Christmas Wedding Belles: The Pirate's Kiss / A Smuggler's Tale / The Sailor's Bride. Miranda Jarrett
the petticoats, holding her down so that his mouth could plunder her at will. It was blissful, agonising. Her legs were quivering now, the muscles of her stomach tight beneath his palm, her fingers clenched in the fur-lined blanket. The rub of the material against the back of her thighs was blissful torment. Never, ever had she felt like this. The incandescent sensations grew and exploded irresistibly in a cluster of light, and she felt as though her whole body had shattered too.
But only for a moment. He did not give her time to think about what had happened. He slid back up her body and took her mouth again, and she moved beneath him and gave a little moan. The sensations he had aroused had not gone away. They thrummed through her like the vibration of an instrument. Her skin felt hot with a passion she had never experienced before.
‘Please,’ she said again, and hardly recognised her own voice.
There was a brief moment of cold as he withdrew from her, but then he was back, the whole of his long, hard body matching and fitting perfectly against her. But when he eased himself inside her at last it was so slow and gentle that she almost screamed with frustration.
‘Damn you, Daniel.’ Temper flared in her. ‘Don’t tease me so…’
He laughed. ‘My impatient Lucinda.’
The controlled, smooth friction was driving her to near madness, and suddenly she wanted to know her own power, to show him he could not always dictate to her. She dug her fingers into his back and bit his shoulder, and she felt his body jolt as his restraint broke at last and he plunged into her, hard and fast, all gentleness fled, and in its place a driving masculine possession that almost consumed her.
His kiss had a savage urgency; she heard him cry out her name and then the exquisite shudders racked her body again, primitive and intense. She felt the force of his climax sweep them both away and held on to him desperately as the only sure thing in a tumultuous world. Gradually her senses started to settle, and she shifted into the circle of his arms. They held one another close as the bitterness of lost love was finally wiped out by all the bright promise of the future.
Later on Lucinda lost the petticoats, and with them the very last shreds of her modesty and inhibitions. The snow had stopped falling and they had run out into it, naked in the moonlight, Lucinda squealing as Daniel tumbled her into a snowdrift and kissed her until she forgot the cold and clung to him with the blood racing hot again through her veins.
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