Benedict's Challenge - Carole Mortimer Page 0,25
chill of the hallway seemed to penetrate to her bones. “Please, Benedict.”
It was impossible for Benedict to refuse the invitation when he could see Chloe was already feeling the effects of being away from the warmth of the fireside.
Well…perhaps not impossible. He had already apologized, after all. But the temptation to enter Chloe’s bedchamber again was beyond Benedict’s ability to resist.
The memory of what had happened in this room several evenings ago caused his cock to once again engorge and throb. A reaction which had become normal whenever he was anywhere near the beautiful Chloe.
He had kept that arousal under control while they ate dinner earlier, out of awareness they were not alone, but the warmth and intimacy of Chloe’s bedchamber was once again weaving its sensual spell over his senses.
He gave a low groan the moment he realized the flames from the fire allowed him to see the shadowy figure of Chloe’s naked body through her night rail and robe.
She looked at him with concern. “Are you quite well, Benedict?”
How did he answer such a question when the need to once again kiss and touch this beautiful woman now raged through him with the force of a forest fire he had once seen when visiting Canada? It was a fire that destroyed all in its path, which, in Benedict’s case, was the last of his self-control.
“I apologize in advance this time,” he rasped as he stepped forward to put his arms about her slender waist and pull her toward him. “Because I am about to kiss you again,” he explained at she stiffened warily in his arms.
Her tension eased. “You never need to apologize for doing that,” she assured him warmly.
“I might not be able to stop at kissing you,” he admitted heavily.
Chloe continued to smile. “I might not wish you to.”
Benedict gave another groan. “You are doing nothing to assist my self-control.”
She tilted her head. “Do you wish me to assist it?”
“No,” Benedict answered truthfully. He held her gaze as he slowly lowered his head, her lids fluttering closed the moment his lips claimed hers.
Chloe had been longing, aching, to again feel the wonder of the strength of Benedict’s arms about her and his mouth against hers.
Her hands caressed the hardness of his chest before her fingers clung to the width of his shoulders, her heart leaping and then soaring at the first touch of Benedict’s lips on hers. The kiss became deeper, more intensely arousing, the moment his tongue parted and then thrust inside the heat of her mouth to seek out and set light to every sensitive nerve ending.
Chloe’s arms clung about his neck as he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.
He placed her down on the sheet before straightening, his gaze holding hers prisoner as he slowly unfastened and then removed his robe, tossing it aside before moving to kneel on the bed beside her, wearing only a nightshirt. “Sit up,” he instructed huskily.
Chloe felt no hesitation to do as he asked. Nor did she offer a single word of protest when Benedict removed her night rail and robe.
She began to tremble at the way Benedict’s eyes darkened as he stared at her naked breasts, that trembling becoming a heated ache as his gaze lowered to take in the gentle slope of her abdomen, the golden curls over her mound, and the shapeliness of her slender legs.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You are beautiful all over.” He lowered his head.
His lips against her throat caused her to tremble.
The heat of his mouth on her engorged nipples, one after the other, caused her to groan and arch.
His breath against the skin above her navel kindled a fire deep in her belly.
The sweep of his tongue against the hard nubbin nestling amongst the golden curls covering her mound made her tremble and groan, and her spine to arch.
Chloe became lost in that sea of sensation. Heat and pleasure—so much pleasure!
“Benedict!” she cried out as the roughness of his tongue moved lower to lap up the juices flowing freely from her channel. “Please. I need— I want— Yes…” Her words became a long and keening moan as Benedict’s fingers began to caress and stroke her nubbin to allow his tongue to continue to lick and suck on the lips of her channel.
She moved restlessly, desperately, wanting, needing— She had no idea what she needed, only that the torment of emotions had become too much, too intense, too—
“Come for me, Chloe,” Benedict rasped.
Her lids