In the Lord's Embrace (3 page)

“Maeve
…
are
we…”

“Don’t speak, August
,”
she begged, her hand
cup
ping his
cheek and soften
ing his
inquisitive expression. “Just, kiss me.
Again.
And then, again.
”

Lord Grayson
was all too happy to
oblige
. Pulling her
body to his
, he
poured the desire of every wanton moment, of every unfilled
sens
e of unfulfilled longing into their
kiss.
His
greatest hope was only to be met in kind, but instead
, Maeve’s reaction
was twofol
d. She practically crawled up his body. He
felt
her leg attempt to hitch over his hip, and his
arm ho
oked under her knee to help
in her ai
m. Already, the burgeoning of his
desire for her
was more than noticeable as she pressed against him and
gasp
ed
when
the hardness pressed against her.

“August!”

He
only smirked in return.

“It has been too long since I’ve been inside you, Maeve
.”

August
leaned over and whispered it into her ear, as t
hough teasing her with a fact. He
let her leg fall to the
ground, and in one fell swoop, bent over, threw his
arm behind her knees, and
took her up into his arms. Maeve
weaved her hands behind his neck for support as he walked her back to their
bedroom.

August
could feel her bod
y tremble with anticipation as he tenderly placed her on
the quilt.

“These arms, Maeve
, have missed holding you.”

He
slid them out from under her and
began unbuttoning
the little ivory discs on her blouse, kissing every inch o
f flesh as it was revealed
.

“These lips,” August
hummed
against her breast, “have been without purpose not being able to kiss
you.”

The blouse part
ed to either side, revealing Maeve
’s still youthful frame covered over in a single
layer of cotton undergarments. August
did so love America, if for no other reason than the simplicity of its women’s lingerie.

He
sat on
the edge of the bed, pulling his own shirt over his
head and letting it
fall somewhere on the floor. Maeve
in the meantime pitched herself up on her elbows as she manipulated the blouse down her arms before wadding it a ball and throwing it across
the room. Her eyes focused on August’s muscled, bare chest. He
heard her breath catch in her throat.

Leaning over, August placed his
arms on either side of her
s, slowly covering
her
body
as he brought himself down on her
.

“These eyes…” He
pulled a lingering kiss from her lips. “These eyes have missed seeing you gasp in pleasure and
and
my ears long to hear you
scream my name while you writhe beneath me.”

That made her moan, and the earthy yet feminine timbre
of her siren’s call beckoned him further. He shifted his
hips, once agai
n letting her feel just how much he long and
elonged
for her
.

“And this body.”
Again, he
pushed
his erection against her. Maeve’s
legs still covered in the material of skirt
, spread to align their centers. Her
face
, arms, chest…
everything
flushed
over in her
inflamed state, her breath
sh
allow and racing. “This body has
missed the feel of your wetness and your heat pulsing ag
ainst it and wrapping around it.
”

“Holy hell, August
.
We have en
tirely too many clothes on.
”

Indeed
. The flush of her skin had spread down further, and even
through the cotton undershirt August could see red
burning
.

S
he was growing impatient. After so long, he couldn’t hold it against her. B
ut he refused to rush. Too long had he dreamed, yearned, hungered
for her to show her any less attention than paying homage to each spot of flesh, each
hue of color his
body would paint over
the canvas of her pleasure as he made love to his Maeve… his
wife,
for the firs
t time since fate had brought them back to the
other.

Sitt
ing back on the balls of his feet, August hooked his
fingers under her skirt and pulled it down over her hips and past her ankles, adding to the pile of di
scarded garments on the floor. He reached out his
hands to her and pu
lled her to a sitting position. S
he t
ook the hint of his
intent and pulled her undershirt over her head of her
own
volition.

This time, it was August’s breath that hitched as his
eyes took in the sight of he
r breast, milky white and speckled
with the heat of her arousal. H
er nipples were hard, begging for attention. Before August could fully grasp his
own actions,
however, Maeve
was
pushe
d flat against the mattress as he fell atop her, his
lips suck
ing at the right nipple while his
hand cupped the other, roll
ing the hardened peak between his finger and
thumb
, pulling, teasing
.

