was just thinking that it’s strange… I know so little about you.”
He shrugged. “What do you want to know? I am an open book.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a laugh. “Where to start? How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Both parents Finnish?”
“Yes. My father died a few years ago, heart attack. Frieda—my mother—lives very close to me in Helsinki, and she looks after Isabel a lot when I am away.”
Eva nodded. “And you were married to…”
“Vanessa. She is half-English.”
“And she treated you terribly, so you left her.” She’d meant it as a joke, a light-hearted way of finding out more, but the way his smile faded told her she’d hit close to home.
All he said, though, was, “It was an amicable separation.”
She touched his face, stroked her thumb along his cheekbone. “Were you terribly hurt?”
He turned his head to kiss her palm, then sighed. “To be perfectly honest, we probably should not have got married in the first place. We met at a function, and she is very beautiful and elegant, and played the part very well, you know? Comfortable in social situations, a good hostess. She wanted the money, the position, and I needed someone to make me look good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That sounds terrible. There was more to it than that, of course.”
“It’s okay, I understand.”
“I did love her—very much. But after a few years, when Isabel was three or four, I grew tired of the parties and the socialising. I wanted to develop the business, to work. I began to travel more, and she was busy at home with her friends and her job—she is an actress, mostly theatre work. We began to lead very separate lives. We grew apart, and when we were together, we argued more until we realised there was not really anything left worth fighting for.”
She studied his face, sensing there was more. “You met someone else?”
He smiled. “No, she did.”
“That must have been hard.”
He sighed and his gaze drifted to the window, to the snow falling more thickly now, lining the sills with white. “I walked in on them. I had come early from a trip. Isabel was at my mother’s. I had suspected, actually, but to see them together, in our bed…” His jaw knotted.
“Oh, how awful. What did you do?”
/> He looked back at her. To her surprise, his lips curved. “I punched the guy.”
Eva giggled. “You didn’t.”
“Knocked him flat.”
She shook her head. “I can understand why. It must have been terribly hurtful to see your wife with someone else.”
“To be honest? By that point I think it was more to do with my manly pride, such as it is. I already knew my marriage was over, but to sleep with another man, in my bed? That is just…how do you say…”
“Taking the piss?”
He laughed. “Yes.”
She trailed her fingers down his chest. “And since Vanessa?”
“Work, work, work.” His eyes met hers, filled with smiles.
“Truly?” A warm glow spread through her.
“Truly. I have not even come close to seeing anyone else.”
“Then why…?” She knew she was pushing for a compliment, but couldn’t seem to help herself, too thrilled with the thought that he’d not been with anyone else until he met her.
He bent to kiss her. “Want me to show you again?”
Her eyes widened. “Again?” She lifted her head to look at the clock, worried that they were going to be late to pick up the kids, then realised there was still over an hour left.
He kissed her shoulder. “Normally I would say no way, but Eva, your skin is like silk, and you smell so heavenly.” He rolled her onto her side again and nestled close behind her, and began to stroke her, fingers skating down her body, circling her breasts, teasing the sensitive skin. “And enough about me. Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?” She spoke dreamily, watching the snow outside, thinking how beautiful it was.
“Where do you live?”
“A flat in London. Not far from Damon’s parents.”
“But you are from New Zealand originally?” His fingers brushed her nipples, and she caught her breath.
“Yes. A Kiwi. My mother died when I was very young. My father brought me and my sisters up. He was very strict. I didn’t get out much and I was very shy. Damon is…was…my only lover.”
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