Veils of Silk(123)

He lifted his head and studied her face. In the depths of her eyes was joy, tempered by lingering anxiety. It couldn't be easy for her to put aside the fears that had ruled her for so long. Softly he said, "You are so lovely, Larishka. Bewitching enough to drive a man mad. I don't think I'll be able to bear it if you change your mind again."

"That won't happen," she said, her eyes wide and earnest. "Not this time. Not ever again."

The only jewelry she wore was the necklace that Meera had given her. The delicate gold chain drew attention to her flawless skin, which was as finely textured as the petals that surrounded them. Delicious. Irresistible. He pressed his lips to the hollow below her ear, then trailed his tongue along her throat until he reached the cool gold links of the chain.

Laura exhaled with a breathy sound and her head fell back, her pliant body arching over his supportive arm. She was so trusting that tenderness immobilized him and became anguish. How could she trust him when he was so undeserving?

Before the thought could take hold and poison his pleasure in the moment, he said, "This time I'm going to see all of you."

The sari was draped in an improvised style, without a blouse, so that one shoulder was bare, the other covered, rather like a Roman toga. The silk was so sheer that the darker circles that tipped her full breasts and the small shadow of her navel were visible even through half a dozen layers of fabric.

He untucked the sari where it was folded across her breasts, then lifted it away from her, unwinding the fabric like thread from a spool. Laura made a dance of it, turning slowly, a seductive smile on her face, her gaze catching his each time she came around. The luscious curves of her body became more visible as every rotation removed another veil of silk.

The last length of fabric slithered away in a rush, landing on the floor as a hazy splash across the pink petals, leaving Laura fully revealed. Mouth dry, he said, "You are even more beautiful than I dreamed. A fantasy come to life."

"My figure used to embarrass me," she said, a little shy at her nakedness. "Too much of everything to be ladylike."

He laughed. "Everything is exactly right. Not a straight line anywhere."

He had wanted to look, but now he had to touch. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he caressed the hollows above her collarbones with his thumbs. "Skin like the very finest polished wood, smooth and alive."

He splayed his fingers outward, then skimmed his hands down her sides, trying to memorize all the complex contours. "A waist so slim I can circle it with my hands.'' He demonstrated, loving the way her torso tapered down, then flared into ripe, inviting hips. "Gorgeous shapely legs."

Smiling with pleasure, she reached for his shirt. "Now it's my turn to see you." As she undid his buttons, her fingertips grazed his chest, sending hot jolts of sensation crackling through him. He caught his breath, knowing how hard it would be to make love properly when his minx of a wife could dissolve his will with a touch.

She peeled off his coat, then tugged his shirttails loose and pulled the shirt over his head. When his torso was bare, she gave a low sigh of satisfaction and leaned forward to nuzzle her face against his shoulder, her lips soft against his skin, her silky sweep of hair gliding over his chest and ribs. "You're rather gorgeous yourself." She began nipping at him with light, teasing bites that splintered what was left of his control.

With sudden furious impatience, he bent over and dragged his boots off. He was about to remove the rest of his clothing when Laura, laughing, caught his hand and pulled him down to the floor. He went willingly, catching her in his arms and rolling her over for a kiss. The scent of a thousand roses exploded around them, the petals a cushion as soft as crushed silk.

Cutting through the sweet, clear fragrance of roses was the heady aroma of Laura's perfume, an alluring feminine scent that somehow intensified her Lauraness. He molded her magnificent breasts with his hands, then buried his face between them, rubbing back and forth, entranced by the creamy smoothness.

A faint rasping sound reminded him that he hadn't shaved since that morning, and when he raised his head he saw that his whiskers had left faint red marks. "Sorry," he said huskily, using his mouth and tongue to solace any soreness.

He couldn't seem to get enough of the sight and feel of her breasts. And the taste, ah, yes, the taste. His lips closed over one dusky nipple. Laura shuddered, her hips rocking against him. As he moved to the other nipple, her nails bit into his back, then slid under his waistband to dig into his buttocks.

Swearing mentally for not having taken the time to get fully undressed, he rolled onto one hip and unbuttoned himself, a process that was complicated by Laura's unskilled but eager fingers. When she slipped her hand into his trousers and touched his hardened flesh, he gasped and his vision darkened. Nothing in his past had prepared him for this degree of desire, for never had he known a woman like this one.