“No…” she whispered, “I am not. But it is very kind of you to say it.”
He shook his head firmly. “Hear me well. I cannot begin to list all the things about you that are beautiful—a man could lose himself in your eyes; in your lovely, full lips; in your silken hair; in your soft, luscious curves; in your creamy, perfect skin and the way you blush and turn it the color of an exquisite, ripe peach. And that’s without considering your warmth, your intelligence, your humor, and the way I am utterly drawn to you when you enter a room.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at the words—words she desperately wanted to believe.
“Never doubt how beautiful you are, Callie. For your beauty has quite ruined me for all others. And, frankly, I rather wish I’d found you years ago.”
So do I, she thought. What if he’d noticed her all those years ago? What if he’d courted her then? Would she have had a life filled with romance and passion? Would she have avoided the deep, heart-wrenching loneliness that she’d so long denied?
And what about him? Would he have learned to love?
Her emotions played across her face and, while he couldn’t have known precisely what she was thinking, he seemed to understand nevertheless. He took her lips in a passionate kiss and she matched it, pouring a depth of feeling into the caress and stealing his breath.
When the kiss ended, he offered her a wicked grin. “I shall just have to make up for lost time, I imagine.” And she couldn’t help but laugh at his rakish tone. “Would you like to cross another item off this list today?”
“I should like that very much. Which do you propose?” She turned to look at the list as he let it fall from his fingers, unwanted, and he pulled her atop him. She gasped at the feel of him firm and warm beneath her, the smoothness of his skin between her thighs.
“I think it’s time you try riding astride.” As she took in his meaning, the words sent a liquid heat straight to the core of her, where she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her in the most intimate of ways.
“You can’t mean…” She paused as his hands lifted her into a seated position, cupping her br**sts and rubbing his thumbs across her fast-hardening ni**les.
“Oh, but I do, indeed, mean, Empress.” His words were soft and tempting as he pulled her down just far enough to provide him access to the tips of her br**sts. He kissed first one, then the other, while running his hand down her back to caress her rounded bu**ocks, rearranging her, opening her thighs. He released one turgid nipple with a lingering lick and watched her with heavy-lidded eyes as he guided her to sit straight up. His hands moved again, leaving fire in their wake, finally finding the place where she ached for him and stroking the slick, wet folds of her sex, and rolling his thumb over the hard, wanting nub of pleasure that seemed to belong to him now.
She whispered his name in the early-morning light, and he spoke in soft encouragements, “That’s it, Empress, come for me. I want to watch you fall apart above me…so passionate…so beautiful.”
The words were sinful, wicked and tempting and perfect, and it took all of Callie’s will to shake her head, placing her hands on his chest to support her weight. “No…” she protested. “I don’t want to…not without you with me.”
The words rocked him to his core, and he could think of little else but being inside of her, driving her to the edge and toppling over with her. “Please, Gabriel,” she pleaded. “Please make love to me.”
He never had a chance.
In seconds, he had lifted her and positioned himself at the entrance to her warm, luxurious heat, and he allowed her to feel her power over him as she sank down onto his shaft, seating herself to the hilt. Her eyes were wide with the newfound pleasure of this movement, and in that moment he adored her—her eager uncertainty making her thoroughly irresistible.
He set his hands to her hips, guiding her up, then back down, slowly, showing her the movements, encouraging her exploration. “That’s it, beautiful,” he whispered, watching as her voluptuous body rose and fell on him in sweet torment. “Ride me.” And she did, finding her own marvelous rhythm—one that he thought would certainly kill him if he didn’t so desperately want to live to see the ecstasy on her face when she found her release.
He didn’t have to wait long. She perfected the angle, tiny little gasps of pleasure marking each step she took toward the ultimate goal, and he held on to her hips, his grasp firm and encouraging as she reached for completion. “Take it, Empress,” he said hoarsely, as he watched her crest on a wave of pleasure, eyes closed, back arched, head thrown back in complete abandon as she moved against him. “Take what you want.”
Her eyes opened, and he read the desire in her gaze. “Come with me,” she said, not understanding the erotic power of the words. He could do nothing but give her that for which she had asked. He flexed beneath her as she lost her strength and fell against him, catching her cries with a kiss, rolling her to her back and continuing their movements until the pleasure shattered around her again. Only then did he give himself up to the powerful pulsing release that made him never want to leave her arms or her bed again.
Minutes later, as they lay tangled together, dazed in the aftermath of their loving, Callie began to chuckle silently against Gabriel’s side. Lifting his head to find her grinning a wide, silly grin, he drawled, “What is it that has you so amused, lovely?”
“I was simply thinking”—she stopped to catch her breath from the laughter and started again—“I was merely thinking that if that is what riding astride is like, the female population is missing out on one of life’s finer experiences.” The last word was lost as she dissolved once more into giggles.
He caught her against him in a fierce hug and sighed, unable to keep himself from smiling up at the ceiling as he said, “You know, Empress, men do not appreciate laughter at this particular moment. It’s devastating to the self-confidence.”
Her head snapped up and she took in his amused countenance. “Oh, my apologies, good sir,” she teased. “I would hate to damage such a fragile ego as that of the Marquess of Ralston.”
With a playful growl, he pinned her to the mattress. “Minx. You shall pay for that.” And he began to kiss down the side of her neck, nibbling across her collarbone until she sighed with pleasure.
“If this is how I must pay for it, my lord, you may guarantee I shall tease you a great deal in the coming months.”
“More than months, I hope,” he drawled, distracted by her lovely white br**sts. “Years. Decades, even.”
“Decades,” she repeated, awestruck. My God. He’s going to be my husband.
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured against her skin before pulling away from her. “Which is why, despite how very difficult it shall be for me to leave you warm and lush in your bed, I shall console myself with the fact that, very soon, I shan’t have to do so ever again.”
She watched as he dressed, marveling at his magnificent form before he leaned over her to deliver her a soft, wonderful farewell kiss. “Will you be at the Chilton Ball tonight?”
“I had planned to be.”
“Excellent. I will see you then. Save me a waltz.” He kissed her again, savoring the taste of her. “Save me all of them.”