She knew he could see her breasts as if they were naked and the thrill made them quiver and begin to harden. Her nipples thrust out toward him like tiny wanton spikes, then he lifted his gaze to hers so they could share the knowledge that even his slightest glance could bring her shuddering pleasure. He was all hard male dominance, she, soft willing woman.
This was the way it was, then, between a man and a woman. The male gained strength and power, the female grew weak with love. Domination and submission by touch alone. Every sense was beginning to heighten. The harder and stronger he grew, the softer and weaker she became. She was totally aware that it was his strength that held her upright. If he withdrew it, she would fall, tumbling to lie supine beneath him. Master and slave.
The kiss was a long time in coming. It was replete with its own foreplay. He began the kiss with his eyes, allowing his smoldering glance to fix upon her mouth, allowing her to see the desire, the intent, the hunger, and the raw need he felt to taste her, possess her devour her. To draw out the anticipation further, he traced her top lip with a fingertip, then caressed the ripe flesh of her full bottom lip, then going further to pinch it between thumb and forefinger like a succulent fruit. Only then did his head dip and he sucked the ripeness into his mouth and softly bit upon it. Then he licked and sucked and tasted the dew-drenched berry until it was love swollen.
Antonia’s black-fringed lashes swept to her cheeks and she moaned with her first sexual stirring. And then he kissed her. His lips were firm, slanting across her mouth, caressing, molding, coaxing, generously giving and selfishly taking all at the same time. They lured her lips to imitate his play. With a helpless little murmur of pleasure her arms slipped up his wide back, her hands playing over his rippling muscles as her lips opened softly to a lover’s demands.
With the tip of his tongue he teased and played, learning the texture and taste of the honey-drenched alcove. Her own tongue fluttered, then tentatively toyed with his in a titillating game that taught her the beginning of boldness. He allowed her the freedom to explore his mouth before he asserted total male dominance and mastered her.
To Savage she was exquisitely tempting. It was palpably obvious she was both over-young and over-innocent, and yet she was totally unselfconscious with him, reacting to his lovemaking with a lovely, natural sensuality. He had a vague sensation of dèjà-vu, as if tonight was the culmination of a long wooing they had both anticipated for— what? months, years, a lifetime?
He crushed down an urge to ravish her. It was a wild need to mark her indelibly ashis.He eased her backwards to the bed before he withdrew his arms. Then with deliberate fingers he undid the tiny buttons at her waist. “I think we should dispense with this voluminous skirt, delicious though it is. I’ll pour us some champagne.”
She stepped from the yards of golden tulle just as Adam turned with a glass in each hand.
A little spilled over the rims. “Sweet Jesu!” he growled.
Antonia’s face flamed. “Oh, I know these drawers are outrageous.”
He shook his head. “Nay, sweetheart, I’ve seen diaphanous underclothes before. It’s your legs!”
“My legs?” she whispered.
“Your legs are spectacular.” His gaze licked over her delicate ankles, long slim calves, and long silken thighs that seemed to go on forever. “I’ve never seen such deliciously long legs on a female in my life.” He swiftly closed the distance between them, set down the champagne glasses, and swept her into the air. “They were made for wrapping about a man,” he said huskily.
If that is what he desired, it was her supreme pleasure to grant his wish. She wrapped her long legs about his waist, crossed her ankles behind his back, and squeezed him. As he groaned with sheer pleasure, her arms went about his neck and she kissed him, as moments before he had kissed her. The thought of his hard mouth beneath hers, with its wicked scar, sent shivers of delight shooting through her. She felt as if her very bones might melt and gripped him tightly with her long, silken thighs.
Jesu, why hadn’t he had the presence of mind to remove his clothes? Supporting her lovely round bottom cheeks with his palms, he walked slowly to the bed, swept off the covers, and lowered her onto the black satin sheets.
Her golden hair, gold crown bodice, and sheer golden pantelets against the black satin were an arousing contrast. “You look absolutely decadent,chèrie”he murmured.
She looked up at him, watching the color of his eyes darken with desire. “You make me feel absolutely decadent.”
She watched intently as his calloused hands removed his high black stock and then his shirt. She had seen him naked to the waist when they’d shared a chamber at Edenwood, but now she was free to allow her eyes to take in the full splendor of his musculature covered by the crisp mat of curly black hair. She felt a hunger to see more of him. Then her hunger turned to greed. Not only did she long toseemore of him, she wanted totouchhim, tosmellhim, totastehim, todevourhim.
Her green gaze followed his fingers to his belt, then widened as he stripped off his pants. Adam Savage’s loins bore knife scars. The one on the right side of his belly looked as if he’d had his guts ripped out. But it was not the scars that made her wildly curious. It was his male center upon which she was riveted. Here at last was the mysterious male sex. His phallus jutted proud and thick from a black bramble-bush of hair, while beneath his shaft nestled two large oval spheres. His thighs looked as solid as young oak trees, yet his hips were amazingly narrow.
Adam’s heart leapt when she hardly glanced at his scars, but centered all her female curiosity upon his jutting masculinity. She gazed at it so long in fascination, turning her head on a different angle the better to view it, that amusement filled his eyes. He spread his arms wide as if he were on display, then said, “Here I come, ready or not.”
“I’m ready, Adam,” she said quite seriously.
With a great whoop of laughter he dived upon the bed and scooped her beneath him. He straddled her with his knees and laughed down into her butterfly eyes.
“Your golden hair is lovely against the black satin, but I would wager a thousand guineas your natural black tresses are far more beautiful.”
Her lovely green eyes showed surprise. “How do you know I’m a brunette?”
He shook his head at her sheer artlessness. “Because you have black silk ringlets between your legs.”
“Oh!” she gasped, pink tinging her cheeks, then she threw back her head and let her laughter roll out over both of them. “How ridiculous I must seem to you.”
“You are an alluring, irresistible golden treasure.”
“Mmm, plunder me,” she begged.
“What a scandalous waste that would be. I shall savor you.”
She watched his deft fingers unfasten her bodice, then she watched his face as he freed her breasts. She watched him lick his lips as they suddenly went dry, and she longed for him to bring the tip of his tongue down to her own mouth again.