‘How long have you been barefoot?’ He frowned, pretending to be stern.
‘Since you met me?’ She slanted a rueful smile.
‘You were wearing flip-flops when I first met you.’ His husky voice was warm with humour. ‘So now you’re my wife, you’re determined to go barefoot?’
‘Only because my wedding shoes pinched.’
He laughed, a rumble low in his chest. ‘Of course, you took your shoes off,’ he said with an accepting shrug. ‘You’re Rosie.’
‘I was a bride with sore feet,’ she argued softly, wondering if she dared hope that Xavier was trying to put her at her ease. She wasn’t embarrassed standing in front of him naked. She was like an open book, waiting to see what would fill the next chapter. Something about her manner must have touched him, because he took her face very gently in his hands to kiss her as she’d always dreamed her husband would kiss her on her wedding night. It was a gentle and undemanding kiss, and when she responded, softening and sighing, he pushed his fingers through her hair to cradle her scalp, holding her with extreme tenderness, as if she were very precious to him. This was not the fiery passion that had consumed them once before, but the start of a very thorough seduction, she suspected. Xavier could make love to her with nothing more than teasing kisses that made her want so much more. His lips were warm and persuasive, and when his tongue demanded possession of her mouth, she couldn’t refuse him anything.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he stood back and undressed. He was like a statue cast in bronze, deeply tanned, and brutally beautiful. She stared at him in awe.
‘Touch me,’ he said, joining her on the bed.
When she hesitated he took hold of her hands and guided her fingers across his muscular chest, and on over the ridged muscles of his belly. ‘Hold me,’ he commanded softly.
Her anxious gaze flew to his face and she shook her head.
‘Why not?’ he whispered, his stare dark and long.
‘Because I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’ll probably get it horribly wrong.’
He smiled. ‘What’s to get wrong?’ Drawing her into his arms, he guided her, and when she gasped, he asked, ‘Did I scorch you?’
Only her heart.
‘Do I frighten you, Rosie?’
Lifting her head, she stared steadily into his eyes. ‘No. You don’t frighten me, Xavier.’
He kissed her, and within moments he deepened the kiss. He could soothe and arouse her all at the same time, and explore her body until she was whimpering with need. Lacing her fingers through his hair, she closed her eyes and basked in pleasure.
Nudging one hard-muscled thigh between her legs, he worked some magic with his hands that made her forget her fears. Arching her body towards him, she searched for more contact, more pleasure, and when he cupped her buttocks in his big, strong hands to hold her in place as he pleasured her, cries of need poured from her throat. She needed this—needed him.
‘Not enough?’ he murmured.
‘No,’ she exclaimed.
‘And now?’ he whispered.
She was beyond speech by this time, and could only exhale raggedly and shake her head.
‘Enough?’ he said as he caught just the tip of his erection inside her.
‘No—’ The word was torn from her throat.
Pinning her wrists above her head, he brought his face close to ask, ‘Do you trust me?’
‘Yes... I trust you.’
And so he stroked and dipped and pulled away again, until she was writhing beneath him, helpless with frustration. She needed so much more than he seemed prepared to give her. But then, very slowly, and all the time holding her gaze, he sank deep.
There was a moment, the very briefest of moments, when her body yielded to him and she felt a pinprick of discomfort. It was enough for her to briefly forget the erotic trance into which he’d placed her, but he had expected this, and now he soothed her with tender words and gentle kisses, until all she could think about was him.
Xavier took her slowly and carefully until he was lodged deep inside her, where he rested for a moment, giving her a chance to become used to the sensation. And then he worked his hips until she was clinging to the edge of the precipice with her fingertips. One deep, firm thrust, and she fell, gratefully claiming her rele
ase with shocked and greedy cries of pleasure, and when she finally quietened there was only one word on her lips, and that was, ‘More.’