Page 70 of The Wedding Challenge

“I have thought about kissing you these past days,” she told him, emboldened by the energy pulsing through her. “Have you not thought about it?” She stretched up on tiptoe to place a featherlight kiss upon the line of his jaw.

She felt the shudder that ran through him. “Good God, Callie, I have thought of little else.” She turned her head, brushing a kiss along the other side of his jaw. “You are mad to do this.”

“Perhaps I am, a little,” she agreed. “Do you mind?”

“I fear that you shall mind—tomorrow.”

“I will not,” Callie promised, pressing her lips to his chin.

She stretched upward, her soft lips beckoning his mouth, sweet and promising. He knew that he should pull away. A gentleman would never take advantage of a woman this way. But he could not seem to make his legs move, and he certainly did not feel like a gentleman at the moment.

Callie pressed her lips against Brom’s, gently, like the merest breath, then came back to taste again, lingering this time before she pulled away. She looked up into his eyes, dark now with desire, and waited. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, the tension that ran up and down the length of him. His hands were clenched into fists, as if to hold on tightly to the shreds of his control.

Her eyes steadily on his, she went up on tiptoe again, her mouth turning up to his. He let out a groan deep in his throat, and his arms clamped around her as his mouth came down to meet hers. Passion, long held back by both of them, came flooding out, swift and unstoppable.

Their arms strained to pull them closer as their mouths clung desperately. They pulled away only to tear at their clothing, coming back together an instant later, unable to bear another moment apart, moving in a constant turning dance of desire that brought them closer and closer to the bed.

His boots were soon gone, and his shirt unbuttoned and tossed blindly onto the floor. The myriad buttons down her back proved more difficult, but they, too, were conquered, though several of the small buttons were popped from their moorings in the process. In one smooth motion he stripped her dress down her body, revealing her lithe form, clad only in her thin undergarments.

Callie’s breasts pushed up against the cotton chemise, swelling over its ribboned neckline, the nubs of her hardened nipples visible through the thin fabric. He stopped, his eyes dropping to the sight of the full white orbs, the edge of the chemise skimming just above her nipples, keeping them tantalizingly out of view. Slowly, almost reverently, he traced his forefinger along the neckline, his skin grazing her soft white flesh. Callie quivered beneath his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

With the same deliberation, his fingers hooked into the top of the chemise, edging the material downward. The cloth rubbed over her sensitive nipples, tightening them further, as he slowly tugged it down until at last her nipples popped free, hard and pointing, dark rose in their arousal.

He pulled the chemise down sharply then, little noticing and caring less for the faint ripping sound of the fabric. Her breasts fell free of the garment, firm and deliciously rounded, full white globes that seemed made for his hands. He could not keep from reaching out and cupping them, taking the weight of them in his hands, savoring the silken smooth feel of her skin. His thumbs moved over her nipples, circling and teasing the hard buds.

With each movement Callie felt desire curl and knot within her, her loins melting, turning her hot and liquid. She could not keep still. Her flesh jerked and quivered beneath his touch; her legs moved restlessly, pressing together as though to still the relentless yearning that was growing there.

She wanted each moment to last forever, yet at the same time she was filled with an urgent need, an eagerness that wanted to find and grasp and have everything at once.

Callie reached out, finding the waistband of his breeches, and began to unbutton them. She could feel the insistent movement beneath the cloth, the physical proof of his need, and she could not resist sliding her hand downward over the material, caressing the throbbing ridge beneath it.

Brom let out a low moan, which emboldened her to explore further, gliding lower to edge between his legs, then back up to slip between his trousers and his skin, down past the top unfastened button. It was completely unknown to her, the feel of satin-smooth skin and rough hair, the eager, leaping surge of flesh, and it was strangely exciting.

He seized her lips in a fierce kiss, his mouth devouring hers as she made her tentative sensual exploration, and he caressed her breasts, gently squeezing and stroking. Desire sparked through her, jumping and twisting with each movement of his hands.

Suddenly, as though he could wait no longer, Brom released her, moving back a little and reaching down to unbutton his breeches and sweep them down his body. Callie barely had time to react before he was untying her chemise and petticoats, pulling them from her and throwing them toward a chair.

He went down on one knee, startling her, and she realized that he was untying her boots. He lifted her foot to pull one off, and she put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. He looked up at her as he raised the other foot and pulled the boot from it, and his eyes were intense and bright with promise. Callie suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Brom slid his hand up under the lace-trimmed leg of her pantalet, following the curve of her calf and moving up onto her thigh. He hooked his fingers into her garter and slowly drew it, and her stocking, down, his hands gliding over her now-bare flesh with infinite slowness. Callie swallowed hard; her skin tingled under his touch, and her legs felt unaccountably weak, as if they might give way beneath her at any moment. With the same care, he removed her other stocking.

Then he rose to his feet, his hands sliding up her legs and over her pantalets until he reached the waistband. Slowly, his eyes holding hers, he tugged at the ribbon, untying the bow. His hands slid under the loosened waistband, shoving the thin cotton garment out of the way as his hands smoothed down over the lush curve of her hips. The pantalets fell the rest of the way to the floor, and she stood before him completely naked at last.

His eyes roamed down over her body, his face slackening with hunger. Callie thought she should have felt embarrassed to have him look at her like this—and perhaps she was, a little—but to her surprise, his gaze stirred her as though it was his fingers that roamed over her flesh. She could feel the moisture gathering between her legs, the tender flesh throbbing.

“You are so beautiful,” he said hoarsely, and he bent to pick her up in his arms and carry her the last few steps to the bed.

He laid her down upon the mattress and stretched out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand went to her chest, spreading his fingers on the flat plane of her rib cage, then traveling, curving over her breasts, then onto her stomach, caressing her abdomen, her hips, and at last moving down the side of her leg. His fingers slipped then between her legs, separating them, and slid down the inside of her thigh. Slowly, his hand began to retrace its path upward.

Callie’s breath came short and fast as his fingers trailed higher, teasing the tender inner skin of her thighs, moving ever closer to his goal. Then, at last, he reached the center of her femininity, the lush secret folds that guarded her. Heat poured through her as he touched her there, gently separating and exploring that most intimate place.

She bit her lip, so sudden and sharp was the exquisite pleasure, and arched against his hand. She had never dreamed that anything could feel quite like this, that her body could surge and melt at the merest touch of his finger.

Callie groaned and moved beneath his hand, and he smiled down at her, his face heavy with sensual triumph. He bent and touched his lips to her breast, and she gasped at this new sensation. His lips moved across the soft white flesh, kissing and nibbling gently, teasing with the tip of his tongue, until he came to the hard button of her nipple. There he stopped and concentrated his attention, circling and teasing, until finally his mouth came down upon it and he began to suckle her in long, luxurious strokes.

A shudder shook her body at the combined pleasures of his mouth and fingers. Callie felt as if every part of her was on fire, and the molten center of that flame lay deep in her abdomen, where she pulsed and burned with a desperate need. She writhed beneath his ministrations, digging in with her heels and clutching at the coverlet beneath her.

“Please, please,” she begged, feeling as if she must die, must explode.