Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

She knew nothing of a man’s body or his needs, so in this past month she’d gone and spied on humans. More importantly on what they did at night. Her cheeks had flamed when she’d seen her very first naked man, but eventually the embarrassment had turned to raging curiosity, until the curiosity had turned to a violent aching. Because she’d desperately wanted what she’d seen them doing.

Hands shaking, she grabbed hold of his arm as the last bit of light slid into place. Their glittering, golden mattress awaited.

She wet her lips and counted the heavy rise and falls of his chest.

“I do not know if—”

Calanthe was never sure what he’d meant to say after that. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” And with strength born of desire, she yanked him on top of her as they fell upon the bed.

All she wanted now was to lose herself in the delirium of this delicious madness. Tomorrow her heart would shatter and ache and she’d never be the same again, but that was for tomorrow.

Crawling on top of him, she yanked at his jacket.

“My love,” he chuckled, “we do not need to do this quickly. There is time.”

“Not enough, Jericho.” Her mouth tipped into a quick frown as the truth threatened to weaken her resolve to not think about his leaving. “Never enough with you.”

Laughing, he sat up trying to help her get his clothing off, but she was so clumsy in her attempts that she was only making matters worse. At one point smacking her forehead against his as they both bent over to undo a button.

“Ow!” she growled, rubbing her forehead. “Damn, damn, damn…” she wrinkled her nose. “This is taking too bloody long. Off now.” And with that, she yanked her wand out of her hair and tapped it to their chests.

Why hadn’t she thought of that first? She rolled her eyes with laughter, and then stilled as it finally dawned on her that they were naked and she was straddling him.

“Calanthe,” he held her face in his, “you have never done this before, have you?”

“No.” Her nostrils flared with the admission. Her skin prickled because she felt something quite stiff and hard pressing against her thigh and she was certain it was not his leg. She’d seen those manly parts before. Through windows and had seen the excitement the woman evinced when said male part slipped into the female part. But right now, she was feeling more than just a little trepidation. Intimidated would be the proper word for it.

Cheeks flaming because her breasts were free and hanging and good gods, what had she been thinking? But then his warm hands were sliding up her back and she couldn’t help but sink into his touch and where there’d been shame, now there was heat.

A slow curling of it heating her bloodstream and making her whimper.

“Look at me, Calanthe,” he ordered.

And though she was still mortified, she did it. His smile was huge and then he was withdrawing from her, leaning back against the pillows and crossing his arms behind his head and she bit her lip because she wanted to beg him to touch her some more.

“I’m right here, love,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I want you to look at me while I look at you.”

Fingers of fire curled through her stomach and she fought the crippling shyness inherent in her, and stared at him. Her mouth dropped at the glory that was his nude body.

Jericho hadn’t seen sun in years, his skin was pale. But not sickly pale, luminescent. The moonlight that’d flown from his body into hers back at the glen, was right there beneath the surface of his flesh, highlighting the sculpted beauty of his chiseled stomach.

Unable to resist, she ran her finger along the sharp demarcations and felt a heady thrill when he hissed.

“Slowly, love, or I might not last,” he chuckled.

She licked her lips. His chest wasn’t massive as some of the lumberjacks she’d seen, but it didn’t need to be. She preferred him the way he was, lean and hard.

His arms were nice and thick, the biceps stretched tight as he flexed them behind his head. A light dusting of hair along his jawline beckoned her to touch again, but she wanted him to last. She wanted this to last.

“Gods, when you look at me like that,” he breathed.

“Like what?” she asked, confused.

“Like you’ve been drowning and I’m your raft.”

Stomach tickling, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I want to see you, Jericho.”

He chuckled. “You have been, love.”

Wiggling on his legs, reminded again of that hard male flesh scraping along her upper thigh, she shook her head. “No, I want to see all of you.”

At her words, he sucked in a sharp breath. “Then crawl back just a little,” he ordered with a voice grown suddenly husky.

Calanthe was shaking, and she wasn’t really sure why, all she knew was that he made her feel confusing, wonderful, deliciously wicked things. Leaning back, she stopped when he moaned.

“What? Did I do something?” she asked, not wanting to hurt him.

Panting, he squeezed his eyes shut. “No, love. You didn’t hurt me.”

Frowning, because his moan had definitely sounded in pain, she nodded softly and proceeded to lean back more slowly and with more gentleness this time.