A VERY TUDOR CHRISTMAS by Amanda Mccabe Read Free Book Online Page B

hoarsely, “I fear
this will be over before it begins.”
    Meg laughed, and suddenly everything was wonderfully real. He
pulled out of her arms and stood to hastily divest himself of the rest of his
clothes. Soon he stood before her splendidly naked, his bare skin turned golden
by the candlelight.
    “I—I feel rather overdressed now, I fear,” she said.
    Robert laughed. “Let me help you with that, then.”
    He drew her up beside him and unlaced her fine bodice, her
satin skirts and farthingale. As the garments fell away, she suddenly felt shy,
unsure. She shivered, half-drawing away from him.
    But then his lips touched the bare curve of her shoulder, and
the cold uncertainty turned to the fire of need. She trembled as he traced the
tip of his tongue over her skin, as he drew the jeweled pins from her hair and
let the length of it tumble free. His breath caught, grew rough, and she knew he
was as enraptured by the moment as she was.
    She lay back in the blankets and stared up at him in the
flickering light. He studied her, too, and she could only hope he enjoyed what
he saw as she did with him. He was so glorious, like an ancient god, and for
that night he was hers as she had dreamed of for so long.
    She held out her arms to him and he came to her, kissing her
lips, her neck, her shoulder, the softness of her bare breast, until she could
bear it no longer.
    She wrapped her legs around his lean hips and pulled him
against her. His skin was satin-smooth, hot, damp. She traced her eager touch
over his back, his strong shoulders. She pressed her lips to the pulse at the
base of his throat, tasting the salty-sweetness of him. She craved him like she
never had anything else, needed him.
    “Meg,” he whispered. He buried his face in the curve of her
shoulder, holding his body taut above hers. “Have you dreamed of this as I
have?”
    “Yes,” she gasped, but then she could say no more. She could
hardly breathe as his mouth, open and hot, slid over her skin. He swept aside
her tumbled hair to kiss the shell of her ear.
    She felt the rush of his breath, the light bite of the edge of
his teeth on her soft earlobe, and it made her shudder with a lightning-rush of
heat. She arched up into him.
    “Do you like that, my Meg?” he said.
    “I feel as if I’m falling,” she gasped as the room seemed to
whirl around her.
    “I’ll be here to catch you.” His fingertip slid between her
parted legs, tracing her seam before he slid deep into her wet core. And Meg let
herself fall free into the pleasure.
    “Please, Robert,” she begged, wanting so much more.
    His breath was ragged as she spread her legs farther and
pressed himself between them. His hips drew back and slid forward, and she felt
the stretch and burn as he slid inside her. She gasped at the new sensation, the
fullness of him joined with her at last.
    He plunged past her maidenhead and he went very still.
    “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his arms rigid as they
braced against her.
    “It’s better now,” she whispered. Afraid he might leave her,
she tightened her legs around his hips to hold him with her.
    And it was better. The burning ache faded as her body grew
accustomed to his, leaving only an enticing glimmer of sparkling pleasure.
Leaving only him and her together.
    He drew back one slow inch at a time, almost sliding out of her
before he flexed his lean hips and drove deep again.
    “Oh!” Meg gasped as he moved again and again, faster, deeper.
That twinkling heat of pleasure grew and grew, expanding low inside her until
every part of her ignited to fiery life. She instinctively learned his rhythm
and met him as they moved together, faster, more frantic.
    Behind her closed eyes there were sparks of gold and silver,
shining, burning. She heard a strange humming in her ears, growing louder in a
rising chorus. She cried his name aloud, wanting more and more. More of him.
    Then all thought, all sense, flew apart as those sparks
exploded. She felt as