Awakened by a Kiss (12 page)

She laughed. “Are you now?” The cheeky devil oozed charm.

“I am,” he assured. “However, I am happy to provide nourishment first.” He nodded toward the picnic basket.

“That’s excellent. I’m starved . . .
for you
.” She caressed the side of his face.

Hunger flickered in his eyes. He leaned in for a kiss, sliding his tongue past her lips. Waves of pleasure flooded her body at his possession. His kiss was heated, yet unhurried and tender, resonating inside her heart.

Raindrops hit her shoulders, despite the leafy canopy overhead. She didn’t care, refusing to break contact with his mouth. She wanted more. Of him. How was she going to live without him again? He made her long for the things she used to dream about. Romantic notions of loving and being loved.

The sky rumbled. More raindrops struck her heated skin.

Adrien broke the kiss and swore at the inclement weather brewing in the clouds, its quick turn for the worse dampening their plans.

She reached for the ties on his breeches. “We’ll not allow anything to ruin our picnic.” She repeated his words.

He frowned. “It’s raining,
ma belle
.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She pulled his shirt out from his opened breeches. “Take this off.”

He gave her one of his heart-fluttering smiles and removed his shirt, tossing it onto the blanket. His thick, hard cock strained out of his breeches.

A steady drizzle now fell from the sky. She watched with heated fascination as water droplets hit his chest and rolled down his skin, dripped off his stiff sex.

Desire swamped her senses. She had to touch him. Curling her fingers around his shaft, she stroked him, moving her hand languidly up and down his length.

He groaned. His mouth was on hers in an instant, his skilled fingers pulling and loosening and opening the front of her gown, exposing her to her waist.

Cool rain against her warm breasts was startling. Exhilarating. His hot mouth latched on to her breast. He sucked greedily. Each tantalizing pull dragged a moan up her throat and made her sex wetter. She arched to him, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. He turned to her other breast and feasted on it with equal finesse. Suckling. Laving. Gently biting. Her legs almost gave way.

The moment his mouth returned to hers, she kissed him voraciously, trailing her mouth along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. His wet skin was delicious. But it wasn’t enough. After a night of oral pleasures—not to mention the morning, too—she had to taste him again, hungry to have him in her mouth. Only two days left to create memories she’d cherish for a lifetime. Then he’d be gone for good. She pushed back the sadness and regret and lowered herself to her knees.

His eyes narrowed, knowing exactly what she was about. She looked up at him, rain on her face. His dark hair wet, he fixed his green eyes on her. Holding his gaze, she gripped the base of his erection and brushed her lips across the sensitive tip. His breath hitched. Reveling in his heated response, she swirled her tongue around the head of his penis.

“Catherine,” he rasped, his fingers gripping her head.

Impatient, she plunged him deep into her mouth. A throaty growl erupted out of him, his hips jerking slightly.

“Dieu
. . .
”
Adrien had to close his eyes, his head falling back. If the feel of her sucking his cock weren’t enough, the sight of her submissively on her knees pleasuring him was too much. “I love your mouth,” he groaned. It took everything he had not to grab her hair and thrust like a madman. Instead, he let her dictate the pace.

His ragged breaths mingled with the sounds of rain. The cool raindrops teeming over his bare chest and arms were a magnificent contrast to the heat of her mouth. She drew him in and dragged him out, tender, yet ravenous—so uniquely Catherine. She had him on fire, as always.

Every fiber of his being was acutely aware not only of the sensations inundating him, but of the very woman inspiring them. He was going to come. Hard. Soon. But not this way. Not this time.

Opening his eyes, their gazes locked. She slid him out of her mouth and licked off the dab of pre-come that dripped from his tip. Strands of her auburn hair were plastered to her shoulders and wet creamy breasts. Gently removing her hand from his cock, Adrien lowered himself to his knees, the blanket wet, and cupped her face.

She furrowed her delicate brow. “Have I done something incorrectly?”

“No, you were perfect.” She was, in every way that mattered. Everything a man could want and more.

And he wanted her—too much.

Threading his fingers through her wet hair, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip before giving her a long, languorous kiss. A shiver of delight quivered through her.

“I want to make love to you.” He sat down on the blanket, not caring that it was soaked. “Come here.” His voice was rough with need.

The sweetest smile graced her lips.

A few easy movements and his auburn beauty was straddling him. She slipped her arms around him. Her breaths were sharp and shallow, much like his own. A surge of emotions he couldn’t quell crested over him.

Jésus-Christ
, he simply had to break this infatuation. What if he couldn’t? What if years from now he still felt this constricting ache in his chest?

Adrien shoved away the doubts, and her gown, bunching the material around her waist. He then gripped her hips, intent on refocusing on the carnal pleasures at hand.

“I am all yours,” she said softly, placing her hands on his wet shoulders.

Her words unbalanced him.

She was
not
all his, he quickly reminded himself. Even if he wished it at the moment. In time the feeling would pass. He wasn’t going to do anything to hold on to her or deviate from old patterns and familiar ways.

She rose up and brought her slick opening down onto the head of his cock, the enticing heat beckoning and beguiling. Her pink nipples, at mouth level, dripped with raindrops.

Adrien leaned in and licked the water droplets off each sensitive tip.