Fearing that he may have forsaken his gentlemanly intentions, August was relieved when he felt Maeve’s hands run through his hair, pulling him
down hard
er
on her peak. She was positivel
y unhinged now;
little gasps mix
ed with girlish moans as he
suckled her,
pulling as much of her into his mouth as his thought possible. Pulling away, August
trailed wet kisses as the oral
manifestation
of his
love mirrored its evidence on the opposite side
, his
other hand rising to rub the moistened, pebbled perk.

S
uddenly
, August realized that his
hips were
thrusting against her leg, seeking friction thro
ugh the thick cotton weave of his slacks. Maeve must have come to understand his
need as well,
as she pulled out from under him
and co
axed him unto his
back.

“August
,” she breathed as a devilish grin came over her face, “these hands have missed pulling the clothes of
f you, piece by piece
.”

Help me heavens, she’s
re
flecting my own words back
,
he thought. August felt him
self harden further at her game.
This time
, it was Maeve
who hooked
her fingers under the hem of
his
pa
nts and pulled them down past his
hips.
He
spr
ang free of the garment’s
entrapment as Maeve
’s
hungry
eyes narrowed with determination.

“My tongue…” she began, and he felt his
insides tighten in anticipation.
Oh, sweet mother of mercy, please.
“…has missed feeling the tip of
your
…”

She paused, confused. Maeve
had rarely engaged in such
free-spirited talk before, but oh, how he longed to hear her give
further
into the temptation.
Yet,
August
could tell she was finding it difficult to select a word she felt comfortable saying.

“My
staff,
Maeve
, if that suits you.”

Impishly, she nodded, lo
we
ring her lips to his tip
an
d speaking, her mouth so close he
could feel the
vibration of her voice tease his
erection.

“Yes, it has missed your…
staff
,” she repeated before her tongue darted out and swirled around tauntingly.

It ser
ved only as an enticement, but August
was not long denied as moments later
,
her lips closed around his erection
, taking him in her mouth
completely
. Working over his whole length in steady
lappings
, he felt the swirl of
a climax too long denied quickly building.

“Maeve…” August moaned. “I’m going to… Oh, May
… I want to be…
Ungh
… inside you.
Please…”

Her eyes turned up, though her mouth and her movements paused otherwise. Slowly, she withdrew, her tongue dragging along the hardness before gently flicking over the tip once more.

One piece of c
lothing remained as barrier; Maeve
’s white-cotton pantaloons
bore the burden of August’s unleashed lust as he
sat up and tore at the thin fabric, rendering it in shreds about the quilted bed cover in
seconds. Bared to him, August could gather from Maeve’s
heaving breaths that made he
r breast rise and fall before his
eyes likes some magician’s trance-inducing trinket that
her desire to be saddled upon him was as strong as his
need to be sheathed inside her.

He
backed
against
the
headboard, beckoning forward his love, his bride, his
…

“
A
s
tor
mo
chroi
….”

Maeve
stopped shor
t, her arms on either side of him
, her ce
nter poised precariously over his
yearning cock.

“What did you say?” she asked in disbelieving tones.

“
A
stor
mo
chroi
?”
August
repeated, this time
as
a question. “I think I said it right. Do you know it?”

She nearly laughed.
“
Of course, August
.
It means ‘
my treasured one.’ It’s not the phrase
that took me by surprise
. It’s that…” She licked her lips as a playful smile overtook her. “You soun
ded so … Irish. Say more, August, please!
Gaeilge
a
labhairt
le mo
.”

At h
er request to speak Irish
, she positioned
her wet, waiting center over him and sank
own
slowly
upon him
.
She wanted him to speak Irish, when he could barely utter even a word in his own tongue, so enraptured was he with the feel of her around him?