Drago stood before the crackling fire in the living room waiting for Grace to appear. Newly changed into a t-shirt and cotton drawstring pants, he could do nothing more but wait. The fire roared its comforting hisses and flickered its yellow glow across the coffee table, upon which rested two glasses and a bottle of wine. The green-gold divan awaited them, coaxing a smile from him in spite of his serious thoughts. Everything was ready.
Clothed in her nightgown and robe, Grace once again sat before the dressing table mirror. Unclasping the silver hair pin, her dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulder blades as she smoothed her fingers through the thick mass. Taking a final look and a deep breath, she arose, ready to embrace what this night promised.
Hearing her approach, Drago looked up expectantly. His handsome face, powerful build, and casual appearance grasped her senses, allowing her to only stare in affectation as she stood before him. Her heart hammered in her chest as he spoke to her.
“Come and watch the fire with me, Grace.”
She moved without hesitation as he held out his hand to her.
“You are beautiful,” he added thickly, sliding his arm around her waist.
Her breathing quickened at his touch, and he sat them on the waiting divan, pulling her against his side. His hand remained snugly on her waist as the other brushed her hair back from her chin. She swallowed, eyes wide, the nearness of him overwhelming her, and he dipped his head to skim her lips with his.
Leaning back, he asked, “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
His eyes did not leave hers as his fingers traced down her neck and collarbone, then began retracing their way back again.
“I hope you are not disappointed that we are spending our wedding night at home. I know many couples travel right away,” he said quietly, continuing the seductive motion with his fingers.
“No..., I'm not,” she answered. “It's peaceful here. And Bratislava is new to me.”
He smiled faintly and bent for another brushing kiss.
“I did not want to make love to you for the first time in some hotel. I want our first memories of one another to be in our home,” he intimated before another deeper kiss.
His private nature had drawn Grace since their first meeting, and his thoughtfulness moved her deeply. Her response was to deepen her kiss in return, evoking a low groan from deep within him. He tightened his hold on her and pushed inside her mouth with his tongue slowly and sensually to allow her surprise time to bloom into awareness. Precious moments of exploration swelled desire in them both, and sensing this, they stilled, gazing at one another.
Needing to rein in his hunger, Drago redirected his soft grazes along Grace's jawline and down her long, slim neck as he moved to the floor in front of her. Taking the wine glasses from the table, he hoarsely urged, “Drink with me.”
Gaining her bearings, Grace lifted the glass in imitation of him and sipped the burgundy liquid. Holding his glass while still kneeling beside her, he drank again and began absently caressing her calf through the satiny nightgown. Once more he raised his glass, prolonging the interlude with deliberate forethought.
The uncertainty in her gaze at his pause evoked greater tenderness in him, swelling hope that his measured approach cultivated desire with care. Her cheeks were flushed prettily from their impassioned kisses, and she indulged in another swallow while Drago observed her a long minute before raising the glass yet again. She swilled the last of it, and he returned the empty glasses to the table and moved closer in front of her. He eased her knees apart and pulled her forward until he was between her open legs. Dark eyes intense, he kissed her neck, moving upward until his lips were at her ear, answering the question in her eyes.
“I thought to help you relax, Grace. That's all.”
“Oh,” was all she managed as his hands stroked her thighs through the nightgown, and his lips drew at her throat gently.
Grace was caught between the pleasure of his current endeavor and the intimation of what would yet come. Grasping his muscled arms at his return to her mouth, Grace gave herself up to Drago's gentle attentions, her rosy lips plumping under his, and warmth spread wherever his hands touched her.
Drago forced himself to maintain a leisurely pace, determined to awaken fully his bride's ardor. Needing to feel her skin, he slid the robe down, baring the flesh of her slight shoulders, his warm kisses following immediately behind the receding gown sleeves. Stroking her exposed arms only proved inflammatory, and Drago's purposeful discipline began to crumble.
