The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

“Ha! He is a little weasel, pretty but deadly.”

“Hush, Joan. I want to kiss you now.” He gently shifted her in his arms and brought his mouth to hers. He tasted of the sweet, darkly mysterious port he’d drunk with Ryder and Douglas after dinner. His mouth was firm and when his tongue came gently between her lips she felt a desire to lock her arms around his neck and never let him go. “That feels wonderful,” she said into his mouth. His tongue touched hers and she squirmed a bit.

He raised his head and looked at her. “I’ve missed you. Tonight, Joan, you’ll learn pleasure. Will you trust me and cease your babble about my being too large for you?”

“But you’re still as large as you were, Colin. That can’t change. I still don’t see how it can be at all wonderful for me when you have to come inside me.”

He just grinned down at her. “Trust me.”

“I suppose I must, since I want to see your beautiful face every day until I die. You’re very important to me, Colin. You must take good care of yourself. All right?”

“Yes, and I’ll also take good care of you.”

He kissed her again and yet again. He continued kissing her, lightly then more deeply, nipping at her lower lip, kissing her until she was gasping and pressing herself against him, her fingers wild in his hair and on his shoulders. He made no move to caress her breasts or touch her anywhere but her back and her arms. Kissing seemed to be the only thing on his mind. Sinjun was very happy about it, for about five minutes.

She wanted more. It was disconcerting, but she didn’t mind at all. She felt that tugging sensation low in her belly, a sort of burning that was intense yet still vague and indistinct, but she knew there had to be more and she wanted it. She vaguely remembered those feelings now, oh yes, she’d had them before, but they’d vanished when he’d hurt her. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her stomach. She pressed his palm against her belly. “I feel very strange,” she said into his mouth, her breath warm, her voice hoarse. She began to kiss him wildly, without restraint, her hands in his hair, stroking his face and shoulders.

“Yes, I can feel that you do,” he said. His fingers didn’t move for the longest time, merely rested lightly on her stomach. But he continued to kiss her until she moaned into his mouth. Then his fingers slipped slowly downward. Sinjun sucked in her breath, waiting. She felt frantic, and very very warm. She felt as if there was something wonderful waiting for her, and it was close now, very close.

“Colin,” she said, and moaned into his mouth.

“What would you like now, Joan?”

CHAPTER

18

COLIN HAD A strategy and he had no intention of allowing himself to forget it or modify it. No, he had no intention of losing his control. No, tonight he was going to make his wife want him desperately, then he would see.

She was getting close and he was both delighted and immensely relieved.

He continued to kiss her. She was warm and soft and urgent and he wanted very much to cover her with his fingers, to ease inside of her, to feel her around him, to feel the softness and warmth of her. But he held off. No, let it build within her, this passion he would continue to inflame, until she was moaning with it, then yelling. He closed his eyes, trying to picture her face when her pleasure took her.

“I want—” she began, then touched her tongue to his and gasped.

“Yes, I’ll give you that,” he said, and deepened his kiss. His fingertips were lightly cupped over her, but not moving, not caressing her, just lying there.

Sinjun wondered what was happening. She remembered that he’d been a wild man before and he’d hurt her. She realized dimly that he was being very careful with her, very restrained. Did he believe her still weak from her illness?

No, he didn’t want to scare her off again. She smiled against his wonderful mouth. She said quite without thought or hesitation, “I love you, Colin. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. I think you’re the most remarkable man in Scotland.”

He jerked at her words. He felt something move deep inside him, something he’d never felt before in his life, something hot and frantic, yet strangely gentle and tender. It scared the hell out of him. At first. Then he eased, allowing the feelings into himself, and her words. Yes, her words. He would think about it later. He kissed her again, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, and kissed her three more times before saying, “Only Scotland?”

“All right, perhaps in all of Britain.”

“Kiss me, Joan.”

Her mouth was red and swollen with his kisses, and yet again she leaned up against him without an instant’s hesitation, and he saw the need in her beautiful eyes, felt the slight trembling of her mouth as his tongue slid between her lips.

When her tongue was warm in his mouth, his fingers suddenly dipped lower. His middle fingers pressed inward, hot as the devil against the light lawn of her nightgown. She thought she’d leap from his lap.

“Let’s get you out of this damned thing,” he said, feeling the soft material dampen beneath his fingers. He brought his fingers to her lips and gently pressed against them. “That’s the taste of you, Joan. It’s very nice, don’t you think?”

She could but stare at him. Slowly, she nodded. He straightened her and pulled the gown over her head. He sat her there on his thighs, the firelight glowing behind her, her breasts in profile to him and her narrow waist and her flat belly. He’d never in his life seen a more beautifully made woman. And she was all his. His hands trembled and he flattened them to his thighs. No, he would hold control. He wouldn’t frighten her, ever again. He would hold to his plan, but it was difficult, damned difficult.

He leaned his head against the chair back. The old leather creaked comfortably under the pressure. “What would you like me to do, Joan?”

“I want you to kiss me some more.”