“Trenton.”
Something profound and beautiful flashed in his eyes at her response. “Come to bed with me,” he said hoarsely.
Whether it was a request or a command, Ariana didn’t care. The answer was the same: “Yes.”
He swept her into his arms, reaching the bed in two strides and l
owering them both to the soft mattress.
“Misty angel,” he rasped, his voice harsh with need, strained with the discipline of holding back, “I want you … God, how I want you.” He buried his face in Ariana’s hair, his hands slowly exploring the soft contours of her body through the thin nightdress.
Explosions of pure sensation seized her … raw, dazzling, galvanized sensation: the exquisite softness of the bed beneath her, Trenton’s warm mouth and hands burning through her skin, his words of desire reverberating in her ears. No one had ever needed her like this, not ever. The reality was exhilarating.
But it wasn’t enough.
Ariana squirmed, her body desperate for more, but of what, she had no idea.
Trenton did.
Slowly, gently, he reached up to unbutton her gown, lingering over each button as if to give her time to adjust to the inevitability of what was to be. Ariana lay quiet, her eyes wide open now and glued to his.
“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, smoothing his thumb over the bare skin of her collarbone. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not,” she breathed back, her chest rising and falling with anticipation and … yes, anxiety. “Well, maybe a bit,” she clarified, her voice barely audible.
He smiled at her admission, bending to brush his lips across her naked flesh. “Fear is not what I want you to feel,” he said huskily, easing the cotton edges of her nightdress farther apart. “What I want you to feel is pleasure.” He bent his head to the inner slopes of her breasts, exposed now to his seeking mouth and hands. “Flowers,” he murmured, inhaling deeply. “Intoxicating flowers.”
“Trenton.” Ariana said his name on a sigh, her trembling fingers sliding into his hair, unconsciously holding him to her. Her slivers of fear fragmented, splintered more completely with each brush of his lips, each tug of her gown, until she was nearly frantic to be naked to the total possession of his mouth. “Please …” she whispered.
He didn’t need to ask for what she was so desperately pleading. With one purposeful yank, the gown was down at her waist, trapping her arms within it and baring her breasts to his will. He didn’t wait but drew one taut, aching nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, scraping it lightly with his teeth.
Ariana heard herself cry out, but she couldn’t have silenced herself if she’d tried. She arched, needing more of Trenton’s magnificent caresses, needing them now.
Trenton obliged her by deepening the contact, sliding his arm beneath her back, lifting her to him and enveloping her nipple with a suction so powerful she had to bite her lips to keep from crying out again.
“Am I hurting you?” he demanded hoarsely.
She shook her head wildly. “Don’t stop.”
“Never, misty angel. Never.” He bent to claim her other breast, taking it with the same force as he had the first, evoking the same reaction from his bride. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he rasped, unwilling, unable to tear his mouth from her sweet, sweet flesh.
“What I’m doing to you?” she responded weakly. “What about what you’re doing to me?”
Despite his raging, devouring passion, he couldn’t help but smile. “What am I doing to you, Ariana? Tell me.” He licked teasing circles around one damp, swollen nipple.
“I’m drowning,” she moaned softly. “And I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“I’ll make it stop. I promise you: I’ll make it stop.” He dragged the nightdress down her legs, crumpling it into a discarded ball at the foot of the bed.
Ariana opened her eyes in time to see Trenton’s ravenous gaze rake her nakedness, lingering hungrily on the auburn curls between her thighs. Instinctively, she reached down to cover herself.
“Don’t.” He caught her hand in his, a look of stark longing on his face. “You’re exquisite. Don’t ever, ever hide yourself from me.”
Ariana’s protest dissipated, not at his command, but at the genuine emotion on his face, in his voice. She relaxed, silently giving her husband free reign of her body.
Trenton brought her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers. “Close your eyes,” he instructed softly. “Close your eyes and feel.”
Ariana’s eyes drifted shut.