His hands refused to remain still. As he ran them over Grace's hips and back, they became possessive of each curve and flare of her body. Rubbing down her behind, he crushed her forward into himself, and with want for more of her, he kissed his way down to her tiny breasts still hidden beneath the nightgown. Through the thin material, Drago felt her flesh tighten under his unwavering mouth, her sighs assuring him of her pleasure.
Her tiny hands roved over her love's powerful shoulders and back, and Grace marveled at each ripple of muscled heat discovered. At the hint of his warm mouth on her breast, Grace inhaled softly, delighting in the pleasure that spread outward and gathered between her thighs. Her hands instinctively sought his face, caressing Drago's temples and dark hair, and she began to ache for his touch, his kiss, his gaze wherever it was not.
Urgency gradually replaced leisure, and Drago, no longer as gentle, possessed Grace's mouth with a ferocity that both unsettled and illuminated her emotions. He cradled her against his chest, breathing her sweet essence into his lungs and stroking her hair before he stood and held his hand out for her. It was a silent invitation to follow.
Grace stood beside the bed, her heart overflowing with emotion. Drago turned to her, his burning gaze captivating as wide hands clasped her waist. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she met the sensual kiss he offered.
“Grace,” he murmured into her mouth. “I want to look at you.”
With those words, the hands at her waist slid slowly up and pushed the satin straps down her limbs. Grace held her breath as the cool material fell from her, exposing her skin to Drago's reverent gaze. Caressing down her side with the back of his hand, he spoke in a husky voice.
“You are so beautiful.”
Feeling the gown pooled at her feet, Grace stood immobilized, heat flushing her body and cheeks at being naked before him. Drinking in the sight of her, he removed his shirt, casting it to the floor, and moved to enfold her face in his hands. Tenderly, he touched his lips to hers. As their kiss lingered, Drago pulled her against his chest, the contact of their bodies sending a rolling wave of fire and ice through Grace's veins. She shivered against him.
“Milujemta,” he murmured against her cheek.
Searching her brown eyes, he saw her faith in his love.
“Drago, I want this night to be wonderful...,” her voice trailed off, hinting at her naivete about the situation.
“It is wonderful already, Grace,” he soothed.
He ravished her with firm hands, holding her against his solid physique while his tongue invaded her mouth, his hardness pressing against her soft abdomen.
Grace ran her palms over his strong, wide back and down to his hips, drawing a groan from him as he ground into her. His hand covered hers and brought it to feel the hard length straining against the cotton covering him.
“Feel how much I desire you, wife,” he said, backing her against the turned down bed.
Never breaking their kiss, Grace pulled the drawstring at her bridegroom's waist, allowing the material to open wide and fall to the carpeted floor in silence. Drago hissed with pleasure at her forwardness and backed a step away, wanting her to see his full arousal.
Her eyes widened at seeing his naked form. Apprehension tempered her awe at the sight of his proud erection thrusting out from narrow hips. Awareness of her own nakedness faded during her perusal of her husband's, and Drago took the opportunity to appreciate her lithe body before him. Toned arms
hung at her sides, allowing his eyes to watch uninhibited as high, firm breasts rose and fell with her breaths. Rosy nipples jutted out and up, demanding his attention. He knew his hands would span her tiny waist, and her hips curved nicely to meet shapely thighs.
Unable to remain apart from her, Drago moved toward her.
“Lie back,” he invited as he persuasively eased her onto the cream and cocoa bedding. Positioning himself beside her, his weight on his forearm, he fanned her dark hair to one side and found her lips skillfully while stroking his fingers over her exposed neck. He nipped her full bottom lip before claiming her mouth forcefully, his hand trailing lower, finding her breast at last. She moaned softly.
“Yes, milenka,” he quietly encouraged, “I want to know what pleases you.”
Drago continued his seductive assault, caressing her thighs, hips, and breasts tenderly while his mouth explored hers with fervor, heightening their arousal steadily. Grace's hands wandered his body with growing boldness, her belly tightening at each press of his manhood to her thigh.
