Snowed In For Christmas: A Fun Feel-Good Holiday Romance Novel - Kimberly Krey Page 0,36
release your hands and I’m not willing to do that just yet.”
Ivy shook her head as the piece started to itch her face. “Hurry, hurry, it feels awful!”
“Alright then.” He lowered his head then, bringing his face to hers. Her heart sputtered out of beat. She was just about to ask him what he was doing when she felt his lips part slightly at her cheek. He pinned the strand between his lips, then lifted himself away from her and released it with a small push of air.
“There you go, princess. Shall I feed you grapes next? Fan your face while you recline before the fire?”
She grinned, loving this playful side of him. The side that made her feel as if he was hers and she was his and that nothing could possibly separate them. A recollection came to her then, of the moment she’d wanted to speak up earlier.
“Easton?” she said, daring herself to be brave. To chance ruining everything. “I…”
He lifted a brow. The expression made him look just like a dashing actor on the big screen. “Yes?”
Anxiety shot through her in the quiet pause. Maybe telling him wasn’t the best way. Perhaps showing him would be better. “I don’t want any grapes,” she said. “Or the fan. But there is something I would like.” Arms still pinned to her sides, she moved her gaze, very pointedly, to his mouth.
Ivy could hardly believe she’d said what she had. It sounded more forward than she’d imagined, and it too, had taken a level of bravery to voice. But as Easton narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on her mouth in return, she knew she’d said the perfect thing.
He lowered his head to hers and paused once their lips were all but touching. Ivy released a shallow breath, wondering if he’d wait like he had before, perhaps start off with another round of testing kisses. But he moved right in instead, pressing a long, fervent kiss to her lips. She’d asked him to kiss her, after all, and it seemed he planned to deliver with a flourish.
She reveled in the warm, measured weight of him as he kissed her again. And then again. The short facial hair around his lips only added to the sensation, giving life to Easton’s rugged appeal. His scruff might be rough like sandpaper, but his lips were smooth, soft, and oh so pleasing.
With his hands at her wrists, Easton lifted her arms at either side, then slipped his fingers through hers and kissed her again. And again.
So good.
He moved his attentions along her jawline next, pressing hot kisses in a trail to her earlobe, then down her neck, where he circled the hollow of her throat.
“Mmm…” he rasped, the deep sound causing a thrill of its own.
With what felt like slow deliberation, Easton unlocked his fingers from hers and traced his hands, ever so gently, down her inner arms, leaving a trail of delicious heat in his wake.
Goosebumps rippled over her skin.
His touch drifted off as he rounded the bend in her arms, then picked back up as he cupped her hips, his warm grip urging her closer still.
Ivy used her free hands to explore the hair at the back of his head, gripping at the bearskin rug with the other. She’d never felt such bliss, and it seemed her body could hardly contain it.
Her breath turned jagged as the heat of his mouth trailed back up to her earlobe. He surprised her by taking a teasing taste, his teeth slightly scraping her skin, seeming to know it would send another thrill to rush through her.
“I don’t want you to worry,” he said under his breath, kissing the side of her neck, then teasing her skin with his short, scratchy scruff. “We don’t have to do more than this.”
He kissed her again while her mind reeled. In one sense Ivy was relieved that he wouldn’t press for more; she’d had some very uncomfortable moments with pushy men in her past. But she couldn’t help but wonder what urged him to make it known. He was a gentleman, that much was evident in his conduct, which could answer her question in and of itself. But perhaps he was already very certain that he didn’t want anything with her beyond their time in the yurt. If that was the case, he’d certainly not want to use her in such a way.
Stop, Ivy. Just enjoy this time. Wherever it might lead.