Promises Reveal Read online

  He wished he had an ounce of artistic talent, because if he did he’d preserve the way she looked right now, eagerness clashing with innocence, passion overriding reserve. “What else do I make you want?”

  “You make me want to be wild.” Her lashes touched her cheeks in a moment of shyness, before lifting to reveal the desire deepening the blue of her eyes. “Very, very wild . . .”

  He made her feel wild? That little huskiness in her voice as she confessed was like the most vivid of rasps over his desire, sensitizing it to the tune of her voice, the scent of her skin. She took a deep breath. The twist of ribbon shimmered. Satin on satin. A gateway to heaven . . . He touched the fold with his finger, spread the tight circle until it encased his finger in a snug little hug. “Good thing I have a penchant for wild, then.”

  It came out more growl than drawl. Her tongue touched her lower lip in a flash of pink, leaving a hint of moisture. Brad licked his own lip, imagining it was hers. His cock throbbed as she did it again, indulging in a few imaginings of its own. Dropping his gaze, he could easily discern the pout of her nipples pressing up through the sheer gown. Sweet little nubs shining the same pink as the ribbon. He could already imagine how they’d melt against his tongue, tighten beneath his kiss, flush with her passion, beg for the graze of his teeth.

  “Yes, “she sighed, her index finger tracing the flat outline of his areola. With a glance up, she caught the direction of his interest. He expected her blush, but the seductive little twist that slid the gown to the left, almost but not quite baring her breast, that was a complete surprise. “It is.”

  A nudge sent the gown the rest of the way. “Playing for keeps?” he asked, pressing the engorged nubbin into the fullness of her breast.

  “Yes.”

  It came out a high-pitched squeak, inspiring another smile. When he pulled his hand away, her breast sprang back to its natural shape, quivering just a little. Just enough to coax the cup of his hand. The nipple was harder, redder. Pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger, he wrapped it around the base, pulling it tight. Her gasp whispered over his fingers. His cock jerked and stretched. She’d been watching him wrap her nipple.

  “There, pretty as a picture.”

  Despite the blush flooding her torso, she grinned and cocked her head to the side. “Don’t you want to unwrap your present?”

  Shit, maybe wishing away her shyness hadn’t been the best plan. Evie in the throes of exploration was as tempting as a hot summer day after a bitter cold winter. As seductive as the first moment of peace after a bloody battle. As potent as good whiskey on an empty stomach. And like the latter, she had a tendency to knock the sense right from his head. If she didn’t finish getting his shirt open soon, he was going to do something drastic—like rip it off.

  “Maybe I just want to wrap it tighter.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because you’ll like it.”

  And she did. The proof was in the way her cheeks flushed a brighter pink, the way her lip slipped between her teeth, and especially the way the sweet perfume of her arousal scented the air. Her nails curled into his chest, still not delivering the hard caress he needed. He tied off the knot, leaving her imprisoned by the erotic little ache.

  “Unbutton my shirt.” Her nails grazed his skin as she battled with the stubborn fastenings, teasing, tormenting with little touches when he needed full contact. Burning through his passion until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Three tugs and buttons flew across the room, plunking off the wood floor. Evie stared at him in surprise, eyes wide, mouth open. With a growl, he dragged her hand against his chest. “Touch me right, damn it.”

  “I don’t know what that is!”

  With his hand over hers, he showed her. It didn’t take her long to pick up what he wanted. Her nail raked his nipple. Lightning shot from his chest to his cock, tearing a hole through every barrier he’d built. His teeth clenched on a snarl as she jerked her hand away, depriving him of what he needed. Capturing it, he brought it back, pressing her palm to his skin, holding it there as the heat seeped beneath the surface. And she let him, not moving, not fighting, not giving. Just letting him while she watched him with big blue eyes.

  Shit. Tipping his head back, Brad took a steadying breath. He was supposed to be seducing his wife, not scaring her. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Losing control. Something he never did. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll be like that when it matters.”

  “Doesn’t it all matter?”

  “Yeah.” He shifted his position until he was over her. Her breasts with their hard little nipples pressed into his skin, the left a little harder than the right. Working his knee between her thighs, he made a place for himself. “It all matters.”