Drago, sensing her blossoming submission to these touches, trailed to the secret place at her core. She tensed at the new sensation, but he gently corrected her.
“Nie, Grace. I want to touch you.”
He smoothed the skin on her thigh and began his caress anew, kissing down her throat. When his mouth covered her breast, Grace gasped and arched against his mouth. Fire burned through her, and her delicate hand found his engorged flesh. Drago slowly increased his caresses as she flooded his palm, intending to bring her to fulfillment before he claimed her body and caused her any pain, wanting her to expect pleasure at his future advances. Her gentle cries of passion washed over him as she moved under his hand, and he willed himself to maintain control under her powerful touch.
Grace surrendered her body to her lover completely. Reveling in each firm caress, her passion soared until a desperate wanting consumed her senses. Ecstasy flooded her mind and body at Drago's closeness, his breath on her sensitive flesh, his pleasuring strokes between her legs, until the intense pulse of her climax took her breath.
At her peak, Drago swiftly moved between her thighs, replacing his hand with his thick erection, rubbing his length over her to prolong her pleasure as he captured her yielding cry of delight with his mouth. Her hips opened to him willingly, rising to welcome his presence. He stilled then, watching her flushed countenance, waiting as her eyes opened and met his hungry gaze.
“Drago..., I never knew,” were her loving words to him.
He lowered his head and feathered kisses over her lips and cheeks, bringing one arm around to cradle the small of her back and the other under her head in a lover's embrace.
“I need you, Gracie,” he said, his voice deep and husky.
Grace wound her arms tightly about his shoulders and answered, “Love me, Drago.”
His black eyes bore into hers fierce and gentle, wild yet compassionate as he pushed inside her with deliberate languor, groaning low and deep as her body compressed his fullness. He stilled as soon as she stiffened in his arms, her eyes showing shock at his first invasion of her.
“Ah, sipková,” he whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be, love” she whispered, brushing her fingers across his face. “I'm not.”
And he pressed into her deeply, moaning with pleasure.
Grace held fast to him, stretched beyond comfort around his thickness, consoled by his encompassing presence about her. The initial pain lessened, and her taut body began relaxing as Drago's penetrating eyes knew her completely, as did his body. Tentatively, he moved within her, alert to her response, and when she remained relaxed, he lovingly buried himself within her tight form again and again, his pleasure building with each gentle thrust. Riding the edge of his control, prolonging their joining and his pleasure, Drago kept his unhurried pace, savoring his wife's softness against his hardened body.
She molded to him now, lips parted, her dark regard locked with his. His completion came upon him with suddenness, and he surged into Grace, seeking unity with her body and soul, emitting a violent cry as he spilled his seed deep within her.
Chest heaving, Drago whispered honest words of love and devotion between his kisses. Overcome with emotion, Grace cleaved to him, raining kisses across his lips, murmuring his name.
“Drago..I love you, too.”
The lovers remained entwined, greedy for continued closeness in the afterglow of their lovemaking, holding and caressing one another in the night.
* * *
Drago awoke in the night, reassured by Grace's body curved along his side. Instinctively his hand sought her, smoothing over her skin. Reaching to pull the blanket over her, he felt her stir, and her eyes fluttered open as she curled closer into his warmth.
“I did not mean to wake you.”
She only smiled up at him, running her hand across his lightly haired chest. He kissed her forehead and massaged her arm, slowly kneading up over her shoulder and down her side. Grace mimicked the gesture, running her palm across his ribcage and solid abdomen. He hardened instantly. Rolling Grace to her back, he stretched out at her side, chest hovering over her. Slanting his mouth over hers, he indicated his renewed vigor for her.
Grace enjoyed his ardent attentions, her heart quickening under his touch. Pulling him closer, her breasts grazed his chest, further stimulating her senses. Burrowed in his neck, she explored his skin with her mouth, inciting his passion fearlessly.
