The Venetian's Proposal. Lee Wilkinson
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‘Goodnight, Nicola.’
It was the first time he’d used her name.
Fascinated, she watched his mouth frame the syllables, and knew she wanted him to kiss her. Needed him to kiss her.
As though in answer to that unspoken need his hands closed around her upper arms and, drawing her towards him, he covered her mouth with his.
Though there was nothing diffident about it, his kiss was light, almost experimental, as though he was holding back to calculate her reaction before he decided exactly how to continue.
But once again her knees turned to water and her very bones seemed to melt, so that she was forced to lean against him for support.
His arms went around her, and as her lips parted helplessly beneath his he deepened the kiss.
It was like a brilliant flash of light, showing up both past and future, a revelation that was followed by a deep, black velvet darkness.
When he took her hand and led her into her room, closing the door behind them, she made not the slightest protest, conscious only of him and the need he had aroused.
Setting her back to the panels, one hand on the warmth of her nape, he bent to kiss her again while his free hand began to smooth over her slender figure: the small waist, the flare of her hip, the curve of her buttocks.
After a while the silk chiffon became an unwelcome barrier and, unzipping her dress, he eased it off her shoulders, allowing it to fall at her feet. Then his lips left hers to sensuously explore the line of her collarbone and the smooth skin of her shoulder.
When they reached the tender junction where neck and shoulder met, his kisses changed to little nibbling bites that made her stomach clench and her toes curl.
His mouth returning to hers, he unclipped her strapless bra and, cupping one of her small, firm breasts, brushed his thumb over the nipple.
While she was still struggling to cope with the sensations he was provoking, he bent his head and, having laved the other erect nipple, took it into his mouth and suckled sweetly.
She was suddenly into sensual overload, the pleasure so intense that she gave a little moan and, running her fingers into his dark hair, held his head away from her breast.
A moment later she was swept up in his arms and carried to the bed. The only light was from the street outside, but in the gloom she saw the gleam of his eyes as he laid her carefully on top of the covers and sat down beside her to take off what remained of her clothing.
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