at her. Then he caught both her wrists in his free hand and held her arms above her head. Her eyes widened. He was going to—
He tilted the glass so that a single drop fell on to her burning skin. It should have fizzed into steam like water dropped on hot coals. She struggled a little against his hold, trying to free her hands. She had to touch him! ‘Robert! Please! I need to—’ He laughed, low in his throat, and let her go. Then he began to drip yet more tiny bubbles on to her skin, until the tingling drops were running down towards her navel. When he bent to retrieve them with his mouth, she put her hands to his head and raked her fingers through his hair, pushing him even closer.
He licked the wine from her skin with a deep moan of satisfaction. And then he began all over again. Now he dipped the tip of his tongue into the tiny pool of golden liquid and licked his way up to her breast, circling her aching nipple tantalisingly. He did not touch the swollen, straining flesh that so yearned for the feel of his mouth. Then he paused to admire his handiwork before repeating the process with her other breast. ‘Champagne never tasted so wonderful before.’
A few more drops. This time, he licked them from the valley between her breasts down to her navel. And beyond. And then he was kissing her so strongly that her hips bucked off the bed to meet his questing mouth. In moments, she was spiralling out of control. The spasms seized her and took her over the edge into blissful oblivion.
Chapter Six
‘Isobel? Come back to me?’
She opened her eyes to find that she was no longer alone in the great bed. Robert was beside her at last, and as naked as she. ‘Oh.’ He stroked a finger down her cheek, so very gently. ‘Mmm.’ Her body felt soft and languid. She turned into his arms, seeking his embrace.
This time, he did not resist. He accepted what she offered, kissing her deeply, holding her close against his aroused body, running his caressing hand down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer still. He tasted of champagne, and love-making. The hard length of him pressed against her belly. She gloried in the feel of him, skin against skin, flesh against flesh. Soon to be one flesh.
They kissed until they were both moaning. He rolled her on to her back and began to caress her breasts, her belly, her flanks, with long sweeping strokes, but never coming near the core of her. He caressed her until she was almost screaming with need.
‘Touch me, Robert,’ she groaned into his hungry mouth. ‘I need you now. Please.’
He put his hands to her face and held her steady while he settled into the welcoming cradle of her hips. ‘Look at me, Isobel. Trust me.’
He held her gaze and drove into her moist heat with one long stroke. Joy, wonder and then a sharp pain. She screwed up her eyes. She could not help it. He caught her shocked gasp in a consoling kiss and held himself very still within her, waiting. Very tenderly, he kissed her closed eyelids until her muscles relaxed once more.
‘Isobel?’ His voice was very soft. And concerned. For her.
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. She could see the flame of that single candle reflected there. He was frowning. She lifted a finger to smooth his brow. She felt her body softening, stretching and moulding itself around him. That momentary pain was gone. His heat was within her, leashed by his iron will until she should be ready for him. The flames began to leap within her body. She wanted him. She wanted this.
Without knowing what she did, she tensed her inner muscles around him. His response was instant. He pushed even further into the core of her as she opened to him. Seconds later, she was wrapping her legs around him and straining to match the rhythm of his long strokes. Harder, higher, faster. Together. They were moving as one flesh, and it was glorious. She could no longer think. She could only feel. And then he took her beyond feeling, beyond thought,
He tilted the glass so that a single drop fell on to her burning skin. It should have fizzed into steam like water dropped on hot coals. She struggled a little against his hold, trying to free her hands. She had to touch him! ‘Robert! Please! I need to—’ He laughed, low in his throat, and let her go. Then he began to drip yet more tiny bubbles on to her skin, until the tingling drops were running down towards her navel. When he bent to retrieve them with his mouth, she put her hands to his head and raked her fingers through his hair, pushing him even closer.
He licked the wine from her skin with a deep moan of satisfaction. And then he began all over again. Now he dipped the tip of his tongue into the tiny pool of golden liquid and licked his way up to her breast, circling her aching nipple tantalisingly. He did not touch the swollen, straining flesh that so yearned for the feel of his mouth. Then he paused to admire his handiwork before repeating the process with her other breast. ‘Champagne never tasted so wonderful before.’
A few more drops. This time, he licked them from the valley between her breasts down to her navel. And beyond. And then he was kissing her so strongly that her hips bucked off the bed to meet his questing mouth. In moments, she was spiralling out of control. The spasms seized her and took her over the edge into blissful oblivion.
Chapter Six
‘Isobel? Come back to me?’
She opened her eyes to find that she was no longer alone in the great bed. Robert was beside her at last, and as naked as she. ‘Oh.’ He stroked a finger down her cheek, so very gently. ‘Mmm.’ Her body felt soft and languid. She turned into his arms, seeking his embrace.
This time, he did not resist. He accepted what she offered, kissing her deeply, holding her close against his aroused body, running his caressing hand down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer still. He tasted of champagne, and love-making. The hard length of him pressed against her belly. She gloried in the feel of him, skin against skin, flesh against flesh. Soon to be one flesh.
They kissed until they were both moaning. He rolled her on to her back and began to caress her breasts, her belly, her flanks, with long sweeping strokes, but never coming near the core of her. He caressed her until she was almost screaming with need.
‘Touch me, Robert,’ she groaned into his hungry mouth. ‘I need you now. Please.’
He put his hands to her face and held her steady while he settled into the welcoming cradle of her hips. ‘Look at me, Isobel. Trust me.’
He held her gaze and drove into her moist heat with one long stroke. Joy, wonder and then a sharp pain. She screwed up her eyes. She could not help it. He caught her shocked gasp in a consoling kiss and held himself very still within her, waiting. Very tenderly, he kissed her closed eyelids until her muscles relaxed once more.
‘Isobel?’ His voice was very soft. And concerned. For her.
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. She could see the flame of that single candle reflected there. He was frowning. She lifted a finger to smooth his brow. She felt her body softening, stretching and moulding itself around him. That momentary pain was gone. His heat was within her, leashed by his iron will until she should be ready for him. The flames began to leap within her body. She wanted him. She wanted this.
Without knowing what she did, she tensed her inner muscles around him. His response was instant. He pushed even further into the core of her as she opened to him. Seconds later, she was wrapping her legs around him and straining to match the rhythm of his long strokes. Harder, higher, faster. Together. They were moving as one flesh, and it was glorious. She could no longer think. She could only feel. And then he took her beyond feeling, beyond thought,
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