Mistletoe Wishes

by Anna Campbell

  Luxuriating in the barrage of wild sensations, he withdrew, then thrust to the limit.

  ***

  Felicity jerked under the ruthless invasion, even while pleasure flooded through her. As Edmund drove into her like a conqueror, she sank under his weight and strength. His animal hunger was astonishing. She arched up and crossed her legs over his back, holding him close.

  With startling speed, her incandescent delight in his passion spiraled beyond her control and became something greater. Something unfamiliar. Something focused not on his pleasure in her, but on her pleasure in him.

  A ravenous hunger that wanted to swallow the universe in one bite coiled in her belly, tighter and tighter with every thrust of his body. She moaned and dug her fingernails into his shoulders, as the volley of sensations intensified. The flagrant carnality of this union left her shaking. She poised giddy on the edge of some terrifying, glorious, inescapable precipice. The breath crammed in her lungs, and she closed her eyes in excitement and fear.

  Edmund growled as his movements became less controlled. He bucked against her, making the grand old bed creak. How she relished his uninhibited need. How she relished her untrammeled responses.

  Yet still she teetered on the brink of the chasm, desperate to cross over, but unsure how to break across the final barrier to whatever waited on the other side. Tears of frustration clogged her gasping breath.

  “Come over with me,” Edmund whispered into the side of her neck as he plunged, pushing her deep into the mattress.

  This was like a war. But magnificent and untamed and brilliant, too.

  “I can’t…”

  She strained against him, but that mysterious ending hovered beyond reach. Her blood thundered like a stormy sea, and her muscles ached with frantic longing. He pounded into her, his movements choppy and urgent.

  “You can,” he almost snarled. He tensed and thrust his hand between her legs to the source of that insistent ache. When he touched her hard, she bowed up and stepped off into clear air. The old Felicity shattered into a million sparkling crystals. She cried out on a high, pure note and shuddered into a release so exquisite and overwhelming, it was like streaks of lightning ripped through her.

  At last she was flying. As she soared, wild and free, she clung tight to the man she loved.

  With another long groan, Edmund jerked in her arms. Through her quaking upheaval, she felt the hot spurt of his seed.

  When at last she floated down from the outer reaches of bliss, she realized that her cheeks were wet. Edmund sprawled over her, crushing her into the bed. The scents of sex and satisfaction weighted the air.

  Fighting dizziness, she gulped in a shallow breath to ease her burning lungs. Dear God, she’d have to tell him to move soon, or end up suffocating. But how could she bear to push him away? She’d never felt so close to him, even when he’d slid inside her, or when he’d yielded to shuddering release. Through the lonely years, this closeness was what she’d longed for most of all. After that rapturous flight that split the heavens wide open, she couldn’t yet bring the connection to an end.

  His big, strong body felt loose and exhausted in her arms. He breathed in great gusts, and his skin was damp with clean male sweat. She couldn’t doubt that she’d satisfied him. As he’d satisfied her. When until tonight, she’d had no idea what satisfaction meant.

  A wry smile curved her lips. How absurd to discover the joys of the marriage bed eight years after speaking her vows.

  Felicity turned her head to kiss the cheek he pressed against hers. In this radiant aftermath, tenderness vied with sated desire. With a lazy caress, she ran her hand over his thick red hair, marveling at its silkiness. Her husband was such a fascinating mixture of the gentle and the strong.

  Although it meant she could finally snatch a full breath, she was disappointed when he shifted. “Hell, Flick, I must be squashing you flat.”

  “I like it,” she admitted softly.

  “Thank you.” He rose on his elbows and bent to kiss her with a piercing sweetness that melted her bones to syrup. “That was unforgettable.”

  She stared up into gray eyes, glowing in the candlelight. “Welcome home, Edmund.”

  He kissed her again with more of that soul-stirring care before he rolled to the side, separating their bodies. At the prospect of his departure, she couldn’t contain a sound of distress. From the day she’d agreed to marry him, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t ask for more than he was willing to give. But after what they’d just shared, everything had changed. She was about to break that particular promise.

