Chapter Twenty-Nine
There was no one else she had ever wanted. Not like this. Something had built in her as he’d looked at her, still damp from her bath. His eyes and their bursts of gold had followed all the lines of her, touching her and warming her as his hands would do if he’d been closer.
And now, after so much looking, parts of her ached that she had not known could ache.
“Your clothes,” she said. Perhaps he had forgotten he wore his clothing.
His cravat would go first. And so it did, as she untied it and dropped the linen to the floor a moment later. The buttons of his jacket were next. Spreading his coat wide, she set her hands against the waistcoat beneath. His heartbeat fluttered against her palm. Aside from that fast rhythm, he seemed very still beneath her hands.
“Let me.” His voice was soft, with a rasp that shivered through her. “You will undo me otherwise.”
She smiled and stepped back. His eyes did not leave hers as he began to disrobe, as if he wanted to see each of her thoughts as he bared himself for her.
He was very broad in the shoulders. This was not by the design of his tailor. She saw now that his coat and waistcoat and shirt were removed. Hair was sprinkled here and there across his chest. She wanted to touch him, to feel the light hair beneath her fingertips, to listen to his heartbeat.
He was also narrow in the waist and muscular in the thigh. She saw this as his boots were removed, as his trousers joined the mountain of garments on the floor. And there, his manhood was ready. Very ready. As was she. This, he would read on her face. He would hear it, if she spoke, but she found her throat dry, her voice absent.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, to the lips that kissed her with need. She wanted it on her, wanted to taste him without fear of discovery. She reached up and set a thumb over his lips. They were full and sculpted and pressed a small, openmouthed kiss to her thumb.
She had no breath. No air at all. Her stomach muscles fluttered and sent liquid waves to the very center of her.
“Maximilian.” She had located her voice but could still scarcely speak. “Kiss me. Please.”
His eyes went very dark and very focused. He cupped her face, thumbs feathering light touches across her cheekbones. He bent his head, capturing her mouth with a dedicated concentration that could rob a woman of strength.
It robbed her of strength so that her body quivered. Again, as he shifted the angle of the kiss. And again, as he delved deep, tongue seeking tongue. His lips were firm and they were strong and gave her the taste of him she craved. He pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw, then trailed his lips down her neck to press another kiss on her collarbone. Then another. More, here, there, on the curve of her shoulder, again just below her ear.
He made love with his mouth as she’d hoped he would, so that she was hollowed out and refilled with nothing but urgent heat.
She lifted her chin so that he could access her throat and felt the brush of her own hair against her buttocks. Her hands fluttered over his shoulders, skimmed up his neck to tangle in the hair there. She tugged, not painfully, but enough that he would understand her need for him.
“Do not go slow, Maximilian. Later there will be time for leisure.” She pressed her lips against his, and the low hum in her blood quickened. “Not now.”
She leaned her body into his. His manhood pressed against her belly, hot and hard. Her breasts brushed the hair on his chest she had wanted to feel, sensitizing her nipples so they rose up.
He groaned quietly, and his hands grazed her collarbone, skimmed over her shoulders, arms, and to her hips—then around so he cupped the round globes of her buttocks, pulling her closer to him. Harder.
“Maximilian.” She breathed the word into the space between them and wrapped her legs around his waist, her mouth moving desperately over his. She could feel him pressed against the center of her. She was wet there, and it seemed he would slip right inside her.
He did not, instead carrying her to the bed where the silk coverlet was cool against her heated skin. He laid her down gently, despite the tensed muscles in his arms, and then stood back, looking at her again. His eyes moved first to her toes, skimming along her body. They rested on her thighs, then her hips. Darkened as he considered her breasts. Finally, he focused on her face with such intensity she felt his passion burn beneath her skin.
“Come, Maximilian.” She reached for him—the man she had chosen.
He moved over her, propping himself up so that he did not crush her. Always thoughtful, was Maximilian.
His body was long and hard, with muscles not of a trained spy, but of a man who was too disciplined to become soft. She ran her hands over the muscles of his arms as he raised himself up. Over the evidence of discipline he carried with him.
“Are you certain?” He murmured the words into her ear. Desire lowered his voice to a husky, nearly inaudible level.
The sound of his voice, the meaning there, sent her back arching so her breasts pressed against his chest. Her legs came around him, pulling him closer. He was there, at the entrance of her body. At that most intimate place. She closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of Maximilian. Reveled in his strength, his gentleness.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He kissed the soft spot beneath her ear and made her sigh. She opened for him, and he slid inside her.
They both stilled. Perhaps time had slowed. Perhaps the earth was motionless on its axis. Vivienne could only revel in the feel of his arms around her, of his strength, of the heat that filled her.
“Vivienne,” he whispered against her neck, holding himself motionless. “It seems I have been waiting a long time for you. I didn’t realize how long until now.”
Why this made her want to cry, she did not know. Blinking back tears, she tightened her arms around him.
He moved within her, shifting, thrusting, but still gently. Always with care and deliberation, using as much science and study as he used for life. He did not thrust wildly, but waited for her reactions, each contraction of muscle and sigh on the air. He saw every movement of her body, every shift in her expression.
He set his lips against hers, inhaled, drawing in a breath that seemed to bring with it her very essence.
Then he drove her to the edge and over.