The Wedding Challenge (27 page)

He seized her lips in a fierce kiss, his mouth devouring hers as she made her tentative sensual exploration, and he caressed her breasts, gently squeezing and stroking. Desire sparked through her, jumping and twisting with each movement of his hands.

Suddenly, as though he could wait no longer, Brom released her, moving back a little and reaching down to unbutton his breeches and sweep them down his body. Callie barely had time to react before he was untying her chemise and petticoats, pulling them from her and throwing them toward a chair.

He went down on one knee, startling her, and she realized that he was untying her boots. He lifted her foot to pull one off, and she put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. He looked up at her as he raised the other foot and pulled the boot from it, and his eyes were intense and bright with promise. Callie suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Brom slid his hand up under the lace-trimmed leg of her pantalet, following the curve of her calf and moving up onto her thigh. He hooked his fingers into her garter and slowly drew it, and her stocking, down, his hands gliding over her now-bare flesh with infinite slowness. Callie swallowed hard; her skin tingled under his touch, and her legs felt unaccountably weak, as if they might give way beneath her at any moment. With the same care, he removed her other stocking.

Then he rose to his feet, his hands sliding up her legs and over her pantalets until he reached the waistband. Slowly, his eyes holding hers, he tugged at the ribbon, untying the bow. His hands slid under the loosened waistband, shoving the thin cotton garment out of the way as his hands smoothed down over the lush curve of her hips. The pantalets fell the rest of the way to the floor, and she stood before him completely naked at last.

His eyes roamed down over her body, his face slackening with hunger. Callie thought she should have felt embarrassed to have him look at her like this—and perhaps she was, a little—but to her surprise, his gaze stirred her as though it was his fingers that roamed over her flesh. She could feel the moisture gathering between her legs, the tender flesh throbbing.

“You are so beautiful,” he said hoarsely, and he bent to pick her up in his arms and carry her the last few steps to the bed.

He laid her down upon the mattress and stretched out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand went to her chest, spreading his fingers on the flat plane of her rib cage, then traveling, curving over her breasts, then onto her stomach, caressing her abdomen, her hips, and at last moving down the side of her leg. His fingers slipped then between her legs, separating them, and slid down the inside of her thigh. Slowly, his hand began to retrace its path upward.

Callie’s breath came short and fast as his fingers trailed higher, teasing the tender inner skin of her thighs, moving ever closer to his goal. Then, at last, he reached the center of her femininity, the lush secret folds that guarded her. Heat poured through her as he touched her there, gently separating and exploring that most intimate place.

She bit her lip, so sudden and sharp was the exquisite pleasure, and arched against his hand. She had never dreamed that anything could feel quite like this, that her body could surge and melt at the merest touch of his finger.

Callie groaned and moved beneath his hand, and he smiled down at her, his face heavy with sensual triumph. He bent and touched his lips to her breast, and she gasped at this new sensation. His lips moved across the soft white flesh, kissing and nibbling gently, teasing with the tip of his tongue, until he came to the hard button of her nipple. There he stopped and concentrated his attention, circling and teasing, until finally his mouth came down upon it and he began to suckle her in long, luxurious strokes.

A shudder shook her body at the combined pleasures of his mouth and fingers. Callie felt as if every part of her was on fire, and the molten center of that flame lay deep in her abdomen, where she pulsed and burned with a desperate need. She writhed beneath his ministrations, digging in with her heels and clutching at the coverlet beneath her.

“Please, please,” she begged, feeling as if she must die, must explode.

He moved over her, and she opened her legs to receive him. He slid his hands beneath her hips, tilting her up, and she felt the tip of him probing at the tender intimate flesh. She arched up gladly to meet him, and he slid into her slowly, carefully, his body taut with the strain of holding back.

She had heard that there was always pain the first time, but she felt none, only a wonderful fulfillment as the full length of him slid inside her, stretching and filling her. Callie let out a low cry of pleasure, calling his name, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, as he began to thrust in and out. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, moving in time with his long, sure strokes.

His breath was harsh and ragged in her ear, and his searing heat enveloped her. Callie felt herself surrounded by him, immersed in him, and she reveled in the sensation. Tension was building deep in her abdomen, growing with each movement he made, knotting and re-knotting ever tighter, until at last it exploded in a glorious burst of pleasure so intense that she cried out.

Brom shuddered and groaned, pumping into her wildly as he hurtled to his own peak with her, and together they collapsed, spent and exhausted and utterly replete. Brom murmured her name as he rolled from her, his arms still wrapped around her; then he reached out with one arm and grabbed the coverlet, pulling it over and around them like a cocoon. And together they drifted into sleep.

C
ALLIE CAME SLOWLY AWAKE
, aware first that it was very hot and, secondly, that something very heavy was weighing her down. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself gazing at a large expanse of firm flesh, with hair prickling her nose. She blinked, and in another moment she was fully awake. The heat came from Brom’s large body, which she lay against, her cheek on his chest. And the heavy weight was his arm thrown across her.

Memories of the night before came flooding back in on her, and she smiled to herself. A woman of greater virtue, she thought, would doubtless have been embarrassed, even ashamed. She, however, was bursting with happiness; there was no room in her for any other feeling.

Despite the heat, she lay there for a moment longer, luxuriating in the new feeling of her body, alive with the imprint of last night’s pleasures and pleasantly sore.

Finally she eased out of bed, letting the coverlet fall back over Brom’s body. She glanced about the room ruefully. Their clothes were scattered all over. Remembering the few faint ripping sounds as they undressed, she suspected that her garments might not be in wearable condition anymore. It was a good thing that she had brought several additional frocks in her bag.