  “What is it, Flick?” He leaned over her, brushing her tangled hair back from her forehead. “Did I hurt you? All these years, the thought of you has driven me mad. I wasn’t as considerate as I might have been, damn me for a careless brute.”

  She caught his hand and kissed it, feeling the hard, shiny skin of his burns under her lips. When had she and Edmund become so physically demonstrative with one another? On their honeymoon, they’d rarely ventured much past the marital act. Her fears had crippled her, inhibited her natural impulse toward showing affection.

  Was it possible that her husband, for all his worldly experience, had felt a similar diffidence? Difficult to imagine dashing Edmund Sherritt as shy, but looking back with the advantage of maturity, she wondered if that might explain their mutual awkwardness.

  “You’re not a careless brute. And I love what we did.” She blushed, which was ludicrous, given her recent passionate responses. “I hope we’ll soon do it again.”

  A smile curled his lips, and he kissed her. Who knew he was a man who liked to kiss? Certainly not the woman who had married him so many years ago.

  “It’s a safe wager that we will. I was in such a goddamned rush to have you, I missed a few things that require attention.”

  In this bed, he’d transported her to another world. She couldn’t imagine feeling more wonderful than she had on that wild journey through the stars. Yet now it seemed she had more to discover. How thrilling.

  “Oh?” Anticipation heated her blood. “Such as?”

  He cupped her breast and brushed his thumb across the peak with an idle caress. “Every inch of your body deserves a week of admiration.”

  Her nipple beaded into a tingling point, and that swirling restlessness in her belly stirred anew. How on earth could she be interested in love play, when she’d only just found rapture beyond her wildest dreams? “A mere week?”

  “On my first foray.” Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He wasn’t quick enough to hide a wince of discomfort.

  “Edmund, I forgot about your leg.” Felicity scrambled out of the bed and darted around to kneel in front of him.

  “To be frank, so did I,” he said roughly, rubbing the long scar.

  “We should have been more careful.” She brushed his hand aside to check if the wound had opened. When she saw no blood, she sighed with relief. “We could have done serious damage.”

  “Wanting you and not having you was more painful than anything the Frenchies could do to me.”

  Her unthinking dash from the bed proved that she had aches and pains of her own. She’d adored the headlong urgency of Edmund’s passion. Now a few twinges reminded her that she was unaccustomed to having her body stretched and pounded.

  When she studied Edmund, she didn’t mind. He looked tired, but happy. And younger than the man who had ridden in yesterday afternoon. Her hand tightened on his thigh above his wound. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “Leave you?” He frowned in puzzlement. “What rubbish is this? I’ve only just come home.”

  When she shook her head, her unbound hair slid against her newly sensitive skin. “Now.” The word was a thread of sound. “Don’t leave me now. I’ve wanted you for so long, I can’t bear to be apart from you tonight.”

  Comprehension lit his eyes, and he stroked her hair, stretching his long legs out on either side of her. “I’m not going anywhere. And ne
ither are you.”

  “Good.” Giddy with relief, she kissed his thigh, just below his stirring rod. A wicked thrill sizzled through her, gave her the nerve to place a kiss on the part of him that had offered her such superlative service. Her senses opened to a deep musky scent and the salty taste of his skin.

  “Hell’s bells,” he gasped and plunged his hands into her untidy mass of hair, tipping her face up. “Where on earth did you learn to do that?”

  Felicity flushed and regarded him uncertainly. “Didn’t you like it?”

  A strangled laugh escaped him. “I liked it beyond measure.”

  “It seemed a natural thing to do.”

  He bent down and this time, his kiss was urgent. “You, my wife, are a gift beyond price.”

  “When you kiss me like that, I can’t think.” Flustered, she pulled back and rose to her feet. With every movement, she felt the slickness between her thighs.

  Edmund relaxed against the pillows and watched her with drowsy pleasure. “Come back to bed.”

