Whirlwind Affair

Chapter 18

At precisely half past midnight, Robert slipped into Allie's bedchamber, closing and locking the door behind him. She stood near the fireplace, surrounded by a golden, backlit glow that made her appear ethereal. Except for her eyes. They looked wickedly aware, and full of desire.

A lump lodged in his throat. It seemed as if he'd waited forever to find her, had searched everywhere for her. And here she was. Waiting for him. At last.

With his gaze fastened on hers, he crossed the room, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. He wore only his royal-blue dressing gown, knotted loosely at his waist, and with each step he took, the silky material abraded his overheated skin. He stopped directly in front of her, his heart slapping against his ribs as if he'd run ten miles.

"I want you to know," he said softly, "that I shall try my best to go slowly this time, but given how I feel right now-without having even touched you-I'm afraid the chances are not particularly good."

She stepped forward, erasing the two-foot space he'd left between them, then splayed her palms against his chest in the V opening of his dressing gown, instantly tightening his groin. He rested his hands on her waist, sucking in a breath when she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his exposed skin.

"I think," she said, her breath caressing him, "that slowly can wait for later." She replaced her fingers with her warm mouth, flicking her tongue over his nipples, sending a shudder through him. Her hands slid down his abdomen to the tie at his waist. Grasping her wrists, he took a shaky step back.

"Later will arrive in mere seconds if you continue to do that," he ground out. Disappointment tempered with unmistakable feminine awareness glittered in her eyes. His own gaze roamed slowly down her golden-clad body. "That is indeed a beautiful gown," he murmured.

"Yes."

"Let's take it off."

Her eyes darkened. "Yes."

Releasing her wrists, he stepped behind her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he leaned forward and kissed the pale, vulnerable skin at the base of her neck. Honeysuckle teased his senses, and he touched his tongue to the spot, absorbing the delicate shiver that ran through her.

Straightening, he ran his finger along the row of tiny buttons running down the gown from just below her nape to the center of her back. He slipped the top one through its loop, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of creamy skin, which he kissed before slipping the second button free.

"I specifically asked Madame Renee to put these buttons here," he whispered as he undid the third and fourth fastenings, "so that I could do this." The remaining buttons came free, and he slowly parted the material and ran a single fingertip down her spine.

A breath huffed from her. "Most likely I should be appalled at such arrogance and presumption."

"Not arrogance," he whispered against her neck. "Confidence. Knowing when something is… right. And inevitable." He gently pushed the gown from her shoulders and down her arms. It slithered over her hips, pooling in a golden puddle at her feet. He turned her slowly around, then took her hand, helping her to step out of the circle of material. He then picked up the gown and laid it over the back of a wing chair, congratulating himself on his impressive show of restraint thus far.

Turning back toward her, he swallowed. Dressed in nothing more than a nearly transparent chemise and delicate stockings tied with lace garters, she stole his breath. And a good deal of the restraint he'd just congratulated himself upon. Coral-hued nipples pressed against her chemise, calling to him like a siren's song.

He started toward her, but she backed up. He raised his gaze to hers and was arrested by the devilish challenge sparkling in her eyes.

"You're looking at me in a very distracting way," she said in a raspy voice he could only describe as smoky.

He advanced several more steps, angling himself so that her retreat led her directly toward the bed. "On the contrary, I'm not the least bit distracted. I know exactly what I plan to do with you."

"Oh, my. Would you care to enlighten me?"

Her retreat was halted when the backs of her legs hit the side of the mattress. He stalked slowly forward, like a jungle cat preparing to pounce on its prey. Halting directly in front of her, he absorbed the desire and mischief dancing in her eyes, the rapid pulse quivering at the base of her throat, the delicate, unmistakable scent of female arousal rising from her skin.

"My darling Allie, I would be delighted to enlighten you. First I plan to remove the remainder of your clothing." Reaching out, he slid her chemise slowly down her arms, until it fell to her feet, leaving her in just her stockings and garters.

"You are exquisite," he murmured, taking in all of her, every delectable curve from her head to her toes. He then filled his hands with her full breasts, her taut nipples pressing into his palms.

