Page 24 of Bedded Under The Christmastide Moon

Mellie shrugged from the bodice of her gown, allowing it to pool at her waist, her thin shift barely hiding her hardened nipples.

His hand shook with desire when his finger grazed the tight bud, and he pushed the shoulders of her chemise down to follow the same path her bodice had taken.

Breathing deeply, Mellie’s breasts rose and fell, her perfect form exposed to his ravenous stare.

He wanted to touch her, taste her, claim her.

When his stare returned to hers, Brigham had no doubt that she sought to do the same with him.

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Mellie had waited years for this moment. No, she’d waited a lifetime for Brigham to look at her as he was now. She wanted it to last decades; however, she also wanted his hands upon her bared breasts, his lips on her neck, and his manhood at her core.

Her need was her undoing.

Even without Brigham’s declarations of love, she would have given him the gift of her body, her soul, her heart. No matter the outcome, Mellie wanted their bodies joined this night, and she would not wait another moment.

Her body vibrated with need as her back arched, presenting her full, tight breasts for his touch; the magnificent necklace nestled between her mounds.

She recognized the instant his hesitation fled, and a flutter moved from her stomach to her throat as he reached forward and laid her back on the cloak. There were no words left within her, no need to speak…only act. Satiate the lust coursing through her.

Yet, he did not follow her, nor did Brigham lay beside her. He pushed to his feet and stood, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly removed his jacket, untied his cravat, and began undoing the buttons of his white linen shirt until he ended at the flap of his trousers.

Mellie was helpless to stop herself as she licked at her lips, causing a low growl to escape from Brigham.

He tossed his glasses on the growing pile of clothing close to his feet, his shirt quickly following.

His Hessians were next, and then…his trousers.

She sucked in a deep breath, but it caught in her throat when she realized Brigham wore nothing under his trousers. His erection jutted out thickly and pulsed in the moonlight from above, his desire for her evident.

He was breathtaking as he continued to stand over her, his stare finally traveling down her body—giving her ample time to do the same with his. The sight of him did not assuage the need within her, however; it only amplified her arousal. Her fingers clawed at the cloak to keep from reaching for him.

Certainly, she wanted him stretched out beside her, on top of her, his lips against hers. But she was hesitant to end this speck in time. She’d never seen him thusly and she wanted to look her fill. Wanted to imprint on her memory the way he looked in the moonlight, a look of unabashed desire and need evident on his face. And love. Yes, there was love.

This was the moment in their lives every one to follow would be based on.

The longing in his eyes, the set of his broad shoulders, the intense line of his jaw.

Never again would she need fear what course her life would take, for Brigham would be ever at her side.

No lingering distress at being alone in the world could bring her to panic.

Brigham’s confession began to take root. He was not leaving Hockcliffe—not this night, not on the morrow, or any day that followed…unless Mellie was with him.

“My dearest Lady Whitmore, I do hope—“ He paused, his eyes dipping to take in her bare breasts. Mellie parted her thighs, primed for all that would come next. Feeling beautiful under his stare. “—you are prepared to be bedded under the Christmastide moon.”

“It is the gift I’ve longed for since our wedding day,” she purred, holding her arms wide.

He came to her then, in all of his naked glory, his scorching lips leaving a trail of raw, heated desire in their wake as he pushed her gown down over her hips and followed the path with his lips. When he paused, his lips pursed, Mellie knew a brief second of panic.

But instead of moving away, he lifted her hips slightly and reached beneath her to untie the holds for her underskirts, pushing them down her thighs with the rest of her underthings.

The frosty night breeze that swept over her should have chilled her to the bone and numbed her, yet the sensation of his eyes upon her thrilled her senses to a new heightened awareness and heat bloomed anew at her core. A shudder ran down her spine at the thought of his tongue following the same path that his hands currently took. As if Brigham read her mind, he applied his lips to her naval and placed delicate kisses there.

His strong hands caressed the tight muscles of her thighs as he leaned over her, and her body liquefied under his ministrations. One hand massaged the weighty globe of a breast, coaxing a sigh from her lips, as the other trailed feather-light touches over her mound. Mellie felt heat pool at her core as Brigham stroked and played, kissed and nipped until she wanted to beg.

Mellie was gloriously exposed. She should be embarrassed, panicked, have an intense desire to cover her flesh; instead, she delighted in the sensations coursing through her. When he latched on to the sensitive area below her breast, her hands released their hold on the cloak and ran through his hair, locking tightly in his short curls and pulling him back to her lips.