chapter 6

She fancied her husband a lot.

Her heart pounded almost painfully. She fancied him more than she could say. Especially as he was now peeling back her sweatshirt and bending his mouth to the mound of her breast. She tipped her head back and a helpless shudder ran through her as he sucked at the nipple through the flimsy barrier of her new bra. And now he was beginning to stroke her belly and she wanted more. Much more. She could feel the molten heat building between her thighs, along with a hungry pulse of need which had started flickering there. Her mouth dried to dust because he was igniting a yearning deep inside her and it felt so incredible that every cell of her body was screaming to let him carry on.

So she did.

She told herself it would only be for a minute. Certainly no longer than that.

His hand slipped further down and he pushed aside the centre panel of her panties, which were almost shockingly wet, and Allie gave a little cry as he made contact with her aching flesh. She swallowed. Was it so wrong for his finger to be skating urgently over that most intimate part of her? And for that same finger to alight on the exquisitely sensitised nub before beginning to move in delicate rhythm? How could it be wrong when it felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before? When it felt so good...

She closed her eyes as the light movement made her catch her breath, then blindly she lifted her face to his, and his responding kiss made her feel as if she were drowning in honey.

‘My princess?’ he groaned again against her lips.

Again she sensed that some new barrier was about to be crossed and he was seeking her permission. Maybe if he’d said her name then common sense might have prevailed, but his repetition of her title made her feel slightly disconnected and uncaring of the consequences. As if this were not happening to her but to someone else—someone she didn’t know very well.

‘Yes,’ she said, in her own language, her next words muffled by the sweatshirt he was pulling over her head. ‘Yes, please.’

He was undressing. Or at least, he was freeing himself from his clothes. There was very little ceremony involved. Allie watched as her husband impatiently removed his long leather boots and kicked them aside, before peeling off his dark trousers and sending them in the same direction, after first extracting a mysterious packet of foil.

His shirt followed, exposing the honed magnificence of his bare chest—but there wasn’t really time to appreciate it because the bodyguard was turning his attention to her once more. He splayed his palms over her hips, her slouchy pants were swiftly disposed of and it wasn’t until she felt the rush of cool air against her legs that it suddenly occurred to her that Luke was completely naked, while she was still wearing her underwear.

His eyes narrowed as if he had suddenly tuned into her thoughts. ‘We don’t seem to be very equally matched,’ he murmured.

It was almost enough to destroy the mood, but by then she didn’t care, because he was deftly unclipping her bra and her reservations were dissolved by the delicious sensation of her breasts sliding free. She liked the way that made her feel, just as she liked the way his eyes had darkened in response.

His gaze roved to the only remaining barrier to her nakedness—a tiny triangle of pink lace panties, which matched the bra—and she saw his mouth harden with something she didn’t recognise. Something which looked faintly disapproving. Surely not—for hadn’t part of her pre-wedding sexual education reinforced the fact that men liked provocative lingerie and it was a wife’s duty to heed such desires?

Allie chewed on her lip. Perhaps he was perplexed by her extravagant underclothes, particularly when worn underneath such a deliberately unglamorous outer layer. She wondered what he’d say if he knew that the flimsy garment was completely unlike the sleek black briefs she normally favoured.

But now was not the time to start thinking about the trousseau which had been acquired by one of her mother’s stylists. Not when he was hooking the sides of her panties with his fingers while making a low, growling noise at the back of his throat. For one crazy moment she thought he was about to rip them off and wasn’t there an unknown and rather shocking side to her character which actually hoped he would? But she had been mistaken, because he was removing them conventionally enough, sliding them down over her knees—though with hands which were slightly unsteady.

His watchful eyes burned into her as he ran a questing finger over her thighs, lightly stroking the goose-pimpled flesh in inciting circles which made them tremble even more. And suddenly Allie found herself parting her legs for him, as if his pewter gaze was compelling her to do so—and he was...he was...

She gave a startled gasp as Luke bent his head down between her thighs. His tongue began to dart over the exquisitely aroused flesh and he gently hushed her with a single,

‘Shh!’

It was an impossible order. How could she possibly stay silent when he was working such magic? When he was making her feel like this—as though she were rapidly soaring towards an unknown destination? Some place of unbelievable sweetness which was beckoning to her with honeyed fingers. It felt shockingly intimate. Decadent and delicious. It felt perfect.