The fire had died to ashes, but she scarcely noticed the cold as she made her way over to the window. The room was still dim, but the light that came in through the slit in the draperies made her think that it was already long past sunrise. She pulled aside a corner of the thick drape and looked out. It was indeed morning; the landscape was washed with sunshine. She let the curtain fall and turned back to the room.

Her dress lay in a heap in front of a chair; her petticoats were tossed over the foot of the bed; her boots were several feet apart. And her chemise was a crumpled little ball near the door. She made her way around the room, picking up her clothes.

As she turned back toward the bed, she saw Bromwell, braced on one elbow, watching her. She gasped, dropping the garments in her surprise.

He smiled. “Ah, now that is much better. Those clothes were hiding far too much.”

“What are you doing?” she scolded. “You scared me!”

“Watching you,” he replied.

“Why did you not speak? I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I know. That made it all the more enjoyable,” he replied, grinning unrepentantly.

She bent down to retrieve her clothes, holding them in front of her, her cheeks high with color.

“Nay. Do not hide yourself,” he said. “I like to look at you.”

Callie smiled a little, feeling strangely shy and yet excited, too, the now-familiar warmth stealing through her loins. “’Tis scarcely fair, as you are modestly covered.”

That was not quite true, as the cover had slid down to his waist, and she could see the full expanse of his chest and arms, which, she would be the first to admit, was a very nice sight.

Brom grinned and reached down to flip the covers aside. “There. You may look as much as I.”

Her cheeks flushed as her eyes of their own volition ran down his body, taking in the tanned, firm flesh, the smooth curve of muscle, as well as the unmistakable sign that he was already aroused.

“Oh!” she said, her eyes widening and her blush deepening. But she found that the sight of his thickening staff deepened the heat that was already alive in her.

“Yes,” he admitted, grinning. “I am a slave to you.”

“A slave to your own base desires, I should say,” she told him saucily, but she dropped the garments and strolled over to the bed, her faint embarrassment overridden by the tingle of pleasure that went through her as his eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, roamed her body.

“Only where you are concerned,” he assured her, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her the last few inches to the bed.

He turned to sit on the edge of the mattress, bracing his heels, and put his hands on her hips, pulling her up against him. Callie smiled into his eyes and put her hands on his shoulders, moving them slowly down and back up, then lower over his chest. She could feel his arousal pushing against her abdomen, and it made her smile wickedly.

“You enjoy that, don’t you?” he growled, nuzzling into her neck. “The thought of making me suffer.”

“No,” she disputed, trailing her fingernails lightly down his chest. “’Tis the thought of ending your suffering that makes me smile.”

He laughed, his breath hot on her neck, and nipped lightly at the taut cord. “
That,
my lady, you are welcome to do.”

With those words, his arms went around her and he pulled her back onto the bed with him, rolling over quickly so that she was beneath him. Pulling her arms above her head, he anchored them with one hand and proceeded to kiss his way down her body. His lips lingered over her skin, taking his time as he explored her. She writhed, tugging at her hands, but he continued to hold them trapped beneath his.

“Nay, not yet,” he murmured. “First it is my turn to pleasure you. Then you may have your way.”

He made slow, sweet love to her with his mouth and hands, bringing her closer and closer to that wild, delicious burst of passion that she had experienced the night before. But each time, as she drew near, trembling and eager, he retreated, only to bring her to the heights again.

As his mouth loved her breasts, his fingers sought out the hot, throbbing center of her desire, gliding over the slick folds and smoothing over the tiny nub deep within them. She arched up against him, almost sobbing in her need. At last his fingers tightened on her, rhythmically stroking, until she tensed all over and a high, small cry issued from her mouth as pleasure washed through her in deep waves.

Callie lay, looking up at Brom through dark, slumbrous eyes. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, then moved between her legs.

“Oh, no,” Callie said huskily, smiling up at him. She braced her hands on his chest and pushed him over onto his back.

He went easily, grinning up at her. “What? That is enough for you? You want to stop?”

“No, not stop. Postpone. It is my turn now, remember? You said that I could have my way with you next.”

His grin broadened. “So I did. Tell me, my lady, what do you have planned?”

“I think that I shall make it up as I go along,” Callie retorted. “I am just learning, you remember.”

He linked his hands behind his head, assuming a relaxed pose, despite the unmistakable evidence of his desire springing up between his legs. “Feel free to improvise, then.”

Callie moved over him, straddling him, and his eyes darkened with desire. She slid her hands across his chest, exploring his thoroughly masculine body. Her hands were firm upon him, finding the different textures of hard bone and springing muscle, smooth skin and wiry hair. Her fingers glided over his flat nipples, teasing them to hard life; then she bent and applied her mouth to them as he had done to her, lashing and stroking and circling until they were engorged and hard as pebbles, their color a deep, dark rose.

She sat up, shifting her body a little on his, and a low moan escaped him at her movement. Callie smiled sensually and moved again, feeling him stir and throb against her. She rubbed her body over him, exciting herself as much as him as flesh slipped over flesh, the wiry hair on his chest delicately abrading her supremely sensitive nipples.

His hands went to her hips to move her down onto his swollen shaft, but Callie smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no, not yet. I have not had my way nearly enough. Why, I haven’t even kissed you.”

She went down on all fours above him, moving up a little until her face was over his. She gazed down at him. His skin was stretched taut over his facial bones, his mouth full and sensual, and his eyes blazed with feverish light. He had long since given up his casual pose with his hands locked behind his head. They now gripped the cover beneath him, tightly holding on to his control.