  He’d do well to remember that. For all her curiosity, Evie was a virgin and if he didn’t get his reactions to her under control this would be the only time he’d get near her lithe body. And that would be a crime, because once was never going to be enough for him to sate the lust she inspired in him. Had always inspired in him. He realized now that there was no longer a reason to keep his distance. He might have never approached her if things had stayed as they were, but they hadn’t, and now she was his, about to become his.

  He fingered the ribbon binding her nipple. “When I take this off, you’re going to be very sensitive.”

  A twist of her torso put tension on the satin. She gasped, “I already am.”

  He pulled it just that much tighter, knowing from her frown that she’d crossed that line where pain and pleasure met. And she wasn’t backing off. Shit. It was his turn to groan. She was going to burn him alive. “Good.”

  His cock brushed the inside of her thigh. Even through the layers of cloth, the contact seared.

  Sprinkling kisses down her cheek, the side of her neck, along the line of her collarbone before working back inward, he gentled her into the thought of his mouth on her chest. The collar of her gown got in his way. “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

  “I was going to say the same thing about you.”

  “Not planning on being shy?”

  She shook her head, her fingers linking behind his neck. “I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve spent a year painting you in parts. I think I’ve earned the full effect, don’t you?”

  He remembered the painting. “The full effect might be more than you bargained for.”

  Her smile was as soft as her touch. “I can feel you against me, Brad. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you disliked about that painting.”

  She might have an idea, but the reality was bound to startle, and he didn’t want Evie startled. He wanted her like this. Strong, curious, and passionate. “And here I thought the reality was going to come as a shock.”

  “Oh, it’ll likely be a shock, but not a completely unexpected one. Most things in nature are in proportion.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “But you didn’t paint me in proportion.”

  She shrugged. “I was hesitant to guess.”

  “So you did what?”

  “I transferred the . . . appendage from my friend’s baby.”

  Parts. Bits and pieces. She’d created him from fragments. He dropped his forehead to hers. No wonder she had suspicions about who he really was. She’d never really seen the carefully constructed image he’d presented. “You could have given me pants.”

  “That wouldn’t have accomplished my goal.”

  “Shocking your family?”

  “Convincing them I couldn’t be trusted out of their sight.”

  She brushed her thumbs over his nipples, her gaze narrowing when he jerked and his breath hissed in.

  “That feels good?”

  “Damn good.”

  She did it again, her eyes dark with curiosity and her own budding passion. “Like what?”

  Shit, he hadn’t even kissed her breasts and she had him almost to the point of no return. The next pass brought a growl of plea
sure to his throat. Reaching down, he gathered up the skirt of the gown. There were volumes of material. Yards of fabric that tested his patience. “Give me a second and I’ll show you.”

  “Don’t hurry on my account.” Her head cocked to the side as she used the side of her nail against the hard nub. “I like this.”

  If she thought she was in control, she had another think coming.

  “And I like this.” This was the hard ridge of his cock against her softest flesh. This was his mouth on hers, catching her gasp, giving it back in a soft “yes” as her lips relaxed, parted, and then welcomed the thrust of his tongue, lying passively as she learned the movements and then shifted beneath him. Her nails bit into his pectorals. He pulled the gown up, flicking her bound nipple with the side of his thumb. She arched and cried out.

  “That’s it.” He nipped her lower lip, gathering up her gown. “That’s what I want.” Another flick, another pleasured cry. “Just give me that.”

  And she did, copying every move he made, reflecting back to him the desire in which he wanted to drown, luring him into deepening the kiss, challenging his control with the creative side of her nature. When she caught his tongue between her lips and sucked, he swore and tore his mouth away.

  “Witch.” He finally reached the end of the fabric. “Lift up.”

  With only the slightest hesitation, she did, clinging to his shoulders like he was all that she trusted, whispering as the gown floated to the floor, “You like me naked.”

  He suppressed his grin. “What makes you so sure?”

  “I felt your . . . cock twitch.”

  Just the word on her perfect lips was enough to bring him to the edge. “Where the hell did you hear that word?”

  Eyes crinkling in amusement, she trailed her fingers up over his nape to twine in his hair. “I’m twenty-five, Brad, and men aren’t as careful as they could be when it comes to their speech. Yourself included.”

  “I’ll be careful tonight.” Very careful not to scare her. Careful not to forget himself, but it was going to be damn hard with her looking the way she did right now, all pink and white, her breasts hard tipped with passion, the left bound to his will.