A long sigh escaped Allie, and pinpricks of pleasure raced over her sensitive skin. Her eyes slid shut, and she gave herself over totally to the sensation of his hands on her body, arousing her nipples, then gliding down to caress her buttocks while his lips and tongue laved her breasts. She ran her fingers through his silky hair, thrusting her breasts higher, urging him to take more of her into the wet heaven of his mouth. Desire curled through her, dampening her flesh, pooling an aching, heavy heat between her thighs that demanded his touch. Impatience scraped at her. She wanted, needed, more. Now.

"What do you intend to do next?" she said in a raspy voice she did not even recognize as her own.

He lifted his head from her breast, and the inferno blazing in his eyes stalled her breath. Rising to his full height, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pressed her down. With her knees already as limp as overcooked noodles, she sank to sit upon the mattress. He then gently urged her back until she was fully reclined from knee to head, her feet dangling off the side of the mattress. Insinuating himself between her knees, he loomed over her, resting his wide palms on the ivory counterpane on either side of her shoulders.

"Next," he said, his warm breath beating against her face, "I intend to find out if you taste like honeysuckle everywhere."

Oh, my. He leaned down and teased her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. She tried to capture his mouth in a kiss, but he moved his lips away, across her jaw, then down her neck. She ruffled her fingers through his hair, then raised her arms over her head, and simply gave herself over completely to the magic his hands and mouth wrought so expertly upon her.

For a man who'd claimed the inability to go slow, his exploration of her body was an agony of prolonged pleasure. His fingers and lips glided sinuously over her skin with a devastating combination of feathery caresses and velvety, wet heat. He suckled her breasts until she writhed beneath him, aching for him to fill her, and put out this relentless fire he'd stoked.

Still, his journey continued with a leisure that brought her to the brink of desperation. His tongue dampened a trail down her abdomen, then dipped into her navel. Feeling him shift lower, she forced her eyes open and propped herself up on her elbows. He knelt on the floor, his fingers playing with the curls between her thighs. His broad shoulders were bare, indicating he'd shed his robe. Their eyes met, and her pulse jumped at his intense expression.

"Spread your legs for me, Allie."

Her gaze locked with his, she obeyed, splaying her thighs wide, her heart pounding in anticipation. He slipped his hands beneath her, cupping her buttocks, then slowly slid her toward him, lifting her.

The first intimate sweep of his tongue over her female flesh brought a cry to her throat she could not contain. Her arms collapsed beneath her, and she lay back, caught in a maelstrom of intense sensation as he worshipped her with his mouth and tongue, licking, kissing, teasing her, building the pressure until a long, raw moan ripped from her throat. Looking for an anchor, she fisted her hands into the counterpane as wave after wave of release rushed through her.

It seemed her shattering, deep, inner contractions had barely subsided, when, in a limp daze, she felt him move, lifting her body to settle her on the center of the mattress. Before she could so much as draw a breath, he slid into her in one breathtaking stroke.

"Look at me," he whispered.

She somehow managed to pry open her heavy lids. His expression was harsh with need, his eyes appearing nearly black with arousal.

"Allie," he whispered. And then he kissed her, deeply, his tongue mating with hers. The scent and taste of her own female musk, mingled with his unique masculine flavor, inundated her senses, and the magic started all over again. Wrapping her legs around his waist, gripping his shoulders, she met his increasingly urgent thrusts. His lips slid away from hers, and he buried his face in her neck.

"Now," he whispered, the word ending on a groan. "Come with me. Now."

Her orgasm pulsed through her, wringing a cry of pleasure from her. He thrust into her one final time, clasping her tightly against his damp chest as he found his own release. Then, before her heart had even started to slow down, he rolled them onto their sides. Still intimately joined, she snuggled her heated face against his chest, reveling in the sound and feel of his frantic heartbeat tapping against her cheek.

When her breathing finally regulated, she whooshed out a long sigh of utter contentment, then leaned back to look at him. He'd been so still, she'd thought he'd perhaps dozed off. But she found herself looking into dark blue eyes. Very serious dark blue eyes. Much too serious eyes.

She instantly sensed the need to lighten the mood, for feelings and emotions she was not prepared to cope with were unmistakable in his gaze. But before she could utter a word, he cupped her cheek in his hand and said the words she feared most. The words that would end their relationship.

"I love you, Allie."