“Then let’s move away.”
He twirled her off in another direction and then glanced up. “Alas, another one.”
This time he pressed a kiss atop her nose, and she laughed lightly, dizzy with the heat pouring through her. The last two hours with him in the cabin had revealed a charming and good-natured gentleman that made her yearn for impossible dreams.
He spun with her again, and when he paused, they both looked up.
“Yet more mistletoe,” she said with a wide smile, but how her heart pounded.
“Did you know it is widely believed that it was the Norsemen and women who first romanticized mistletoe?”
“I did not know that,” she said with a small smile. “But I knew the Celtic druids used it for vitality and fertility.”
“Hmm.” His fingers brushed against the fluttering pulse at her throat, lingering there too long to be an accident. “In Norse mythology, when Odin’s son Baldur was prophesied to die, his mother Frigg—the goddess of love—went to all the animals and plants of the earth to secure an oath that they would not harm her son. But Frigg neglected to consult with the unassuming mistletoe, so the scheming Loki made an arrow from the plant and saw that it was used to kill the otherwise invincible Baldur. The gods were able to resurrect Baldur from the dead to his mother’s delight. The goddess of love then declared mistletoe a symbol of love and vowed to plant a kiss on all those who passed beneath it. That folklore evolved where we fine gentlemen are encouraged to steal a kiss from any woman caught standing under the mistletoe and refusing is viewed as bad luck.”
He touched her elbow, urging her to him, yet his clasp felt gentle and protective.
The thrill he gave Callie amazed her. “I would hate to deny you and endure any misfortune,” she teased.
His dark eyebrows arched, then he spoke in a velvet murmur, “How you delight my heart just now.”
He lifted her chin with a finger. Whenever his blue gaze met hers, her heart turned over in response. Callie’s whole being seemed filled with waiting. His thumb swiped over her lips. The caress was a command. And she parted her lips.
His head reached down, and Graham kissed her mouth more persuasive than she would have liked to admit. Wicked heat darted through her wanton heart, and she slipped her hands around his neck and held him to her. He tasted like a summer storm, he tasted like happiness…and ruin. They spoke of no sentiments, nor had he made any promises, yet Callie was helpless against the desires sweeping through her body.
I am four and twenty…whenever am I going to burn with need like this in someone’s arms.
He plundered to her mouth, stroking her tongue with his. Their kiss was fiery, wild, and wet. Oh, God. It was as if she was another person. Excitement hummed in her veins, and everything that had been wrong and uncertain, righted itself.
How was this possible?
He stole the rest of her thoughts with his drugging kisses, and she moaned as arousal stirred in her blood. His lips searched a path down her neck, her shoulders, and to the top of the lace that protected her breasts from his ravishment. Graham recaptured her lips, more demanding this time, and she responded with a flaming passion.
She distantly became aware he removed her clothes, and they fell away from her body. Her dress, chemise, laces, and corset were removed with kisses in between. Then she was in his arms being carried over to the small bed flush against the corner wall opposite the fire. It was a little darker there, but she could see the possessive glint in his beautiful eyes, the raw hunger surrounding her like a caged storm waiting to be unleashed. And she was not afraid. She wanted this to fill all the places that had hungered for so many things but had remained unfulfilled. He bore her down on the bed, then moved away to remove the rest of his clothing and stockings. Then he stood in all his naked glory.
Callie gasped, gripping the sheets beneath her and staring at him in wonder. His body was lean but corded with such beautiful muscles. That part of him that jutted proudly to her appeared flushed and thick. Yet instead of being afraid, her body jolted, and her legs fell apart with no urgings from him. He moved closer to the bed, staring down at her naked form. She blushed and fought the urge to drag the sheet over her.
She very much liked the awe and need on his face.
“You are beautifully made,” he said in a low, smooth voice.
The bed dipped as he came over her. Her heart fluttered, and her body tensed and heated. As if with a mere touch, she would disintegrate. He kissed the tip of her nose, then her eyes, and finally her mouth with savage intensity for breath-taking moments.
He released her mouth to press a kiss to her forehead. Her lips burned in the aftermath of his fiery possession. Her lover’s kisses lingered all over her blushing body. Her breasts surged at the intimacy of his caressing touch, and she moaned when his mouth closed over her nipple. It was as if lightning struck her low in her belly.
The sensations were hot and overwhelming. His hand seared a path over her quivering stomach down to her thighs. Then he was there, right where she ached the most. He rubbed her, and she almost fainted. She gripped his shoulders, her nails pressing deep into the muscles there as she held on for dear life. His fingers began a lust-arousing exploration of her soft, wet flesh. Callie gasped, and she trembled at that diabolical caress.
She had never imagined nothing this wonderful existed. A long finger slipped deep inside her feminine channel. A soft moan turned into a sob of raw need. It never occurred to restrain her responses or pretend demureness. Everything was too much for any form of modest indifference to his wicked lovemaking to rear its head.
She lay panting, chest heaving, desperate to process all the pleasures wreaking havoc through her body. He shifted slightly, bracing himself on one elbow so he could look at where he buried his index in her sex. Then he slipped another finger into the tightness of her body.
“Open for me, my sweet,” he murmured with a mellow baritone.
She fisted the sheets and parted her legs more. His grunt of satisfaction said that was exactly what he needed. And somehow, his fingers burrowed even deeper, for she now felt a pinch of pain mingling with the awful pleasure.
Oh! It felt so naughty that he watched as he worked his digits inside her sex, witnessed the shaking of her thighs, and those instinctive rises of her hips. Irresistibly her gaze fell below his bent head…watching too as his fingers thrust and withdrew, building a fever of need right where he touched.
Another little sob came from her throat, and she gripped the sheets tighter.