Her Christmas Pleasure (The Merry Widows 2) - Page 23

“I don’t break my promises.” Dipping his head, he kissed his way along her elegant neck, licking and nipping at her soft skin. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I can’t wait.” She wound her arms around him, settling her hands on his buttocks and giving him a firm squeeze. “I love you, Damien.”

Would he ever grow tired of hearing those words? He doubted it. “I love you too.”

Celia rolled over on her side, trying to catch her breath. Damien slid close behind her and wrapped his arm around her middle, a large hand cupping her breast in a possessive manner. His thumb skittered across her peaked nipple, and she shivered. He kissed the side of her neck, his mouth damp and hot. She felt the slight jump of his burgeoning erection when he pressed his lower body against her. She sighed loudly.

He’d already made love to her twice. He appeared ready for round three, but she was desperate for a moment’s rest.

The man, quite frankly, wore her out.

“I wanted to make an honorable woman out of you,” he murmured against her neck. “Earlier I thought I should marry you first before I tumbled you back into my bed.”

“You dishonored me last night, so it was too late.” She giggled when he licked at her ear. It tickled, and he knew it. “Evidently you’re ready to dishonor me once more.”

“How can you tell?” He nudged his lower body against her again, the thick length of his erection rubbing against her bottom.

“You’re insatiable.” Her legs spread the slightest bit, allowing him the advantage.

“Years of pent-up emotion and want.” His other hand gripped her waist. He slid inside her welcoming body, filling her completely. She whimpered when he withdrew and surged back in, taking him even deeper. “God, I love the way you feel.”

She tipped her head back, closed her eyes as he continued to move inside her. He was showing her so many ways a couple could make love. Her previous experience had been rather limited, though she couldn’t fault Lawrence. But he hadn’t been adventurous, at least in the bedchamber.

She was thankful her Damien was incredibly adventurous.

Celia moaned his name and turned her head so she could brush her lips along his jaw. He shifted, their mouths meeting as he increased his pace, his fingers playing with her nipple. Her climax bore down on her. Her body tightened in anticipation of the blissful rush of sensation.

“Come for me, Celia.” His harsh pants were loud against her ear, his sweat-slickened body sticking to hers. The power of his thrusts, his commanding tone, the way his fingers stroked and played with her sensitive nipples—it was all too much.

She fell apart, crying out her pleasure as wave after wave took over her body, her inner walls clenched around the length of him. He clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her pleasured sobs, pushing as deeply as he could before letting forth a guttural groan and spilling himself inside her body. He jerked against her again and again, tightening his arm around her, his face buried in the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

Their coupling was quick, yet she’d never felt more alive. Her skin tingled, her body vibrated from within and she smiled, arching against him like a cat. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll let you rest before I attack you again.” He gave her forehead a smacking kiss, and she giggled.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

He snuggled her close and nuzzled her neck, petting her breasts and stomach with gentle fingers. She sighed, so content she never wanted to leave his embrace or his bed.

“I suppose the festivities are still going on,” she said after they remained silent for a few long moments.

“I refuse to go down there. I’m not about to let you go.” He squeezed her close.

“We’re celebrating on our own tonight. We shall join in with the Boxing Day festivities tomorrow.”

“When shall we tell them?”

“About what?”

She slapped his forearm. “You know.”

He chuckled. “Tomorrow. First thing, if you’d like. We can announce our plans at breakfast.”

“I’d hope to be married by the end of the month. Do you think it possible?” She nibbled on her lower lip, almost afraid to hear his answer.

“Whatever you want, my love.”

She turned to face him and sneaked her arms around his neck. She stroked his hair, digging her fingers into his scalp, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t even realize what she was doing until she nudged him so hard he had no choice but to roll over on his back, and she went with him. She straddled his hips, stared into his vivid blue eyes.

Tags: Karen Erickson The Merry Widows Romance
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