only sound in the room was that of Macrath’s quickened breath, the beat of her heart and the slide of fabric as she pulled it from her shoulder. She untied the braided belt at her hips and draped it over her chair. With every move, her husband’s eyes grew darker. He sat back, legs spread out before him, one arm slung over the rear of his chair as he watched her, awareness pouring off him in waves. The way he looked at her made her tingle all over. Gave her the confidence she needed to keep going. Her gown was next. She turned around.
Her gaze met with the shuttered window, the soft-looking bed. She closed her eyes, blew out the breath she’d not realized she’d been holding. “Will you unlace me?”
Macrath cleared his throat. Wood scraped as he pushed away from his chair and then she felt his warm hands at her back. He caressed down her spine, fingertips slipping into the lacings of her gown. He tugged at the ties, slowly pulling them free. Done untying, he still didn’t move away. He leaned closer, his breath on her neck, tickling, and then his lips, and she sighed, letting him kiss her. But when she felt her sex squeeze tight with anticipation, she drew away.
“Not yet,” she murmured. “Sit down.”
Macrath didn’t ask questions, but listened.
Ceana slipped the fabric off one shoulder, keeping her eyes on her husband. Watching. His lids had lowered halfway, his lips parted. She wanted to lean forward, to kiss him. To feel his tongue slide between her lips, over her breasts, between her thighs. But they had to wait. They had all night, and she wanted to make it special, memorable, because who knew what unimaginable horrors awaited them on the morrow? She wasn’t going to waste this time alone in a hurried coupling. They would worship each other tonight.
One arm free, she slithered the fabric off the next one, the top of her gown pooling around her hips. Her nipples were hard, pushing against the light fabric of her chemise. In the light of the fire, she could see the dusky-red color through the sheer white material. As always she was captivated by the way her body reacted to Macrath. ’Twas as if her flesh and bones knew what she wanted before her mind had made itself up.
Macrath let out a harsh exhale. “Gods, but you are tempting.”
Ceana flicked her gaze back to him, grinned, her body tightening, gooseflesh rising on her skin as he regarded her hungrily. She’d not yet divested herself of her clothing and already he was completely enticed by her. She liked that. A lot.
“Just wait until you find out how much I intend to tempt you.” This time, she did lean forward and press her lips to his, needing to feel their soft, yet firm, touch.
He stretched toward her, his fingers dancing over her elbow, up to her shoulder and over her neck, but Ceana retreated just out of his reach.
“Not yet,” she repeated. It was hard to stay away from him.
She wanted so badly to touch him, to let him touch her. To deepen that little taunt of a kiss. But if she did, then her seduction would be over, for she knew in her heart she’d not ask him to stop.
She hooked her thumbs in her gown and pushed it past her hips, stepping out of the pile. Again, Macrath sucked in a ragged breath.
He’d seen her nude before. Had been inside her body. And yet, she felt almost as if she were standing before him for the first time. The previous occasions they’d made love had not been as intimate. Beautiful, wondrous, pleasurable, aye. But they’d lacked the sense of privacy and leisure they had now.
A shiver took her, but she wasn’t cold. She wasn’t afraid. It was a shiver of pleasure, her body anticipating just what was to come.
Her fingers trembled slightly when she tugged the lace at her throat. Once untied, the fabric of her chemise fell open, exposing the swells of her breasts to Macrath. His eyes widened and he shifted in his chair. His hands gripped tight to the wooden arms, knuckles white. She could tell he
Her gaze met with the shuttered window, the soft-looking bed. She closed her eyes, blew out the breath she’d not realized she’d been holding. “Will you unlace me?”
Macrath cleared his throat. Wood scraped as he pushed away from his chair and then she felt his warm hands at her back. He caressed down her spine, fingertips slipping into the lacings of her gown. He tugged at the ties, slowly pulling them free. Done untying, he still didn’t move away. He leaned closer, his breath on her neck, tickling, and then his lips, and she sighed, letting him kiss her. But when she felt her sex squeeze tight with anticipation, she drew away.
“Not yet,” she murmured. “Sit down.”
Macrath didn’t ask questions, but listened.
Ceana slipped the fabric off one shoulder, keeping her eyes on her husband. Watching. His lids had lowered halfway, his lips parted. She wanted to lean forward, to kiss him. To feel his tongue slide between her lips, over her breasts, between her thighs. But they had to wait. They had all night, and she wanted to make it special, memorable, because who knew what unimaginable horrors awaited them on the morrow? She wasn’t going to waste this time alone in a hurried coupling. They would worship each other tonight.
One arm free, she slithered the fabric off the next one, the top of her gown pooling around her hips. Her nipples were hard, pushing against the light fabric of her chemise. In the light of the fire, she could see the dusky-red color through the sheer white material. As always she was captivated by the way her body reacted to Macrath. ’Twas as if her flesh and bones knew what she wanted before her mind had made itself up.
Macrath let out a harsh exhale. “Gods, but you are tempting.”
Ceana flicked her gaze back to him, grinned, her body tightening, gooseflesh rising on her skin as he regarded her hungrily. She’d not yet divested herself of her clothing and already he was completely enticed by her. She liked that. A lot.
“Just wait until you find out how much I intend to tempt you.” This time, she did lean forward and press her lips to his, needing to feel their soft, yet firm, touch.
He stretched toward her, his fingers dancing over her elbow, up to her shoulder and over her neck, but Ceana retreated just out of his reach.
“Not yet,” she repeated. It was hard to stay away from him.
She wanted so badly to touch him, to let him touch her. To deepen that little taunt of a kiss. But if she did, then her seduction would be over, for she knew in her heart she’d not ask him to stop.
She hooked her thumbs in her gown and pushed it past her hips, stepping out of the pile. Again, Macrath sucked in a ragged breath.
He’d seen her nude before. Had been inside her body. And yet, she felt almost as if she were standing before him for the first time. The previous occasions they’d made love had not been as intimate. Beautiful, wondrous, pleasurable, aye. But they’d lacked the sense of privacy and leisure they had now.
A shiver took her, but she wasn’t cold. She wasn’t afraid. It was a shiver of pleasure, her body anticipating just what was to come.
Her fingers trembled slightly when she tugged the lace at her throat. Once untied, the fabric of her chemise fell open, exposing the swells of her breasts to Macrath. His eyes widened and he shifted in his chair. His hands gripped tight to the wooden arms, knuckles white. She could tell he
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