She moaned and then suddenly bore down onto his erection. Clutching her hips, he halted her descent. “Too fast. Take it slowly.” Adrien eased her onto his cock, her moist heat engulfed him an inch at a time.

She squirmed, frustrated by his slow progress.

“Don’t fight me. Just enjoy it.” He was going to squeeze out every ounce of pleasure he could from the encounters they had left, hoping it would be enough to silence the maddening turmoil whirling inside him.

The head of his shaft butted against her womb. He gasped. She whimpered.

Buried to the hilt, his cock throbbed inside her snug sheath. She encircled him with her legs. Adrien closed his eyes and held her still. Enveloped by her, he basked in the moment.

Endearingly impatient, it wasn’t long before she was rocking her hips, fanning the fire, making his heart pound. She clenched her inner muscles around his cock. A groan shot up his throat.

Kissing his face, mouth, neck, she told him how much she wanted him, needed him, needed what he could give her. Adrien’s control snapped. In an instant, he had her on her back, giving her deep, steady strokes, using his body to shield her from the rain. Holding her gaze, he increased the tempo and force of his thrusts with each downward plunge.

Desire shone in her golden eyes. Yearning was etched on her lovely face.

“You’re so very beautiful,” he murmured.

Her hands moved tenderly down his back, despite her fervent state. “So are you.”

Her artlessness during sex was adorable.

The tension coiling tighter and tighter, they were racing toward a shattering release. Shaking with effort, he held his back, the need to let go and discharge his aching cock immense.

She sucked in a sharp breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and arched hard against him. “Adrien,” she cried. He braced himself. Her orgasm shuddered through her, tearing a scream from her throat.

Fisting the blanket on either side of her head, Adrien thrust fiercely, glorious spasms rippling along his length. His climax triggered, his release shot down his cock with such volatile force, he barely pulled out in time. Collapsing on top of her, he pressed his forehead to hers and groaned long and hard as he drained his prick onto the blanket with mind-melting intensity.

Spent, trembling, they held each other, the rain drizzling onto his back, their breathing slowly calming.

This
was bliss. How fortunate was he to be given this taste of Heaven.

Another roll of thunder sounded in the sky.

Catherine and Adrien stopped outside the servants’ entrance to the château. Catherine sighed as he gave her a deep, stirring kiss. They were drenched, their clothing ruined, and neither of them cared. They’d walked back in the heavy rain, hand in hand, occasionally stopping for kisses and caresses.

“I’m sorry our picnic was spoiled,” he murmured. “The food was ruined.”

“I don’t think the picnic was spoiled at all. I enjoyed every moment.”

A smile formed on his lips. “So did I.”

She cocked her head to one side. “I’m sure the rain has nothing to do with the fact that you’re cursed,” she teased.

His brows shot up. “Don’t tell me you’ve heard about that. What version of that foolish tale was recounted? The one with magical fairies at my christening?”

She laughed. “I missed that version.”

“There is no curse,” he assured. “I don’t get along with my father. Plain and simple. He doesn’t approve of the way I live my life. He thinks me too reckless.”

“And are you?”

He brushed his mouth against hers. “I’m just reckless enough.” He kissed her again, a slow, inflaming kiss that warmed her blood, heating her from the inside out.

Thunder boomed. She jumped.

Adrien looked up at the sky, rain drizzling on his face. “We’d best get inside.” He took her hand. “There will be more of the same on your dry bed,” he wickedly promised.

The moment they stepped into the kitchens, Odette swooped in on them. “Madame!” Concern etched on her face, she wrung her hands.

Catherine tensed. “What is it, Odette?”

The older woman looked around to ensure none of the servants in the kitchen were listening.

“It’s the Comte de Baillet,” she whispered. “He’s here.”

Her words hit Catherine like a blow to the belly.

“He’s arrived?
Early?
” Adrien asked the questions she couldn’t force up her throat.

“Yes, monsieur. Early.” Odette looked at Catherine. “He’s asking for you. He’s eager to see you.”

Adrien tightened his hold of Catherine’s hand. “It’s too soon. He’s not supposed to be here now,” he growled.

Tears burned in her eyes. Catherine turned to him, overcome by a sense of cold grief and sadness. “I know,” she managed to say without collapsing into complete discomposure. Their time together was over. She’d have to leave. Every fiber in her being screamed “no!”

“Madame, we must get you upstairs, bathed, and changed into some dry clothes. I told Monsieur le Comte that you were taking a nap. He’ll expect you up soon.”

Catherine gazed at Adrien’s cherished face, a lump welling in her throat.

He cupped her cheek. “I’ll see you later,” he stated firmly and kissed her trembling mouth.

“Come, madame.” Odette pulled at her hand. “You must hurry.”

Her chest tight, her heart constricted, she let Odette lead her away.

Time was up. There’d be no later.

In the
Salle de Buffet
, flanked by his uncles, Adrien held his goblet in a white-knuckle grip. He hadn’t touched any of his meal. At the opposite end of the long table Catherine sat with Baillet and Suzanne. The dimwitted Madame de Noisette and Madame de Bussy were nearby, enraptured by Baillet’s tales of his recent visit to Versailles.

Adrien was drowning in emotions he’d forbidden himself to feel. Choking on his own misery.