  She sent him a quick smile. “Not yet.”

  When Felicity picked up her nightdress and hauled it over her head, he groaned and rolled his eyes. “You tease me.”

  She wandered into the dressing room. “Only a little.”

  “Flick, you’d better plan to come back here,” he called with gratifying impatience.

  As she opened the door to the huge rosewood armoire in the corner, she smiled. How very nice it was to have a gorgeous man eager for one’s company. “In a moment.”

  She returned, burdened with a large mahogany box. His face alight with curiosity, Edmund pushed up against the bedhead. “What the devil is this?”

  Feeling very pleased with herself, she braced to extend the heavy box in his direction. “Happy Christmas, my dear husband.”

  He took it with a delighted smile. “I’d forgotten.”

  “So had I, even though I’ve just been to church.”

  He grinned and caught her hand for a quick kiss. “How clever of you to have a gift for me.”

  Felicity perched on the end of the bed, and folded her legs up under her nightgown. “It was luck as much as anything. I had no idea where you were this year. And I wasn’t ready to entrust all my hard work to the War Office with the hope that they could find you. I thought you might write for Christmas, and I’d know your location then.”

  He lifted the lid of the box, to reveal neatly wrapped packages resting on a bed of white linen. “New shirts,” he said with transparent pleasure. “Bless you. I always had the softest shirts in the regiment.”

  She’d sewn, washed and bleached each shirt with just that object. The way she had for the last seven years. “I hated to think of you over there with scratchy linen.”

  “All made by you?”

  “Yes.” Every stitch a silent declaration of love.

  “Thank you.” When he lifted one of the smaller packages, a piece of greenery fell from the wrapping. “Mistletoe?”

  “For Christmas.” This year, she’d placed a few mistletoe sprigs in with his present and made a wish for his safe return as she did it.

  He smiled. “For kisses.”

  “For luck.” Feeling very daring, she picked up a sprig and held it over his head as she stretched up to kiss him. Only when he drew her closer and the corner of the box bumped her hip did she recall what they’d been doing before pleasure distracted them.

  “Edmund…” she protested, as his hand slipped under the top of the nightdress.

  “Mmm?”

  Heat rippled through her when he squeezed her breast. “Your present?”

  “Mmm,” he said, nibbling his way down her neck and making every hair on her skin stand up.

  “Present…” She sounded less convincing by the second and was almost sorry when he pulled away.

  “Stop tempting me.” He kissed her with unmistakable purpose, then returned to his gifts. He unscrewed a silver container. “Bonbons.”

  “In one of your letters, you said you like peppermint.”

  “I do.” He offered her a sweet, before taking one for himself. “Fancy you remembering that.”

  Felicity remembered every word he’d ever said or written to her. His delight in the sweet made her smile, even as a burst of fresh mint flooded her mouth. The taste, however delicious, couldn’t compete with Edmund’s kisses.

  “Did you make these, too?”

  She nodded. “I made everything I could.”

  “I’ve married quite the housewife,” he said. “Did you always make everything? You never said.”

  She blushed. Again. “I know it’s not very countessish, but I wanted you to receive a Christmas present that came directly from me.”

  “Thank you. That’s what it felt like.” His eyes warmed, and he leaned in to give her a kiss sharp with peppermint. “Now what else is in here?”

  She sat back and enjoyed his childlike glee as he opened his gifts. The fruitcake. The Christmas pudding. More bonbons. A parcel of recent novels. Pens and writing paper, included purely out of self-interest. Several cakes of the soap she knew he liked. Tonight when she’d lain in his arms, the sandalwood scent had been hauntingly familiar. Handkerchiefs she’d sat up late finishing only last week, when she’d decided to hold onto the box until she had a confirmed address.

  He sat back, surrounded by bounty. “You put me to shame.”

  She smiled, elated with the success of her gifts. She’d never suspected this boyish side of his nature existed. What a night of revelations this had been.

