Devil in Spring (The Ravenels #3) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,83

exciting, his aroused flesh jutting against her stomach and between her thighs. As she writhed upward into the stimulating pressure, she felt as if butterflies were dancing and fluttering inside.

Gabriel breathed as if he were in torment, claiming her mouth with long, fevered kisses, murmuring darkly as his hands roamed over her. “Your body is so exquisite . . . so strong and soft . . . the way it curves here . . . and here . . . God, I want you so much . . . I need more hands to feel you with.”

If she’d had the breath, she would have told him that he was quite dangerous enough with two.

Wanting to feel his skin, she tugged at his clothes. He moved to help her, although the process was complicated by his reluctance to stop kissing her for more than a few seconds at a time. One garment after another was flung over the side of the bed, until his naked body was revealed, flushed and golden, his torso smooth except for his hair-roughened chest and groin.

After risking a glance at the startling sight of his erection, Pandora’s stomach clenched with nerves, and she pressed her face against his shoulder. Once, on one of their rambles around the estate, she and Cassandra had glimpsed a pair of small boys splashing in a shallow creek, while their mother, a tenant farmer’s wife, watched over them. The boys had been naked and hairless, and their private parts had been so innocently small as to be hardly noticeable.

This, however, would have been noticeable at a hundred yards.

Gabriel’s hand came to her jaw and nudged her to meet his gaze. “Don’t be afraid,” he said thickly.

“I’m not,” she said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. “I was only surprised because . . . well . . . it’s not like a little boy’s.”

Gabriel blinked, and amusement deepened the creases at the outer corners of his eyes. “It is not,” he agreed. “Thank God.”

Taking a deep breath, Pandora tried to think past the attack of nerves. He was her husband, and a beautifully made man, and she was determined that every part of him would be dear to her. Even this rather intimidating part. No doubt his former mistress would have known exactly what to do with it. The thought awakened Pandora’s competitive instincts. Now that she’d asked him to discard his mistress, she could hardly prove herself a poor replacement.

Taking the initiative, she pushed at his shoulder, trying to urge him onto his back. He didn’t budge, only gave her a quizzical glance.

“I want to look at you,” she said, pushing again.

This time he rolled easily, lying down with one muscular arm curled behind his neck. He looked like a lion sunning itself. Propping herself up on an elbow, Pandora set a tentative hand on his midriff, the flesh lean and tightly knit with muscle. She leaned over him to nuzzle the coarsely silky fleece on his chest. His breathing changed as she used the tip of her tongue on a flat male nipple, raising a tiny, diamond-hard point. When he offered no objections, she continued to explore him, trailing the backs of her knuckles to the sleek line of his hip, and down toward his groin, where the sun-colored skin became silkier and warmer. As she reached the verge of softly springy curls, she hesitated and glanced up at his face. The trace of a smile had vanished. His color had heightened, and his lips had parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t.

For such an articulate man, Pandora thought wryly, her husband had certainly chosen the wrong time to keep his mouth shut. A few instructions, a suggestion here or there, would not have gone amiss. But Gabriel only stared down at her hand as if spellbound, and breathed like a broken steam boiler. He seemed positively helpless with anticipation.

Some mischievous corner of Pandora’s heart relished the discovery that this large, virile creature wanted her touch so badly. She scratched her fingertips lightly through the coarse, silky hair, and the heavy shaft twitched against the taut surface of his stomach. A faint groan came from over her head, while the powerful muscles of his thighs contracted visibly. Feeling braver, she scooted down on the bed and delicately grasped the rigid length of him. It was as hot as a fire-iron, and very nearly as hard. The skin was satiny and fever-colored, and judging from the way he shivered,