Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

  The hand she’d been resting against his chest curled into claws and her fingernails dug into the expensive fabric of his coat.

  Lifting his head, he rested his mouth against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Most importantly,” he whispered roughly, “you know the one thing I do not.”

  “What’s that?” she asked. Her voice breathless and heavy.

  “What happens next.”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring intently at her face. His eyes were hard and hot. His jaw was tense with need, his lips firm, and his breath subtly ragged.

  “But you’ve known what would happen all along, Mr. Maxwell.”

  “I’ve hoped.”

  She smiled and combed her fingers through the hair at his nape. “Hmm. Now, you play at humility,” she murmured thoughtfully.

  He smiled but the curve of his mouth did nothing to soften the intensity in his expression. “Only an idiot would be anything but humble in the presence of the lady dragon.”

  The sound she made was a warm purr. “And you are no idiot.”

  His hands shifted to grasp her waist. She could feel the tension of his fingers pressing into the stiff material of her bodice, as if he wished to tear it away from her body to reach the softness encased within.

  She wanted to tear the damn thing off, just to feel the smooth glide of his bare hands on her skin. Instead, she gave a subtle undulation of her body. A quiet urging, a silent permission for him to take a bit more.

  Eyes blazing, he smoothed his hands up along her sides until his thumbs brushed across the peaks of her breasts with the perfect amount of pressure before he reached around her. One hand slid down to press flat against the lowest curve of her spine, right where her buttocks flared beneath soft silk. His other hand followed her spine up to wrap around her nape. Holding her like that, he brushed a light kiss across her parted lips.

  “I’m clever enough to know my first mistake with you would also be my last.”

  “You think me so harsh?” she asked in a ragged whisper as his lips trailed to her jaw, then her temple, then the hollow below her ear.

  “Not harsh, madam. You are simply too magnificent for most mortal men.”

  She gave a husky laugh. The man knew how to compliment a woman.

  His hand tightened on the back of her neck, urging her to drop her head, exposing her throat. She expected him to kiss her there. Instead, he held her like that for a moment. Just long enough for vulnerability to spark deep in her heart. But as she met his dynamic gaze, swirling with desire and knowledge, she instinctively knew she was safe in his hold.

  “But I am not most men.”

  She narrowed her focus on his mouth, admiring its firm lines and the softness that was present only in the fuller bottom lip. She ached for that mouth and its unexpected smiles and intriguing words. She trembled inside with the desire to feel it again on her lips and imagined the many other ways he might use it.

  Bringing her gaze back to his, she murmured in agreement, “No. You are not.”

  Chapter 9

  When she stepped from his arms, Erik experienced a moment of panic but loosened his hold anyway, allowing his hands to glide over her curves in a sensual caress that made her eyes spark beautifully and her lips curve with promise.

  Then she took his hand in hers and turned to lead him across the room. Without a word, she continued from the library and down the hall toward the rear of the house, away from the main stairs that that would have taken them back down to the party. Next, they ascended a narrow, twisting staircase to the top floor of the building and another hallway with red carpeting and brocade-covered walls that contained several closed doors.

  Despite the muffled sounds of revelry that could be heard from below and the suspicion that there were others enjoying the privacy and quiet behind each of the closed doors they passed, he felt as though it were just the two of them. In the world that surrounded them but not of it. He always seemed to feel like that when he was with her.

  At the end of the hall was a door, closed and locked.

  Sending him a seductive glance over her shoulder that had his stomach tightening and his cock thickening in a rush, she withdrew a single key on a silken black cord from a concealed pocket in her gown.

  The room beyond was a luxurious sitting room done in more of the lady’s signature scarlet but accented with gold rather than black. Gold threads in the embroidered settee, gold in the flames rolling gently in the hearth, gold brocade drapes covering the windows, and a large gold filigreed mirror on the wall between.

  The room was gilded fire.

