Page 31 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

She held his gaze as her hand continued on its journey, straying to the flat disc of one dark nipple and lingering there. His breath hitched and she smiled. He did too, with a soft huff of amusement.

“You enjoy torturing me, wife.”

“Mmmm,” she replied, dropping her gaze to that dark trail of hair as her fingers moved through it. “I do, but I can stop if you prefer?”

“No,” he said breathlessly. “No, please… please don’t stop.”

She trailed a finger down the hard length of his arousal, intrigued by the silk and the heat and the strength of him, and by the pained sound that tore from his lips as she grew bold and curved her hand about him.

“Montre moi,” she said, unable to take her gaze from the place her hand wrapped about him.

“Love,” he said. “I can barely understand English right now, don’t test me.”

She laughed, delighted by him, rewarding him by leaning down and pressing her mouth to his.

“Show me,” she whispered against his lips. “Show me how to please you.”

“Take this off first,” he demanded, tugging at her nightgown. “It would please me to see my wife in all her perfection.”

Odette sat up on her knees and did as he asked, pulling the nightgown over her head and revelling in the rapt expression on her husband’s face. She had expected to feel shy, awkward and foolish, but Chance made her feel none of those things.

“How lovely you are,” he said reverently, pulling her back down to him. They lay side-by-side, staring at each other. “I’m so happy I married you, Odette. I’ll try to be a good husband to you, I promise.”

“Oui,” she said, nodding. “I know that you will.”

He kissed her then, a kiss that made the fire he’d already lit blaze hotter, but she pulled back, wanting to know, wanting everything.

“You said you would show me how to please you,” she reminded him.

“Everything about you pleases me,” he said, kissing a path down her neck. “And I shall show you, with the greatest of pleasure, but not now. Now I want to please you, I want to make you my wife, and I fear things may proceed too quickly if I let you loose upon my person.”

She frowned at him, a little puzzled, but he smiled and caressed her cheek.

“Trust me?”

At that, she let out a breath and nodded. “Always.”

He carried on kissing her neck, her shoulders and she held her breath as he moved lower, shivering as he traced the valley between her breasts with his tongue. Her anticipation mounted as his mouth moved, lips brushing the soft curve of her breasts, and then he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled, and her mind whited out.

It took a moment before she realised she was clutching at his hair, writhing beneath him, exclaiming in French, in English, and in a language she had never realised she knew, but which seemed composed of soft gasps, little cries, and deep, decadent moans of pleasure. Such wickedness! Surely she was speaking in tongues, not that she cared a whit as he moved lower and applied his diabolical talents to the delicate place between her thighs. The shock of it might have made her swoon if she had not been so eager for him to do so. Though Lady Blackdown had not mentioned such attentions during her little talk—and thank the good lord for that, for she’d never have been able to look the woman in the eyes again—Odette’s body did not seem to be in any way disturbed by this turn of events. Indeed, the way that secret place throbbed and clamoured was a fair indication that this was not only normal but desperately required. So she gave herself over to it, trusting in him, and in herself, to know what came next.

He knew. Of course he did. He settled between her legs and smiled as she protested at her pleasure being halted. It began again, though, with the silken slide of his body against her, and once again the sparks flew, hotter and fiercer than before.

“Chance,” she said, clutching at his shoulders.

“Let me in now, love,” he said, and she became aware of an insistent pressure, of the blunt head pressing inside.

This, then, was what she had been told to expect. She took a deep breath, calming her breathing, attempting to relax, and suddenly—

“Odette?”

She stared up at him, eyes wide. It had not hurt, at least nothing more than a little pinching sensation, but now…. It was an odd feeling, so strange, so full, so….

“Odette?” Chance’s voice was anxious, his body quivering with tension above her. “Love?”

“Oui, I’m fine, it’s all right… don’t stop.”

He let out a ragged breath, his relief so obvious that she giggled. His blue eyes met hers, amusement and happiness shining there.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Non. Ah, non, mon beau, never that. It is only that you are so wonderful. You take such care of me.”

“I always will,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her, and moving inside her, and his hands were caressing her and… Oh.

The intimacy of it, the rightness of being here with this man, her husband, was astonishing. Tears pricked at her eyes as the perfection of it overwhelmed her, so much so that she was almost afraid it would be spoiled somehow, but she trusted in him to guide her, and followed where he led.

Even so, it was a shock, albeit a delicious one, as the pleasure gathered inside her, an urgent, frantic sensation building up and up until she hardly knew what to do with herself. It was at once too much and not enough, and she almost shouted at him to help her before she went mad, but then she was flying apart. Something bright and lovely exploded inside her, shattering into a million pieces. She cried out and her body jerked and shuddered, out of control as she was fragmented and thrown into the heavens. The strangest thing, though, was that as she came back to herself, she was no longer an odd collection of pieces, there was nothing broken or missing, only rearranged… complete for the first time in her life.

She held him as the pleasure took him too, sliding her palms over passion-dampened skin and knowing she would never forget the sound of his release, the way he called her name, the way he told her he loved her.

As his breathing steadied, he stared down at her. Odette met his gaze. She put her hand to his cheek, knowing full well her heart was in her eyes.

“J’taime, Chance. I love you too.”