Her Christmas Pleasure by Karen Erickson Read Free Book Online Page A

her with ruthless efficiency, pushing the fabric from her shoulders. It hit the floor, and she opened her eyes to find him examining her with a devilish gleam. Drinking her in with such wonder she felt like a goddess. The way he looked at her made her feel like a goddess in simple linen.
    Who shouldn’t have such an effect on a handsome, capable man such as Damien Morton.
    “You’re beautiful.” His scorching blue gaze ignited a similar flame within her, and her breath caught in her throat. Never tearing his eyes from hers, he reached out and touched her. A simple brush of his knuckles against the tip of her right breast, his movements deliberate as his hand slipped down, then back up.
    Slow. Methodical. Devastating.
    Closing her eyes, she clutched him tight, desperate to hold on. Savored the feeling of his large knuckles brushing against her other breast, back and forth across her hardened nipple. She swayed toward him and wished for more, wished she was brave enough to ask, but the words clogged in her throat. A helpless squeak escaped her when his fingers drew together and pinched.
    The pleasurable pain spiraled throughout her body and settled as an insistent throb between her legs. She arched her head back, whimpering when he did it again.
    “Please, Damien.” He continued his deliberate torture upon her body and tugged on the ribbon and it unraveled at her shoulder, the fabric slowly parting. A whisper of linen cascaded forward to expose her shoulder, her collarbone and finally her breasts.
    He sucked in a harsh breath as he studied her. She lifted her head and opened her eyes so she could watch him watch her. Her breasts were in perfect alignment for his mouth since she still hovered above him. Tightening her legs on either side of his hips, she nudged forward and waited with breathless anticipation his mouth drew nearer to her tight nipple.
    More exquisite torture as he nuzzled her breasts with his face, rubbing his stubble-roughened cheeks on her sensitive skin. For a man who’d nearly swallowed her whole with his earlier urgent kisses, he’d gained an enormous amount of restraint. He was driving her absolutely mad with his teasing touches. She wanted more.
    So much more.
    Another gasp escaped her when he licked a delicate path along the valley of skin between her breasts. Wet and hot, his tongue curved the underside of each breast, then circled the pale pink of her areola. She slid her hands into his hair, clutching his head closer as he drew her into his mouth and sucked. His tongue lashed her taut flesh, and he drew her deep until she couldn’t do anything but cry out incoherently. Lost to the touch of his mouth and his wandering hands…
    “I am dreaming,” he murmured against her flesh, dropping kisses in between his words. “You’re not really here in my arms, are you?”
    “I am.” She rested her cheek atop his head. His hair tickled her skin. She smiled and squeezed him close. “Take me to bed, Damien.”
    He shifted, and she lifted her head so they could stare at each other. They remained silent. She waited for him to say something, anything. When he remained quiet, panic flooded her.
    If he refused her and sent her back to her bedchamber, she didn’t know what she might do. Fall apart? Beg him to take her? Throw herself at his feet, grasp hold of his legs and never let go?
    All options were far too humiliating to contemplate, let alone imagine actually resorting to.
    “Are you sure, Celia?” He stiffened, as if prepared for the blow.
    She shook her head and laughed softly. They were certainly a pair, the both of them. She was still amazed it had taken her this long to realize it.
    “Why are you laughing?” He sounded as if he might be frightfully angry. She reached for him, pressed a smacking kiss to his lips as she clasped his face in her hands. “Oh, I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I…?”
    “Yes, you are.” She pressed her forehead to his, staring deep into his clear blue eyes.