  And as Pendragon led the way forward, he acknowledged how perfect a setting it was for her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her in the stunning gown, her hips swaying confidently beneath liquid flowing silk. Closing the door behind him, he leaned back against it, watching her. Admiring everything about her as she stopped in front of the oversized mirror hanging almost directly across the room from him.

  Green eyes snared his in the reflection as she lifted her hands to tuck a stray curl back up into her coiffure. Her smile was full of feminine mystique and sensual power as she allowed her fingertips to trail slowly down along her slim neck, across her collarbone, and lower, to the soft upper swells of her breasts.

  As he watched from behind her, the mirrored reflection making him feel farther away than he was in truth, she slid her index finger along the top of her bodice, where a thin edge of black lace peeked from under the red silk.

  Lust swirled heavily in his body, tensing his muscles, clenching a fist around his throat while blood thundered to his cock.

  The woman could put him to his knees if she tried. Part of him wished she would. He would readily offer every pleasure to her, prostrate himself at her feet for the privilege of a single taste.

  But he understood that wasn’t what she wanted. Nor was it what she needed. She’d no doubt had countless men bowing to her beauty and her pleasure, tossing themselves at the mercy of her desires.

  Their intense mutual attraction had grown into something far more complex than sexual power dynamics and pleasures of the flesh alone. He’d long accepted the connection between them. The inevitability of their joining and the undeniable enjoyment that would be found when they finally came together. As two people who might appear to be rivals on the outside but were well-matched in all the ways that mattered. Their pasts had been charted through decades of experiences and ambitions and loneliness to bring them both to this night. To each other.

  Her fingers moved nimbly along the tiny hidden fasteners running down the front of her gown. With each little pop of the hook releasing from eyelet, the stiff bodice began to gape.

  And Erik’s mouth began to water.

  Lush, pale pink flesh. Soft and full. She wore nothing beneath the gown and every bit she exposed to him was more tantalizing than the last. As his gaze hungrily devoured the sensual feast she revealed so cleverly and torturously, he felt as though he were being offered something no man could ever prove worthy of receiving.

  Pulling the corseted bodice free of her body, she dropped the thing to the floor.

  The smooth skin of her torso gleamed like marble in the dusky golden firelight. Her breasts were wonderfully full, the tips crested with dark rose-colored nipples. Her waist was narrow but soft in a way he wanted to rub his face against.

  Still facing the mirror and now bared from waist up, she reached behind her back to where a tied ribbon secured the skirts around her narrow waist. The position thrust her breasts higher, making them jiggle delightfully.

  Reluctantly lifting his gaze from her creamy bosom, he noted the small tilt of a satisfied smile curling her mouth. The consummate seductress. Her sexual assurance was intoxicating, leaving him incapable of doing anything but staring with clenched teeth.

  Understanding his predicament entirely, she gave a soft chuckle before pulling the ribbon of her skirts, freeing the red silk to fall in a billowy scarlet cloud to the floor.


  A powerful jolt of need shot through him. But he forced himself to remain unmoving.

  Clad only in an underskirt of transparent black lace that did next to nothing to conceal the lush flare of her hips or the long lines of her shapely legs, she turned to face him. The shadow of pale gold curls at the juncture of her thighs nearly did him in.

  With herculean effort, he swallowed the deep groan of hunger pushing up from his chest and managed to utter three true words. “You slay me.”

  A blonde brow arced. “Isn’t that what dragons do? Surely, you didn’t expect me to spare you my flames.”

  “I’d willingly drown in your fire. But I’d prefer we dance in the flames together.”

  Sparks lit her gaze as she started toward him. Slowly but with undeniable purpose. Her steps languid. The movement of her body sultry. Sensual confidence flowed through her form, holding her shoulders back as her hips swayed.

  Stopping halfway across the room, she lowered her chin and smiled with sinful promise as she beckoned him with a curl of her finger.

