Mismatched Under the Mistletoe - Jess Michaels Page 0,27

you. All you have to do is just…trust me. And let me take care of you.”

Tears stung her eyes at those words. She reached up and traced his jawline with her palm, and he leaned into it with a shudder. “You have always taken care of me,” she murmured.

He nodded, the faint stubble rubbing her palm.

She stepped back and drew in a long breath, then pulled the straps of her chemise down and let it fall to the floor beside the dress. She was revealed, and she felt every inch of her skin as he gazed down over her.

“Christ,” he muttered, then leaned in and caught her cheeks, kissing her again.

This time there was desperation in his touch, hunger that she responded to with her own as he backed her toward the settee by the fire. He settled her onto it gently and then stepped away to shed his jacket, unwind his cravat and tug his shirt over his head.

She pushed up on her elbows and dazzled at what he revealed. Cav and Andrew couldn’t have been two more different men in appearance. Andrew had been thick and strong and built to carry a broadsword in wars of old. Cav would have been a general. He had a leaner strength, a finer build but no less compelling with his defined shoulders and tapered waist. His stomach muscles bunched as he dropped to his knees before the settee.

He smiled up at her as he loosened her bootstrap and pulled first one, then the other off, followed by her stockings. When he tossed them away, she was truly, fully naked, and she found herself settling her legs open a fraction. A delicate invitation for what was to come.

The reality of that was still shocking, but she wanted it more, not less.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, she thought almost more to himself than to her. Her eyes stung with those words anyway. It had been a long time since a man had whispered such a thing when she was wanton and vulnerable before him. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that very moment.

His fingers traced delicate patterns along her calves, trails that swooped higher and higher. When he cupped the back of her knee, she let out a hiss of pleasure that made his pupils dilate further. He pressed a palm against the inside of each of her thighs and widened her legs, opening her to him in a more intimate way.

She turned her head into her shoulder as he stared at her, wondering what he thought. Wondering what he would do next. He pressed his thumbs to her outer lips and she ground against him out of instinct. Then he peeled her open.

The warm breeze of the fire brushed her sensitive sex, but it was swiftly replaced by the heat of his breath. She glanced down, mesmerized as he lowered his mouth and licked her.

She dug her fingers into his hair, lifting to his tongue as he swept it across her again. He watched her as he licked, and she gave him a show because she couldn’t do anything but. The sensation was too powerful for her to mince or pretend it didn’t move her. After so long, after receiving pleasure only from her hand, what he was doing with his lips and his tongue was overpowering.

He took his time, tasting and teasing, massaging her inner thighs as he delved her deeper into the madness of building pleasure. And just when she felt like she would be lost on these building waves forever, he pressed a finger to her entrance.

She froze, lifting up on her elbows to watch as he glided that finger inside. She flexed against him with a low moan, her back arching and her fingers clenching hard against the cushions as he slowly began to thrust into her body. He returned his mouth to her sex, but this time he was more focused. He no longer teased but put all his attention on her clitoris.

And when he began to suck gently, repeatedly, consistently, the pleasure that had been slowly meandering through her seemed to hit a tipping point. She ground hard against his finger and he added a second one, letting her long-neglected body adjust to the invasion even as he tongued and sucked her to the brink.

She was going to fall. She knew it. She reveled in that brief moment when the sensation crested, and then she tumbled into pleasure. Wave after wave of