Infamous by Virginia Henley Read Free Book Online Page A

God, her hair is like silken moonlight. He thought her weightless as thistledown as he carried his precious burden to the bed, laid her down gently, and spread her shimmering hair across the crimson velvet cover.
    He gazed down at her, spellbound, and wondered briefly if he were dreaming—surely she was too unearthly fair to be real. If not a dream, perhaps she was a figment of his imagination, a fantasy come to life. Slowly, he lifted a silvery tendril, and as he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, it suddenly curled possessively about his fingers, binding them together, and he rejoiced that she was real flesh and blood.
    Her dazzling smile lured him onto the bed and as he gazed down at her, she reached up to touch his face. Her fingers brushed across his lips and then traced the outline of his strong jaw, where the blue-black shadow of his beard showed through his skin. Her fingertips stroked across the arch of his brow, dark as a raven’s wing; then she threaded her fingers through his long black hair and pulled his face down to hers. She touched her lips to his and whispered his name. “Guy…”
    An urge to ravish her flooded over him, but he checked it with his iron will. Instead, he captured her mouth and reveled in its sweet eager surrender. Her kisses tasted like honey, and he couldn’t wait to taste the rest of her. His hand stroked down the curve of her throat and his thirsting mouth followed the path of his fingers. He cupped her breast and it filled his calloused palm. Her skin was like alabaster and he hoped he would not mar it with his rough fingers. The tips of her breasts looked like tiny pink rosebuds. When he covered one with his mouth, it swelled and peaked against his tongue.
    He kissed her everywhere, the velvety place beneath her breasts, the fine skin that stretched tautly over her delicate rib cage, the soft flesh of her concave belly with its pretty navel. Finally, he came to her plump little mons covered by a hundred tiny gilt tendrils and he groaned with pleasure. She was the most beautifully made female he had ever seen, let alone touched or tasted, and he realized how rare and special she was. “I want to keep you. I want to take you back to Warwick with me.”
    His words thrilled her. “Make love to me, Guy.”
    â€œI want to draw it out all night, little beauty. Indulge me.”
    â€œIndulge…the evocative word sounds suggestively sinful.”
    Sins of the flesh! Splendor of God, I want to commit every one with you. Then I’ll create some new ones. “Put your arms around my neck and hang on.”
    She did as he asked, then impulsively wrapped her legs about him too. As she clung to him, he arose from the bed and carried her across the chamber. She pressed her mouth against the muscled cords of his neck, loving the salt taste of his swarthy skin. With every step he took, the crisp curls on his wide chest teased the nipples of her soft breasts, turning them into hard little buds, and with every step she felt his erect cock brush against the cheeks of her bum, exciting her so much she bit his shoulder.
    Warwick stopped before the polished silver mirror. “I want to see what we look like together, and I want you to see, too.” He lifted her from his marble-hard cock, set her feet on the carpet so that she faced the mirror, and positioned himself behind her.
    Though Jory had spent many an hour in front of a looking glass, arranging her hair or admiring the fit of a gown, she had never studied the reflection of herself nude. The contrast between their bodies was startling. It emphasized and exaggerated their many differences. She looked extremely small, soft, delicate, pale, feminine, fragile, and exquisitely beautiful.
    Everything about Warwick looked too large, too hard, too dark, too powerful, and far far too masculine. The prideful way he held his head hinted that if the mood took him, he also could be dominant and dangerous.