  “I know these last years, you haven’t been in a position to buy me presents.” She dared to tease him. “Although next Christmas, I’ll expect you to start making up for it.”

  Amusement brightened his eyes to silver. “So you don’t want this year’s present?”

  Surprised, she stared at him. “This year’s present?”

  Edmund laughed with a light-heartedness she hadn’t heard since his return and shifted his gifts aside so he could stand up. Hardly limping at all, he crossed to his valise and was quick to locate what he sought.

  As he approached, he held his hands behind his back. “Close your eyes.”

  She did.

  “No peeking. Put out your hands.”

  She obeyed.

  “Closer together. Do you think I bought you an elephant?”

  “Edmund,” she protested, but she moved her hands together.

  He’d given her a horse as a wedding gift. A fine chestnut mare she rode every day. Avid curiosity gripped her. “What is it? A shawl from Spain? Some lace from the Low Countries?”

  “Was that what you wanted? If only I’d known.”

  Keeping her eyes shut, she reached forward into empty air. “You’re a beast.”

  “Undoubtedly.” His voice lowered, until it reverberated in her bones. “Happy Christmas, my lovely wife. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever known, and I hope it’s the first of many glorious Christmases to come.”

  Something in his tone made her open her eyes, despite his strictures not to look. For a lost moment, she stared into features so vivid with feeling that she wondered if she’d misjudged him all these years. Perhaps he did love her.

  “Edmund…” she whispered in a completely different tone. Then he placed a flat red velvet case in her hands, and that aching, intimate connection snapped.

  His expression was smug. “It’s not a shawl.”

  The case’s weight surprised her. “So I gather,” she said unsteadily. She’d seen enough of the Countess of Canforth’s jewels to guess what was inside.

  “Open it.” Watching with unwavering attention, he settled against the pillows again. The expectation in his eyes made her smile, even as she regretted the loss of that instant of silent communion. Her hands shook so badly that she couldn’t manage the box’s clasp.

  “Here.” Edmund took it from her. With a couple of flicks of his long fingers, he unfastened the lid and lifted it.

  Awed, Felicity surve
yed the sparkling contents, before she glanced up at her husband. “Goodness gracious.”

  He looked pleased. “Goodness gracious indeed. I bought them in Vienna a couple of months ago, and I’ve been carrying them around ever since. I always had a yen to see my beautiful wife in rubies and diamonds.”

  “But what rubies.” As she lifted the magnificent necklace from its bed of purple silk, her hands still trembled. Edmund had given her a complete parure. Tiara. Two bracelets. Brooch. Earrings. When she held the necklace up to the candlelight, the stones sparkled as if they were alive.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, and she caught a flash of uncertainty in his expression. Another of tonight’s miracles. She knew him well enough now to recognize his diffidence for what it was.

  “How could I not? They’re spectacular. I should say that you’ve been dreadfully extravagant, but I love them too much to object. Instead, I feel completely overwhelmed. And very grateful.”

  His laugh held a note of relief. “I’m so glad.”

  Yesterday she would have thanked him with words and a smile, knowing her response was inadequate to the lavish gift. But tonight, she’d put away her inhibitions. She dropped the necklace and launched herself forward, kissing him with unabashed enthusiasm. “Thank you so much. It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received.”

  Laughing with no hint of constraint, he tumbled her over and returned her kisses. By the time he raised his head, she stared dreamily up at him.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love them.” I love you.

  Warm even through the flannel, his hand curved over her breast. “My pleasure.”

  Felicity fiddled with a curling lock of hair over his ear. “Will you help me put them on?”

  Amusement flashed in his eyes. “My darling, you’re not dressed for the occasion. Surely you know it’s a faux pas, to wear rubies with flannel?”

  His darling? “It is?”

  “Better to wear rubies naked, than with a nightgown.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t look away from the brazen invitation in his expression. “In that case, you’d better show me how it’s done, my lord.”

  His smile took on a distinctly wolfish tinge. “It’s the least I can do, my lady.”