Ariana’s eyes slid shut, her emotions suspended, waiting, her intuition alerting her to the fact that this moment would forever divide her life into before and after.
Their lips touched, brushed, touched again. And then Trenton’s mouth opened over hers in a soul-shattering kiss that dragged the breath from her lungs … and gave it back again, consuming her and pervading her all at once.
How wonderful, her dazed mind proclaimed. How incredibly wonderful.
With a soft, dreamy sigh Ariana gave herself up to the rapturous swirling feelings. She moved closer to her husband, gliding her hands up the elegant silk of his robe, resting them lightly over his rapidly escalating heartbeat.
Trenton responded instantly, leading Ariana into a marvelous new world of sensual bliss dictated by the magic of his kiss. He molded her lips possessively beneath his, fitting and shaping them as perfectly as two interlocking pieces of a puzzle, his fists clenching in her hair.
Hopelessly immersed in the kiss, Ariana was floating away on a silver-tipped cloud, oblivious to everything but sensation. She jerked back to reality, tensing with surprise when Trenton’s tongue glided across her lips, seeking entry.
“Y-Your Grace …” she began.
“Shhh …” As if sensing her shock Trenton paused, soothing her with lazy brushes of his fingertips up and down her back, waiting until she relaxed in his arms once more. Then, with an almost imperceptible motion, he eased her closer, bringing her up against the hard wall of his chest.
Ariana gasped aloud. Even through the thin fabric of her nightdress, the contact was electrifying, wildly erotic, shaking her down to her toes. She gripped the open edges of his robe, her breath unraveling on a soft exclamation of physical awakening.
Trenton captured the sound, tangling his hands in her hair and easing his tongue into the warm, honeyed recesses of her mouth.
Ariana’s knees nearly gave way beneath her. Never had she imagined a man penetrating a woman in this manner … nor that it could feel so incredibly good. For a time she remained passive, letting him teach her how it was done, glorying in each sensual caress, opening her mouth eagerly to receive the suggestive invasion of his tongue. Then, with artless curiosity and grace, she touched her tongue to his, fencing lightly as he had with her.
Trenton made a harsh sound deep in his throat, his body jolting with shock and desire. He tore his mouth from hers, his breath coming in harsh pants, and stared down in amazement.
“Did I do something wrong?” Ariana whispered, seeing his intense expression.
“No, my little innocent, you did nothing wrong.” Trenton sounded as if he’d been running a great distance. “I just never expected such passion … not from you, or myself.”
A hint of a blush stained Ariana’s cheeks, and she attempted to free herself from his grasp. “I don’t know what you expected, but apparently I’ve disappointed you.”
Trenton’s arms tightened like steel bands. “To the contrary, my extraordinary bride, you’ve exceeded my wildest fantasies.” His lips curved slightly. “And believe me, I’ve had many about this night.”
Ariana ceased her struggles. “Oh.” She gave him a quizzical look. “That’s good then, isn’t it?”
He chuckled. “Very good.” He bent to press his lips to the pulse beating erratically at her neck. “You smell like flowers.”
“Which ones?” she answered weakly, her head reeling. “There are hundreds of different varieties of—”
“Sweet ones,” he interjected, taking light, nipping sips of her skin until he reached the delicate curve of her jawbone. “Ones that are new, untouched.” He grazed the soft skin of her cheek. “With buds just waiting to be picked.” He kissed her chin, her nose, the corners of her mouth. “Flowers that are ready to open to the sun, to be bathed in its fire, to drown in its heat.” He buried his lips in hers, and she relented in a rush, melting into a boneless puddle of sensation. She clutched his arms for support, drowning in the inferno of their kiss.
“Put your arms around me,” he commanded against her mouth, urging her hands higher. “Hold me.”
Ariana obeyed without question, reveling in Trenton’s low groan of pleasure.
He molded her body to his, hungry and insistent, forcing her to know her effect on him, every hardened contour, every throbbing inch. And while moments before it would have frightened her, Ariana felt an answering leap inside her, an inner voice that, despite her innocence, knew just what to do.
She pressed closer, moving experimentally against her husband, and was rewarded by the violent shudder that wracked his massive frame.
Trenton lifted her from the floor and crushed her in his arms. “Say my name,” he ordered.
Ariana barely heard him.
“Say it, Ariana.” He tore his mouth from hers. “My given name. Not ‘Your Grace’ … or any other form of ducal address. I want to hear my name from your lips.”
She opened her eyes and stared into his, feeling lost and yet somehow not lost at all, knowing what Trenton needed … even knowing why.
“Trenton,” she whispered.
“Again.”