Lady Sophie's Christmas Wish - By Grace Burrowes Page 0,70

had fisted in his hair.

He trailed his mouth lower, settling his lips over one puckered nipple then the other. She wrapped her legs around his back and used her fingers to trace his ears.

“I like that, what you’re doing with my ears.”

“You have lovely ears.”

He smiled against her breast until she tugged on his earlobe, which created a resonating tug in his groin.

“Sophie?”

“Hmm?”

He went still above her. “I want you.”

The words weren’t said with any mad passion. He’d stated a simple, stark, undeniable reality, one more pressing by the instant.

“I want you too, Vim.”

She brushed a hand down his chest and wrapped her fingers around the length of his cock. “I want this part of you to join us together. I want to feel you inside me.” She squeezed him a little, and Vim felt it in all manner of wonderful places.

“Guide me, Sophie.”

She frowned and made no move to join them.

“Show me where you want me, love.” And then she seated him snugly against the damp, hot opening to her body, her hand falling away, her body still.

“You’re ready for me.”

“I have waited a long time for you, Vim Charpentier. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Words to make love by. Vim flexed his hips forward just a bit, just enough to effect that first, lush sensation of penetration.

“God in heaven, Sophie…” She was hot, wet, gloriously tight, and wise enough not to do anything to threaten his tenuous control. He advanced again and did not retreat, savoring the sensation of her body gloving his.

“You’re all right?”

She nodded and opened her teeth against his shoulder. She didn’t bite him, exactly, but the sensation helped keep him from completing their joining in one hard, luscious thrust.

He moved again, slowly, gaining just a little more depth, losing a little more of his sanity.

“More?”

Another nod, and the sensation of Sophie’s hand gripping his buttock hard. He managed it like that, a little advance then a mental inventory of Sophie’s reaction to it. She gripped his backside, then his hair, arched her breasts into his chest, ran her foot along the back of his knee.

And then, when he was just shy of his goal, she took a funny, hitching breath.

“Sophie? You’re all right?” He pressed his cheek to hers then drew back. “My dear, are you crying?”

“No, not like that.”

“Have I hurt you?” He could not stand it if he had. He started to withdraw, slowly, carefully, but she locked her legs around him.

“I didn’t know how it would be.”

He paused, keeping his cheek to hers. “How it would be?”

“I can’t… it’s wondrous. Sweet, dear, so intimate… glorious.”

Ah, God… He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pressed her face to his shoulder. He could feel her crying, feel it with his body, because he was inside her and around her and pressed to her over much of his body.

So intimate, she’d said. Glorious.

“Move with me, love.”

He kept his pace slow, so she could follow his rhythm. Her focus was a palpable thing, gathering momentum as her body learned the give and take from his. When she was moving easily with him, the tempo picking up moment by moment, he dropped his head so his mouth was near her ear.

“Let it happen, Sophie. Take flight.”

He felt the instant she stopped focusing on timing and movement and fell helplessly under the onrush of sensation.

“Vim…” His name on her lips was a whispered plea, one that had him driving into her in tight, hard strokes while she shook and clung and convulsed around him. She gave herself up to it, keening against his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust until she was panting and spent beneath him.

When he felt her hands slips from his body, when her legs untwined to rest passively at his flanks, Vim levered up on his arms. By the light of the single candle, he could see a rosy flush on her cheek and tears yet leaving a sheen on her eyes.

She reached up and brushed his hair back. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You say, ‘Vim, give me a minute to recover my wits, and then do that again, please, only better.’”

She blinked, and then a slow, sweet smile bloomed on her lips. He lowered himself down onto her so they were chest to chest, as close as two people could be.

He felt her fingers stroking over the hair at his nape. “Vim, give me a minute to recover my wits, and then do that again, please, but