The
Texan’s Irish Bride
Her
rose scent filled him, and he thought he would never tire of it. She fumbled
with his shirt buttons then pushed it from his shoulders.
“Yours
is a very broad chest.”
Her
fingers skimmed across him, and his need for her magnified. When she traced the
whorls of his nipple, he thought his knees might give way. He stilled her hand.
“There’s
something I want from you, have wanted since we met.”
Fear
sprang into her widened emerald eyes and she paled. Dang, he cursed himself for
frightening her and her for not trusting him.
Her
voice trembled. “Wh—What would you be asking?”
“Dance
for me.” He knew it sounded crazy, but he’d imagined this for days.
She
looked askance. “Here? But ‘tis your bedroom, and not a note ‘o music playing.”
“Our
bedroom, and you can sing or hear the music in your
head to keep time.”
“But—”
“Please?
Not for coins or where others can see, but only for me.”
A
slow smile spread across her face, and she cocked her head to one side. “Aye, I
see now. If ‘tis for your pleasure, then ‘twill be mine.”
After
she took off her shoes and stockings, she spun away. But not in the regimented
dance he’d seen when other women accompanied her. This time she took the red
scarf from her waist and used it as an instrument meant to entice a man.
Her
man.
Him.
She
twirled as if to a measured rhythm only she heard. Her green skirt and white
petticoats billowed out to reveal long, perfect legs. Legs he wanted around
him. She slid the scarf in imitation of a caress along her slender arms. Then
she moved the red silk along her body.
Dang,
he was hot as a gunslinger’s pistol and just as hard. His manhood strained
against his britches until he thought he’d pop through the fabric. He loosened
the buttons and stepped from his clothes, never taking his gaze from her.
Reaching behind him, he turned back the bedding and sat on the sheet.
Before
his heat warmed the cool fabric, she pulled him to the middle of the room and
circled around him. He pivoted, naked as a newborn, and watched her every move.
Dipping, fluttering, and arching her lithe frame, she lured him with each
sinuous flow of her body.
Flush
with the throbbing pulsating through him, he pictured himself plunging into her
again and again as she wound around him. Her erotic gyrations set his already
heated blood at a boil, but he stood mesmerized by her and the dance.
Her
flaming hair streamed around her in a fiery cloud. She looped the scarf over
his head, and the red silk left a tingling trail across his shoulders and down
his right arm. Then she threaded it around her own shoulders and sawed it while
she shrugged first one shoulder up and then the other one. Fabric of her blouse
pulled taut against her full breasts and pushed the peaked nipples into view.
Dang,
he couldn’t take much more of this, or he’d explode like fireworks on the
Fourth of July. On and on she whirled and kicked, first coming near to brush
against him, then moving back with a captivating smile. Teasing him with the
piece of silk as she pulled it across his body, she seared him with her touch
and made him part of her beguiling ritual.
When
he could stand it no longer, he said, “Come here, let’s dance together in bed.”
To his ears, his voice rasped hoarse with the need that burned inside him.
She
approached slowly, seductively, with fluid grace. As she moved, she drew off
her remaining clothes. Twining the scarf around his wrists, she pulled his arms
high until she slid under them, imprisoning him and herself in their circle.
“Now
we are truly bound together,” she said, her voice
breathy from her exotic dance.
“Am
I your prisoner, then?” he asked, amused at her tempting play even as her touch
fueled his need.
“Yes,
and I am yours.” She met his gaze, but her jewel eyes held uncertainty. “Did I
please you then, or was I too forward with meself?”
“You
are beautiful and graceful, and your dance was even more special than I’d
hoped.”
She
breathed a big sigh. “Then you approve and will be taking me to bed now?”
“I
suppose I must do as you say, since I’m your prisoner.” He nibbled at her neck,
and she released the scarf binding him. The silk fell from his skin as her arms
slid around his shoulders.
Their
lips met, and he delved his tongue to sample her nectar. She responded with
fervor. He rejoiced that if he must be tied to this woman, at least she shared
his apparently boundless passion. He pulled her with him across the bed, then scooted her until she lay cushioned in the center of
the thick mattress.
“Finally,
I can see and taste all of you.”
“I’m
hoping ‘tis all right for us to act so heathen.”
He
lay propped on an elbow beside her, content for a moment to look his fill of
her. “It isn’t heathen for a husband and wife to enjoy one another. Doesn’t it
feel right?”
In
the golden lamplight, her skin gleamed like ivory.
“Aye,
it feels more than right. It’s as if being with you is where I was meant to
be.”
He
smoothed her auburn hair across the pillow. It looked even more glorious there
than he had dreamed. Desire darkened her emerald eyes, and the pink of exertion
tinged her cheeks.
“No
woman will ever be more beautiful than you are right now.”
“If
you think that, then we’re well matched, for never lived a more handsome man
than you are.”
He
took her graceful hand in his and brought it to his lips. After he pressed a
kiss to her palm, he suckled each fingertip.
She
pulled away and put her hands under her. “You’ll be driving me mad with
wanting. Hurry.”
He
smiled down at her and shook his head. “Nope. I’ve
thought about this night since we wed. Reckon we might not get much sleep, for
I intend to take my time.”
“But
‘tis torture waiting.” She reached for his manhood.
He
twisted away. “Let me give you something to think about, then.” Starting with
her beautiful eyes, he rained kisses on her face, her neck, and her shoulders.
He cradled one of her ample breasts while his mouth suckled the other.
She
moaned and clutched him to her.
In
spite of his throbbing need, he restrained his own urgency and slowly trailed
kisses down her ribs, her stomach, to her mound of curls. He slid a finger
inside her moist heat.
“Now,
Dallas, now. I can’t wait another second.”
Desire
won, and he stretched himself over her. “Nor can I,” he said and slid into her.
“Let’s begin our own dance.