He lowered his chin and dark locks of his hair fell over his forehead, giving him a dangerous appeal. His stomach visibly tensed as he reached for the fastening of his breeches. Emma drew her knee higher on the mattress. The movement caught his eye. He halted the progress of loosening his breeches to gaze steadily and darkly at the shadow between her legs.
Emma felt an insane desire to laugh. Not a girl’s light giggle, but the husky laugh of a woman who was slowly learning the power of her own sensual allure.
“Roderick,” she reminded softly, “your breeches, please.”
He made quick work of the garment after that—kicking off his shoes, removing his stockings, and peeling the breeches down the length of his muscled legs until he could kick those aside as well.
When he finally stood tall before her—naked, proud, and so very, very male—Emma simply forgot to breathe. The narrow width of his hips drew down to solid, muscled thighs, sprinkled liberally with dark hair, and feet braced firmly apart in the lush carpet. The most alarming and beautiful part of him stood strong at the apex of his thighs.
Emma knew something about the physical act of lovemaking. Her mother had managed to go over the basic details before she had died. As Emma openly examined the hard, thick length of him, her mouth went dry and wetness pooled hotly in the place where they would join.
“What are you thinking, Emma?” he asked quietly as he stood stiff and tense, as if waiting for her acceptance.
Her mind was so clouded with the sensations roaring through her body, she answered in full truthfulness without first considering her words. “I am wondering what it will feel like to have that part of you inside me.”
His erection pulsed at her words, and Emma felt an answering pulse in her inner flesh. She squeezed her legs together at the unexpected pleasure of the sensation.
Roderick came forward to the edge of the bed, leaning over her. She fell back against the pillows as his hands braced on either side of her shoulders.
He looked down into her face. His expression was dark and dangerous.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You will soon feel me buried deep within you, but not yet. There are so many other ways…and places…I want to touch you first.”
He lowered his head to kiss her. Their lips were the only place they touched, but the intensity of that kiss spread out to every corner of her awareness, tingled across every inch of her skin and rolled through every vein.
Roderick stretched out along her side. Propping his head in one hand, he laid his other hand flat over her low belly, splaying his fingers from sternum to pubic bone.
He observed the path of his hand as it drew up along her side, his fingers easing over her ribs until his thumb caught beneath the under-curve of her breast.
Emma stared into his face, her breath shallow with anticipation.
He gave a tiny, barely perceptible smile when he lifted the weight of her breast, plumping it, cradling it in his large palm. His circled his fingertip around the rosy peak. Her nipple constricted to a tight bud, and he leaned forward to close his mouth over her.
At the first decadent swirl of his tongue, Emma arched off the bed. The combination of velvet heat and silken moisture overwhelmed her tightly strung senses. She lifted her hand to his head, holding him to her breast as the fire he ignited spread throughout her body.
He shifted position and his mouth plundered her other breast. His lips tugging, his teeth nipping, and his tongue soothing.
Emma grew restless.
She grasped at his shoulders and arched into him. She wanted to move her legs, slide her knee up along his, feel the rough texture of his hair against her inner thigh. As he continued to lavish her breasts with attention, he threw one of his legs over both of hers, confining her movements.
She wanted to protest, but then she felt the hard length of his erection pressing hot and intimate to the side of her hip. She reached between them, seeking him. When her fingers first brushed his tip, she was surprised by just how hot and smooth his male flesh was. He jolted at her tentative touch and sucked at her breast, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth.
But she was determined, and she wriggled her hips to create space between them. He didn’t allow much, but it was enough. And as her fingers closed around him, he pulsed heavily in her hand.
He groaned and lifted his head to take her mouth in a hot, openmouthed kiss. The kiss had less finesse than passion, and to Emma, it was perfect. She tightened her fingers around him, turning so she could press her breasts against his chest. His leg lifted higher over hers and she bent her knee, sliding it up between his thighs.
Planting his palm low on her back, he pulled her into the curve of his body. His kiss gentled then. The fierce passion eased into a seductive dance as he smoothed his hand over the soft globes of her derriere, sliding his fingertips along the crevice between, reaching ever lower.