The Rose Red Bride JK2 by Claire Delacroix Read Free Book Online

large that her fingers were fairly swallowed in his grip.
    Yet his clasp was gentle. His heat loomed beside her, the scent of his skin making Vivienne’s pulse quicken. His thumb slid across the back of her hand in a caress and Vivienne was certain her heart could pound no louder.
    “It is the flint and the rasp,” she guessed, barely able to reason beneath his disarming touch. In every tale she knew, fairies spurned metal. “You cannot bear its presence, of course.”
    “It is the light,” he murmured. “I would discover you with keener senses than mere sight.” And he kissed her then, claimed her lips with a demand that startled her with its vigor. Vivienne gasped and her hand fluttered against his chest.
    Of course, he had yearned for her. He had watched her from across the threshold, his passion running higher with each glimpse. She was not a stranger to him, as he was to her. Though she was far from experienced in such deeds, Vivienne opened her mouth beneath his even as she trembled.
    And then his manner changed. It was as if her uncertainty had softened his desire, as if her cautious response awakened a tenderness within him. Indeed, he then courted her response. She felt it in his kiss, how he waited for her to become accustomed to the press of him against her, how he waited for her to respond before he deepened his kiss again.
    Vivienne was charmed. Only a lover true would command his passion so that his lady was not afraid.
    His fingers slipped into her hair, cupping her nape so that he could feast upon her lips. He drew her to her feet and the cloak she had only cast over her shoulders fell to the floor. He caught her against him before she could feel the chill of the night and she heard the thunder of his heart so close to her own.
    She felt his other hand trail over her, touching her curves with a feather-light touch, as if he found her to be the marvel. Her heart raced when his fingertips trailed down her throat, her nipple beaded when his hand swept over her breast, her belly tightened when his hand rested upon her waist. Something hot and unruly awakened within her, something Vivienne had the wits to recognize as desire. There was dampness between her thighs and hunger in her kiss, and she knew precisely what she desired of him.
    It mattered little whether they loved first or wed first, for both would be achieved in time. It could be no other way, for they were intended to be together.
    When he broke their embrace, she was breathless but anxious for more of this new pleasure. She thought she could see the glint of his eyes and she smiled at him, wondering whether he smiled back. “That was wondrous,” she said.
    “More wondrous than any had the right to expect,” he said, though Vivienne could not understand fully what he meant. Was lovemaking between destined lovers more potent? He cast off his cloak, letting it swirl in an arc before he cast it across her rough pallet with a graceful gesture.
    When he reached for her again, joy rose within Vivienne. She could do naught but acquiesce, for this was the grand passion that she desired beyond all else.
    It was Vivienne who stretched to her toes to demand more of him, Vivienne who let her hands cup his face to draw him closer. His jaw was smooth, like that of a mortal man who had just sheared his whiskers. Fairies, Vivienne knew, were eternally young. Perhaps their men did not even have whiskers.
    Her questing fingertips found the pulse at his throat, and she was shocked to find it racing as quickly as her own.
    “Surely you cannot be afraid of me?” she asked.
    He paused, as if regarding her, though Vivienne could not discern his face in the darkness. “How could I have expected such a welcome?” His words were so hoarse that Vivienne felt her breath catch in her throat.
    “How could I not welcome you fully?” Vivienne touched her lips to his and reveled in his gasp of surprise. She let her hands slide over him, as he had moved his over her, and