  Pushing off from the door, he reached her in long, swift strides. He saw her ribs expand and her full breasts lift with a swift inhale that caught and held. Her kohl-rimmed eyes were narrowed and dark, watching him. Her reddened lips slightly parted to show the edge of white teeth.

  Though his hands burned with the desire to smooth over her pale skin, to cover her breasts and pinch their peaks, he instead reached up to gently caress one of the roses in her hair.

  Petals like the richest velvet. A red so dark it was nearly black. And as he carefully withdrew the first bloom from her golden tresses, he discovered the stem still held its thorns.

  He took care releasing her twisted and curled coiffure, making sure not to tug too hard on the pins or tangle the blooms in his attempt to free them. Within minutes, her hair fell in long gilded waves to her hips, framing her stunning beauty in pale gold light.

  His chest tightened as the fierce fire of possession engulfed him. “Callista.”

  Her given name slipped from his lips on a ragged whisper before he could hold it back. Her eyes flashed, but she said nothing.

  She was a creature beyond fantasy. An ancient and sensual goddess. A woman of myth and magic. And tonight she was his.

  Still holding the last rose he’d slipped from her hair—a full-blown bloom with wicked thorns and a scent of sensual promise so intoxicating it made his head spin—Erik lifted the flower to brush the petals softly across her lips. Though he felt her gaze intent upon his face, he couldn’t keep from watching the path of the rose as he trailed it down the side of her neck, along her collarbone, then down between the heavy globes of her breasts to her navel. Circling the rose over her low belly, he watched her muscles tense with a satisfied smile.

  Drawing the rose up again, he followed the undercurve of one breast. Her nipples tightened and puckered beneath his gaze, anticipating the velvet touch of the rose.

  Tension rode gently across her brow as breath passed swiftly between her lips and her green eyes flashed.

  Had the bewitching seductress finally fallen under his spell?

  Holding her gaze, he circled the peak of first one breast, then the other. Her lashes fluttered as she spoke in a husky whisper. “Beware how much you tease. I’ve some skill in sensual torment, as well.”

  “I fucking hope so,” he replied in a gravelly confession, drawing a soft chuckle from her throat.

  He took that moment to lower his head and take one breast fully in his mouth, drawing the budded peak deep.

  Her gasp was loud and raw as her hands lifted to grasp his head and her spine arched.

  Slipping one arm around her waist, he held her secure to accept the luscious roll of his tongue and the sharp edge of his teeth. Her body fit perfectly within the concave curve of his. Their legs intertwined, her low belly was soft against his aching erection, and her breasts lifted to his mouth. When he turned his head to capture the other breast for equal attention, her fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the scalp while holding him to her.

  She knew her pleasure and how to claim it.

  But he wanted to give her more. More than she’d ever experienced. More than she knew was possible. He was offering all that he was to this woman tonight. Every breath and thunderous beat of his heart.

  Grabbing her buttocks in his hands, he raised his head and lifted her against him. Her legs parted to wrap around his hips.

  “Bed?” The one word was a question and a demand.

  “Through the door behind you,” she gasped before rolling her hips along his length.

  His grip on her lush rear tightened as he turned in place. If he didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it to a bed, and he so wanted to have her spread out on the softness of a mattress as he attended to her pleasure.

  The room beyond was dark compared to the outer room, but after only a moment, his eyes began to adjust to the dim, seductive candlelight.

  The bedroom was small, and if the sitting room had been gilded fire, this room was all secret darkness and wicked night. The walls were black and silver brocade and thick black carpeting covered the floor. The four-poster bed was made of wood that gleamed a cherry red in the candlelight and was dressed in velvets the color of a midnight sky. But in the center of the room was a straight chaise bench, long and wide, covered in sleek red leather that no doubt felt like butter to touch.

  The chaise gave him ideas. Sinfully delicious ideas.

  Later.

