Her Christmas Earl

Chapter Eight

PHILIPPA HAD TIME to snatch one shocked breath before Blair seized her in his arms and kissed her as if waiting another second would kill him. The sensation was overwhelming, like being caught up in a whirlwind or tumbling against the beach in a great wave. Compared to the sweet tenderness of his last kiss, this was closer to those wild, passionate moments they’d shared in his dressing room. As heat poured through her, she immediately softened against him and moaned in surrender.

Through the tumult, she was vaguely aware of him flinging away his dressing gown. When her seeking, stroking hands met warm skin, a thrill sizzled through her. She’d never touched anyone like this. A man’s body offered a banquet of unsuspected pleasures. Blair was hard where she was soft; straight where she curved; powerful and potent. The musky scent of his skin flooded her senses.

She gave a soft protest when he drew her to her knees, interrupting her exploration. Then a gasp of shock mixed with excitement when he tugged her nightdress over her head and sent it flying through the air.

She had no time to feel self-conscious because he caught her up and kissed her with an enthusiasm that sent the blood pumping madly through her veins. She tasted claret on his breath.

He tipped her back against the bed and lifted his head to smile down at her with a masculine appreciation that made her tremble and sigh. “You’re glorious, my darling.”

She hadn’t blushed when he flung off her nightdress. She blushed now at the awe in his tone. Once she might have argued with his remark. But staring into his glowing green eyes, for the first time in her life she felt genuinely beautiful. The experience was heady.

“Thanks to you, I feel glorious,” she admitted with a touch of shyness, then leaned forward and kissed him. He gave a grunt of pleased surprise before he took charge with magnificent results.

On a groan of anticipation he settled above her, her legs framing his lean hips. His weight crushed her into the bed and stole her breath in an unfamiliar but wonderfully pleasing way. She ran her hands up and down his back, fascinated to feel the powerful muscles flex. More fiery kisses burned away her brief curiosity to see his nakedness. His tongue tangled with hers, his arms lashed her to his long, strong body.

For the first time, he touched her breasts. She cried out in startled pleasure as response sizzled through her. Those long fingers rolled her nipples into hard, aching points. She trembled at her spiking reactions.

“Oh, Blair…”

He bent his head and took one yearning peak between his lips, sucking gently at first, then with more pressure. Another thrill jolted her and a throbbing, impatient puls

e set up between her legs. When he’d kissed her before, she thought she’d discovered desire, but compared to this conflagration of need, that had been a mere flicker.

Her trembling hands tangled in his thick dark hair, pressing him closer, asking for more of this exquisite torture. He made a wordless sound of appreciation deep in his throat and shifted his attention to her other nipple. Her restless, relentless excitement swelled.

Philippa spiraled toward something her mind didn’t understand but which her body craved. She whimpered in desperation as the unknown goal remained beyond reach. The hot brush of Blair’s skin, the scent of his body, his lips on her breast, the touch of his hands, nothing eased the coiling tension.

Blair raised his head to stare down at her stretched beneath him. In the candlelight, his expression was stark with need. She’d never imagined he could look like this. His green eyes glittered with hunger. The skin over his high Celtic cheekbones was taut. His mouth glistened from her kisses.

Instead of this new version of Blair terrifying her into retreat, another shiver of arousal ran through her. He was such a superb man. And right now, he was hers to enjoy.

Emboldened, she began to explore his body, learning the hard lines of muscle and bone, the jut of his hip, the curve of his buttocks. Yesterday, even an hour ago, she’d have hesitated to touch him like this. But she was beyond holding back. He was her husband and she wanted to claim every inch of him.

“I feel like I’m caught in a storm,” she confessed, her voice husky.

“Me too.” He cupped her jaw and tilted her face for more soul-stealing kisses. He nipped her bottom lip and drew it between his teeth, sending another of those extraordinary jolts through her. “You make me tremble.”

“I’m glad.” Once she’d never have believed that plain Philippa Sanders could affect him so profoundly, but she couldn’t mistake the ripples of reaction running through the body poised above hers.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders and she raised her mouth to his. The knowledge that she had this experienced man of the world shaking with desire made her want to cry. After her mother’s cold account of the sexual act, she’d dreaded her husband’s attentions. Now she began to suspect that her mother had neglected the most important information. The section about how her husband could drive her mad with anticipation. Blair’s kisses had always promised pleasure rather than shame and submission.

Now the delight she found in his arms was astounding enough. Even more astounding was that yielding to Blair’s passion was an act of heart as well as body. Every brush of his hand or glance of his lips lured her far beyond the physical realm.

“Oh, my beautiful sweetheart—” he groaned, grazing her neck with his teeth.

She cried out at the tingling response. Her eager hands tested the hard ladder of his ribs, his narrow hips, the powerful thighs. Daringly she ventured lower, toward the part of him that remained a mystery.

He groaned again as her hand brushed his silky heat. Briefly cowardice defeated curiosity. She withdrew and curled her hands across his back. He buried his silky head in her shoulder and breathed in great gusts that shook her with their force. Their kisses in his dressing room hadn’t prepared her for the powerful intimacy of lying beneath him.

“Should I stop?” Philippa asked shakily. Her inexperience made her feel suddenly awkward. She had no idea what a man liked a woman to do to him.

“Hell, no,” he gasped on a warm puff of breath that set off a fusillade of sensation inside her.

“I may touch you?”

His laugh was edged, as if he was in pain. “Please.”