arms.
It felt as if they were touching for the first time. Last night, when they had consummated their marriage, it had been in the dark, and they had said almost nothing to one another. Theo had been too shy, fascinated and frightened, all at the same time, and couldn’t think of a remark that didn’t sound witless.
His chest brushed her breasts and a shiver went down her body. She put her arms around his neck. “Were you really lusting for me? ” Theo marveled. “Right there in front of everyone. Really?”
“How could I not?” His hands slid to her slim hips and pulled her tight against him. “God, Theo, you were sitting there at every meal, and your breasts would peek out from the top of your gown, just begging to be touched. There was that time you spilled a glass of water down your bodice . . . do you remember?”
She shook her head. Her breath was ragged, and she couldn’t think clearly. Every time he nudged her or touched her, a swell of pleasure overtook her body.
“Your nipples turned into little acorns standing out against your gown,” he said, wrapping a hand around one of her breasts so they both looked down at his bronzed hand holding her. “All I could think was that they wanted this. ”
He pulled her backward onto the bed; she fell on top of him and he rolled. A second later his mouth was on her breast. Spiraling waves of pleasure swept through Theo’s legs.
Her head fell back and she arched against him, feeling her breast as if she saw it with his eyes, tasted it with his tongue, felt it with his fingers. She knew with absolute certainty that in his eyes and under his hands her breast was the perfect size, the perfect shape. A groan broke from his lips and he moved to her other breast, giving it the same worship, a devotion that bordered on frenzy.
“Oh,” Theo heard herself crying over and over. “Oh, James, oh, James . . .”
Her cries were inarticulate but sweet. James heard them like manna, like forgiveness. She did love him. She would forgive him. She was finding pleasure. For the first time since their betrothal, his heart was lightened by true joy.
“What do you want, Daisy?” he asked. “Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know,” she said, sobbing it. “But, James . . .”
“Yes?” He rolled his hips forward into the cradle of her legs. His breath caught in his throat and he did it again, slow and teasing, and all the time his fingers played first with one breast, then the other.
She was trembling, those intelligent eyes of hers dazed with longing, her elegant limbs askew. He would bet the fortune he didn’t have that all those milk-and-water misses she so envied would never look as delicious as she did right now. They couldn’t.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, truth echoing in every hoarse word. “Just look at you, Daisy. All satin skin and long limbs, and those gorgeous breasts like the apples Eve offered Adam.”
Her eyes widened. “Eve didn’t offer Adam her breasts, silly.”
James rose up, straddling her with a knee on either side of her hips. “Maybe she did. Maybe these are the apples of paradise. Breasts like yours, the perfect size, delicious, designed to drive a man mad.”
Her eyes were alight with laughter now, laughter and joy and desire all mixed together.
“I would like to see you with this expression every morning,” he said, leaning down to put a kiss on her lips. “Every night, and every afternoon.”
“I watched you these last few years, too,” she said, her hands caressing his shoulders. “You started growing up, and every time you came home for holidays you were taller, and taller, and you were hungry all the time.”
She had the sweetest little tuft of hair there. He would love to touch it. But Bella hadn’t allowed anything like that. “No dirty hands near my treasure,” she’d say, slapping him, though she had let him play with her breasts as much as he liked.
He hadn’t cared very much. It was
It felt as if they were touching for the first time. Last night, when they had consummated their marriage, it had been in the dark, and they had said almost nothing to one another. Theo had been too shy, fascinated and frightened, all at the same time, and couldn’t think of a remark that didn’t sound witless.
His chest brushed her breasts and a shiver went down her body. She put her arms around his neck. “Were you really lusting for me? ” Theo marveled. “Right there in front of everyone. Really?”
“How could I not?” His hands slid to her slim hips and pulled her tight against him. “God, Theo, you were sitting there at every meal, and your breasts would peek out from the top of your gown, just begging to be touched. There was that time you spilled a glass of water down your bodice . . . do you remember?”
She shook her head. Her breath was ragged, and she couldn’t think clearly. Every time he nudged her or touched her, a swell of pleasure overtook her body.
“Your nipples turned into little acorns standing out against your gown,” he said, wrapping a hand around one of her breasts so they both looked down at his bronzed hand holding her. “All I could think was that they wanted this. ”
He pulled her backward onto the bed; she fell on top of him and he rolled. A second later his mouth was on her breast. Spiraling waves of pleasure swept through Theo’s legs.
Her head fell back and she arched against him, feeling her breast as if she saw it with his eyes, tasted it with his tongue, felt it with his fingers. She knew with absolute certainty that in his eyes and under his hands her breast was the perfect size, the perfect shape. A groan broke from his lips and he moved to her other breast, giving it the same worship, a devotion that bordered on frenzy.
“Oh,” Theo heard herself crying over and over. “Oh, James, oh, James . . .”
Her cries were inarticulate but sweet. James heard them like manna, like forgiveness. She did love him. She would forgive him. She was finding pleasure. For the first time since their betrothal, his heart was lightened by true joy.
“What do you want, Daisy?” he asked. “Tell me what you want.”
“I don’t know,” she said, sobbing it. “But, James . . .”
“Yes?” He rolled his hips forward into the cradle of her legs. His breath caught in his throat and he did it again, slow and teasing, and all the time his fingers played first with one breast, then the other.
She was trembling, those intelligent eyes of hers dazed with longing, her elegant limbs askew. He would bet the fortune he didn’t have that all those milk-and-water misses she so envied would never look as delicious as she did right now. They couldn’t.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, truth echoing in every hoarse word. “Just look at you, Daisy. All satin skin and long limbs, and those gorgeous breasts like the apples Eve offered Adam.”
Her eyes widened. “Eve didn’t offer Adam her breasts, silly.”
James rose up, straddling her with a knee on either side of her hips. “Maybe she did. Maybe these are the apples of paradise. Breasts like yours, the perfect size, delicious, designed to drive a man mad.”
Her eyes were alight with laughter now, laughter and joy and desire all mixed together.
“I would like to see you with this expression every morning,” he said, leaning down to put a kiss on her lips. “Every night, and every afternoon.”
“I watched you these last few years, too,” she said, her hands caressing his shoulders. “You started growing up, and every time you came home for holidays you were taller, and taller, and you were hungry all the time.”
She had the sweetest little tuft of hair there. He would love to touch it. But Bella hadn’t allowed anything like that. “No dirty hands near my treasure,” she’d say, slapping him, though she had let him play with her breasts as much as he liked.
He hadn’t cared very much. It was
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