Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night

And all I need is you. The words trembled on her lips, but they did not spill. She slid her bottom closer to the edge of the bed so she could hug him to her. There was still a separation between their bodies, and he touched the top of her knee and with firm pressure opened her legs until her thighs widened enough to cradle him between them. The intimacy of it had heat flushing through her entire body. Surely, he could feel the heat of it through his clothes.

They hugged for several minutes with his face buried in the crook of her neck, and her cheek resting against the side of his jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to the exposed arch of her throat. Her pulse tripped, a million butterflies took flight in her belly, and her heart raced. They stayed like that for a breathless moment.

“I missed your smell, the taste of your skin,” he murmured roughly, inhaling deeply as if wanting to trap her scent into his lungs.

“I missed you too,” she whispered achingly.

“Did you read the book?”

&n

bsp; This time the question was asked right at her ear. She felt tempted to lie, for the mortifying truth was that she'd devoured every scandalous word and erotic picture. Primrose felt the manner in which her entire body blushed indicated that she had indeed read the very naughty and provocative book which had been delivered to her encased in several layers of wrappings six months ago. She’d almost fainted when she’d opened the package and discovered its content. “Yes,” she said.

This time he placed the kiss on the tip of her ear. “Good.”

Her heart began to beat a little harder. “And why is it good?”

She felt the curve of his lips against her cheek as he smiled.

“I did not want to shock your sensibilities on our wedding night…now you’ll know what to expect.”

She shifted even closer, butting her cheek against his, pressing a kiss of her own against his jaw. There was a sense of anticipation burning through her veins, and nothing would ease her anxiety. Or was it more than that? Her breasts ached to the point where the simplest press against his chest abraded the sensitive tips of her nipples, and between her legs was mortifyingly wet.

Releasing her clasp from around his shoulders, she leaned back slightly so they could see each other’s face. “It was a very naughty book,” she said softly.

A guarded look entered his expression. "Were you horrified for having been exposed to such lascivious wantonness?"

“No.”

She brushed locks of hair from his forehead, then with the tip of her finger, she gently traced the small scar at the corner of his mouth. “Do you wish to debauch me in such a manner?”

His thumb dragged softly over her bottom lip. “God help me, but I do, my Primrose. But we shall speak more on the matter after our marriage,” he said gently with a smile of such wicked promise her mouth dried.

A shiver, half dread, half anticipation, ruffled her composure. “Gabriel?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

She leaned over to kiss his lips softly. “I do not want to wait until our wedding night.”

Chapter 3

The muted sound of the howling wind outside echoed through the room. The fireplace danced, and the room dipped in more shadows as the last of the winter sun disappeared behind the clouds. The room felt more intimate, golden lights from the hearth danced over the blue patterned wallpapers, the thick silver drapes stirred, the winds sweeping through the cracks of the windows curling through the room.

She put her hand atop his chest, covering his fiercely beating heart. “We’ve already waited a year,” she tempted on a soft whisper. “Let’s not wait any longer.”

Her senses were filled with the warm, masculine scent of him. How she wanted this man. So many nights spent longing just for this intimacy, aching for the feel of his body covering her, his arms holding her, just as he was now. And she knew it was more than that, but she could not bring herself to voice her doubts. They felt too raw, too frightening. He'd never proved himself to be inconsistent, and she knew he loved her. But their entire courtship had been done in secret, and they had no idea of the strident objections they would face.

But if he should change his mind tomorrow at his family’s disapproval, she would have experienced passion and love with him, even just once. She would have memories that would last her a lifetime, and she would have them with a man she loved with her whole heart.

“Primrose,” her name escaped his lips like a plea.

“I’ve read the book,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “Several times.”

Hunger flashed in his eyes, and a flush worked its way over his cheekbones.

His finger skimmed the neckline of her gown, tracing the flesh of her breasts. “Did you, truly?” he murmured.

She felt so sensual and adventurous—no longer an uncertain girl but a woman who was not afraid to satisfy the cravings which had long lingered within her heart for this man. “Yes. Twice.”