Page 71 of The Wedding Challenge

He moved over her, and she opened her legs to receive him. He slid his hands beneath her hips, tilting her up, and she felt the tip of him probing at the tender intimate flesh. She arched up gladly to meet him, and he slid into her slowly, carefully, his body taut with the strain of holding back.

She had heard that there was always pain the first time, but she felt none, only a wonderful fulfillment as the full length of him slid inside her, stretching and filling her. Callie let out a low cry of pleasure, calling his name, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, as he began to thrust in and out. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, moving in time with his long, sure strokes.

His breath was harsh and ragged in her ear, and his searing heat enveloped her. Callie felt herself surrounded by him, immersed in him, and she reveled in the sensation. Tension was building deep in her abdomen, growing with each movement he made, knotting and re-knotting ever tighter, until at last it exploded in a glorious burst of pleasure so intense that she cried out.

Brom shuddered and groaned, pumping into her wildly as he hurtled to his own peak with her, and together they collapsed, spent and exhausted and utterly replete. Brom murmured her name as he rolled from her, his arms still wrapped around her; then he reached out with one arm and grabbed the coverlet, pulling it over and around them like a cocoon. And together they drifted into sleep.

CALLIE CAME SLOWLY AWAKE, aware first that it was very hot and, secondly, that something very heavy was weighing her down. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself gazing at a large expanse of firm flesh, with hair prickling her nose. She blinked, and in another moment she was fully awake. The heat came from Brom’s large body, which she lay against, her cheek on his chest. And the heavy weight was his arm thrown across her.

Memories of the night before came flooding back in on her, and she smiled to herself. A woman of greater virtue, she thought, would doubtless have been embarrassed, even ashamed. She, however, was bursting with happiness; there was no room in her for any other feeling.

Despite the heat, she lay there for a moment longer, luxuriating in the new feeling of her body, alive with the imprint of last night’s pleasures and pleasantly sore.

Finally she eased out of bed, letting the coverlet fall back over Brom’s body. She glanced about the room ruefully. Their clothes were scattered all over. Remembering the few faint ripping sounds as they undressed, she suspected that her garments might not be in wearable condition anymore. It was a good thing that she had brought several additional frocks in her bag.

The fire had died to ashes, but she scarcely noticed the cold as she made her way over to the window. The room was still dim, but the light that came in through the slit in the draperies made her think that it was already long past sunrise. She pulled aside a corner of the thick drape and looked out. It was indeed morning; the landscape was washed with sunshine. She let the curtain fall and turned back to the room.

Her dress lay in a heap in front of a chair; her petticoats were tossed over the foot of the bed; her boots were several feet apart. And her chemise was a crumpled little ball near the door. She made her way around the room, picking up her clothes.

As she turned back toward the bed, she saw Bromwell, braced on one elbow, watching her. She gasped, dropping the garments in her surprise.

He smiled. “Ah, now that is much better. Those clothes were hiding far too much.”

“What are you doing?” she scolded. “You scared me!”

“Watching you,” he replied.

“Why did you not speak? I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I know. That made it all the more enjoyable,” he replied, grinning unrepentantly.

She bent down to retrieve her clothes, holding them in front of her, her cheeks high with color.

“Nay. Do not hide yourself,” he said. “I like to look at you.”

Callie smiled a little, feeling strangely shy and yet excited, too, the now-familiar warmth stealing through her loins. “’Tis scarcely fair, as you are modestly covered.”

That was not quite true, as the cover had slid down to his waist, and she could see the full expanse of his chest and arms, which, she would be the first to admit, was a very nice sight.

Brom grinned and reached down to flip the covers aside. “There. You may look as much as I.”

Her cheeks flushed as her eyes of their own volition ran down his body, taking in the tanned, firm flesh, the smooth curve of muscle, as well as the unmistakable sign that he was already aroused.

“Oh!” she said, her eyes widening and her blush deepening. But she found that the sight of his thickening staff deepened the heat that was already alive in her.

“Yes,” he admitted, grinning. “I am a slave to you.”

“A slave to your own base desires, I should say,” she told him saucily, but she dropped the garments and strolled over to the bed, her faint embarrassment overridden by the tingle of pleasure that went through her as his eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, roamed her body.

“Only where you are concerned,” he assured her, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her the last few inches to the bed.

He turned to sit on the edge of the mattress, bracing his heels, and put his hands on her hips, pulling her up against him. Callie smiled into his eyes and put her hands on his shoulders, moving them slowly down and back up, then lower over his chest. She could feel his arousal pushing against her abdomen, and it made her smile wickedly.

“You enjoy that, don’t you?” he growled, nuzzling into her neck. “The thought of making me suffer.”

“No,” she disputed, trailing her fingernails lightly down his chest. “’Tis the thought of ending your suffering that makes me smile.”

He laughed, his breath hot on her neck, and nipped lightly at the taut cord. “That, my lady, you are welcome to do.”