her closer to shattering.
But it was the constant stroke of his thumb against her clitoris. The sensations almost hurt, like a knot tightening low in her belly and even lower. The piercing sensation in her nub became a raw, sweet agony. She wanted to escape it, even as she never wanted him to stop that rub and press. Her world narrowed entirely onto the pleasure crowding her senses. Suddenly, hot, aching pleasure took her over. Maryann lost her breath, control of her body, and her mind as ecstasy tore her apart.
With a harsh groan, and with her still impaled on him, Nicolas twisted with her so she fell back on the bed. He thrust deep, then froze, spilling deep inside her body.
She curved into his chest, relaxing at the haven of his embrace, her lashes fluttering closed as exhaustion claimed her. Sometime later, Maryann muttered irritably when he lifted her and placed her in the center of the bed. She distantly felt that he cleaned her, and then he was there, holding her until she fell into a deep slumber.
Chapter Twenty
Maryann’s laughter rang into her bedchamber, charming Nicolas to no end. Playing charades with just the two of them was decidedly hilarious. Their rules had completely devolved from the original game. Each would simply think of a word, stand in the center of the room, and act it for the other to guess. Their game’s most profound rule was honesty.
“I give up,” she said with a gasping laugh, unable to understand what he could possibly be trying to communicate by stooping low with his hands clasped in a prayer, then to slowly rise swaying side to side, then to just explode into action by leaping high and spreading his arms wide.
She tried so ridiculously hard to not be distracted by the fact he was so casually dressed, and the open neck of his shirt revealed his throat and chest. They had been at a ball earlier, and one look from him across the expanse of the ballroom and she had pled a headache and returned home early. It hadn’t been long before he had slipped in through her windows.
Her bedroom had been transformed into a place where only dreams happened. Once he crept into her room and closed the door and windows behind her, the outside world ceased to exist, the risk of discovery that he was there faded, and everything inside…every touch, smile, every kiss, every story they shared about growing up, everything became enchanted.
“Shh,” Nicolas said, tumbling onto the carpet beside her and leaning over to nip at her ear. “Recall your parents and brother are also home. Tonight, we are living very dangerously.”
“What were you acting?” she whispered.
“A volcano.”
She choked on her laughter. “I am at a loss as to what goes on inside your head. How was that a volcano!”
He brushed a kiss over her mouth, and before he could withdraw, she snaked her hands around his nape and mashed their mouths together in a deep kiss. His groan vibrated from his mouth and she swallowed it, going with him when he curved her body into his. Heat curled low in her belly and her nipples stabbed against her nightgown.
It astonished her how easily desire kindled in her body.
“Not yet,” he murmured against her mouth, biting into her soft lower lip. “I was too unrestrained with my passions and—”
“You were wonderful,” she rebutted. “And it has been three days since we made love.”
He smiled. “And we’ll wait a few more.”
She kissed his mouth again, wanting to assuage the desire rising inside. “Nicolas—”
“You were sweetly innocent, and I did not temper my passions. I should have been more considerate of your sensibilities and your body’s limitations. Being lost in your taste and scent is not an excuse.”
“I enjoyed everything,” she said huskily.
“Of course you did, I am an excellent lover,” he said with a roguish smile of such beauty, her breath audibly hitched.
Since the first night they made love, he crept into her room every evening. They would laugh, talk, play games, and read to each other. When their playful kisses exploded in raw passion, despite the arousal in her body, she had been too sore to tumble into bed with him. That very first night, he had taken her four times before he had discreetly left her room with the breaking dawn. The next morning there had been red strawberry marks everywhere on her body—breasts, stomach, and thighs. And her mouth had been swollen from his