  He took her first to the bed, but he didn’t lay her down. Instead, he lowered her feet to the floor and pressed her back to the bedpost behind her. Their gazes locked and held, but neither of them spoke. He could feel her expectation, her trust—if only in this—as she appeared content in the moment to await his direction.

  Grasping her wrists in his hands, he lifted them up over her head until she wrapped her elegant fingers around the smooth column of the bedpost. Then he slid her hands higher. Higher. Until she was stretched out, reaching far above her head, elongating her torso, and lifting her plump breasts.

  Erik stepped back to admire the picture she made. Skin pale in the darkness, the swirl of black lace shielding her lower body, her gaze direct and challenging, her lips red and glistening.

  “Gorgeous.”

  His low murmured word sounded like a benediction in the dark silence.

  Utterly fitting as he lowered to his knees before her. She still wore her black heeled slippers. He left them in place as he smoothed his hands up the outsides of her legs, reaching beneath the fall of lace. Taking a deep breath, he drew in the rich, honied scent of her as he explored the silk of her bare skin, the elegant curves of her calves, the softness of her thighs. Shoving the transparent skirts up and up as he went.

  And when she boldly tilted her hips toward him, heat blasted through him.

  Yes. He would give her what she demanded.

  His hands reached the swell of her buttocks and he wrapped them firmly around the backs of her thighs, his fingertips tingling with the barest touch of heat from her core. With his thumbs, he held the black lace above her exposed mound. Gold curls glistened, shielding paradise.

  Her thigh muscles tightened and Erik glanced up the length of her lush body. Her head was thrown back, but her eyes—heavy-lidded and bright—gazed down at him.

  “More teasing?” she asked. Her tone was sultry and thick. Needful.

  He smiled. “Not teasing. Savoring. I’ve been wanting to taste you, claim you, pleasure you with my mouth for an eternity. Now that I’ve got you where I want you, do not expect me to rush the experience.”

  She made a short sound as her hips undulated in his hands. “Your patience is unbelievably frustrating.”

  Erik chuckled thickly and turned his head to press a kiss to her inner thigh. “You’ll be grateful for it by the end of the night.”

  “But it’s already nearly dawn. The night is almost over.”

  “Not here. Not in our world,” he murmured as he pr
essed another kiss to her trembling thigh, slightly higher. “The night has just begun.”

  The sound she made was an otherworldly growl. “If you don’t put your tongue to me right n—”

  Her voice caught harshly in her throat before sliding into a moan as Erik covered her clitoris with his open mouth in a hot, suckling kiss. Her hips gave an involuntary jerk but he lifted one of her legs to rest over his shoulder, opening her body for the full attention of his mouth.

  Holy hell. The first long glide of his tongue along her honied cleft made his head spin with the musky taste of her arousal. Liquid gold. Fire and sin.

  With one hand still gripping her thigh, he brought his other hand between them to gently part her folds, exposing her further to his gaze and the full thrust of his tongue. He wanted to get as deeply inside her as he could go while burying his nose in her soft, sweet-scented curls. When she rocked against him, he softened his tongue and lapped along the full length of her swollen folds before circling her clitoris with skillful, urging intent. He suckled the bud before nipping at her sensitive inner lips then thrust again into her honied center.

  The taste of her pleasure wet his lips and soon dripped down his chin.

  He couldn’t get enough. His body responded to every little sound she made, every tilt and twist of her pelvis, ever delicate flutter and pulse of her flesh. He’d become hard as stone from head to toe, but still he couldn’t stop attending to her. Not until she offered that first precious orgasm to his mouth.

  And when she finally did, it was glorious.

  Her thighs tightened around his head, locking him in place. One of her hands fell to the back of his head and her body tensed with the rushing climax that claimed her.

  Erik didn’t stop thrusting and licking and sucking even as her hips bucked wildly and her fingernails dug into his scalp.

  It was everything he wanted. Complete abandon. Violent pleasure. Passionate surrender.