Drago hooked his wide hand under her knee and parted her thighs, pressing her open with his body as he sought her sweetness. He devoured her with his mouth, pulling her leg around his hip as he cupped her face and stroked her jawline with his thumb. He possessed her in a single thrust, stretching her to capacity, her muffled cry of pleasure and pain stolen by his unrelenting mouth. Buried inside her, his powerful hand gripping her hip, he rocked her deeper around his length, groaning his pleasure into her mouth. Sensually, he moved within her, pressing upwards to stroke her swollen pearl with each thrust, needing to feel her desire mount beneath him.
Awakened to the new pleasure of being filled by him, Grace rocked to meet his inward thrusts, instantly gratified by his gravely moan and her own climbing need. His pleasure encouraged her, and she synced her body with his, awed at the delights of their union. She cried his name aloud as he suckled at her breast, and his next pulse into her brought her to sweet fulfillment. A gentle moan escaped her throat as her body clenched him, taking him over the edge with her.
Drago spilled within her, his groan of oblivion reverberating through Grace's entire being. Thoroughly spent, the newlyweds drifted together into sated sleep.
* * *
Soft lavender dawn crept into the bedroom, rousing Grace from slumber. Watching the sky lighten, she lingered in the soft bed awhile before slipping soundlessly from its comfort and finding her nightgown. Padding to the kitchen, the spicy aroma of brewing tea luring her, Grace discovered the percolator.
Visnja and Ilija had thought of everything, even setting up the automatic brewing for morning, she mused.
Searching the cabinets and finding mugs, she set them on the etched-concrete counter in readiness for the finished brew, and pulling out a white, wooden chair, she settled at the honey stained table, watching the sun rise through the windows on the far living room wall.
She breathed deeply. Contentment enveloped her, and she contemplated the previous night's events, reliving each detail in her mind's eye. The rhythmic sounds of the percolator ceased, pulling her back to the present, and she poured the steaming tea.
Grace set the glass mugs on the side-table and climbed under the covers beside Drago. The movement awakened him, and he reached for her naturally.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
“Dubre rano, moja žena, Good morning, my wife.”
“Would you like some tea?”
Drago pulled her closer.
“Now this is the way a man likes to be awakened,” he te
ased. “A beautiful wife in his bed bearing morning refreshment. Yes, it is a good morning.”
Laughing softly together, the pair drank and talked while the city below came alive with the new day. This was to be their ritual throughout their married days, beginning the morning together, sometimes in soft conversation, sometimes in shared quietness.
The tall, pendulum clock in the hallway chimed the seventh hour, signaling the usual time Drago would shower and then eat to be downstairs to open his gym. This week, however, was different. This week was for him and Grace alone.
Invigorated at the peaceful start to their first day, Drago inquired, “How are you feeling? Are you very tender?”
He ran his hand down her body, stopping at the juncture of her thighs. Even after what had passed the night before, Grace lowered her eyes as a rosy blush crept over her cheeks.
“A little,” she admitted.
“You must soak in the bath. Come on, Mrs. Zadrovec. I want you feeling well.”
His raised eyebrow and crooked smile brought laughter to her as he lifted her from the bed. Her face blanched before turning a crimson red as she saw the reddish stains streaked across the bed linens.
“Do not be embarrassed at the evidence of your innocence, Grace. I am not.”
* * *
Grace sank into the steaming water with a sigh of ease. Submerged in its warmth, her body slackened, head resting on the edge of the spacious tub. Her dark hair was piled atop her head, and the humid air caused the few loose wisps to curl into loose ringlets around her face.
Her eyes examined the space, trying to become familiar with her new home. Ivory tiles covered the floor interlocked with smaller ones of burnt orange, blue, and sunflower yellow, creating an intricate pattern of color and shape. The plaster walls were painted a deep, cornflower blue, and against the ivory pedestal sink and tub it gave a crisp, clean feel to the room. A modest bench seat covered the radiator, and Grace imagined its warmth would be treasured through the winter.
Claiming The Prize Page 12