  “Not too careful. I hope. I want to have fun.”

  So did he. Every bit he could wrestle from this night. Evie was like no one he’d ever known before. Indulging himself with her wasn’t safe, wasn’t sensible, but when she drew her foot up his calf under his pant leg, her expression absorbed as she memorized the feel of his skin, the changing pressure of his cock, he didn’t care. No matter what the price for this time with Evie, he’d pay it, because this was different, unique, and he’d be damned if he’d throw it away. “Then you might want to hold back a bit on the words you use.”

  “Why?” Adjusting the angle of her hips until the ridge of his cock was intimately nestled, she gave a luxurious sigh and pressed up. “I think you like it when I use that word.”

  Like it? He dropped his forehead to hers, laughter rippling from him in a soft wash of amusement. “Evie darling, I’m so far past ‘like,’ it’s a wonder I can still talk.”

  “It’s almost over?”

  If he’d taken her chocolate away, she couldn’t have sounded more disappointed. “Not by a long shot. I have a lot of advice to work through.”

  “Advice?”

  He inched lower. “According to what I’ve been told, virgins are shy, timid creatures who fear the pleasure of a man’s touch.”

  “You thought because I was a virgin, I’d be stupid?”

  He laughed again at her indignation. “Prospective grooms are treated to a lot of advice.”

  “And you listened?”

  “A smart man always listens.”

  “So what was the advice?”

  “Keep the lights off.”

  Her palms cherished the planes of his chest. Her fingertips discovered the curve of muscle, the rough edges of bullet wounds, and the longer, narrow slashes of the whip, scars that would later bring questions but right now did nothing more than cause a slight pause. Her “Absolutely not” made him smile.

  “Go fast or slow, touch or don’t touch. Feed alcohol—”

  She gave him the bite of her nails. “That you tried.”

  He kissed his way down to the valley between her breasts, nerve endings snapping to attention as her nails dragged up to his shoulders in a sensual tease.

  He couldn’t resist giving the ribbon a little tug. “Feed chocolate.”

  “Oh, lands!” She caught her breath. “I would have liked that.”

  The spot two inches down from her breastbone was sensitive. He lingered there, sucking at the taut flesh, absorbing the resulting shiver against his open mouth before stroking his tongue over the rise of goose bumps. Her high-pitched little sigh drove him crazy. Pressing into her heat, he did it again, feeling cheated when this time she only caught her breath. He wanted that sigh, that proof of her submission. He wanted the barrier of his pants gone from between them. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Moving down her body, gritting his teeth when it required he leave the intimate hug of her groin, he continued with his litany. “I’m also supposed to ignore your protests.”

  Her fingers wove through his hair. “At your peril.”

  He smiled. “Encourage your wildness.”

  “That you’ve done.”

  The well of her navel drew his attention. “Not enough.”

  Her abdominal muscles rippled at the graze of his teeth, sucked in at the probe of his tongue. Her hands fisted in his hair as he continued his journey. He made it another inch before her fingers tugged. “What are you doing?”

  Looking up between her pert breasts, he stated the obvious. “Kissing you.”

  “My mouth is up here.”

  Those weren’t the lips he was interested in right now. “And I’ll get back to them in just a bit.”

  “I’m not sure . . .”

  He was. He nibbled his way lower, sliding his hand up her thigh, pressing outward. “Trust me, Evie darling. You want this.”

  With a breathless hesitancy she asked, “How do you know?”

  Her legs parted. He pressed a kiss to the top of her mound, the dark blonde hairs beneath tickling his chin, calling him to come play. Nuzzling his way down, he accepted the invite, pressing a kiss on the silken folds, steadying her through the shock with the press of his palm. “Because I’m going to drive you wild.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  She might be shocked, but she was interested. With a leisurely pass of his tongue, he took the indecision out of her hands.

  “Sweet, Evie.”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long. “Brace yourself. I’m going to do it again.” He suited action to words. “And again.”

  She gasped. The sheets rustled as she arched her hips up.

  “That’s it.” He smoothed his thumb across the swelling nub of her clit. “Make it easy for me.”

  She did, pulling his mouth closer, chasing that whisper of pleasure with everything in her.

  “Just like that.” With his thumb and forefinger he separated the outer lips, revealing the bundle of nerves within. Taking advantage of the position, he slipped his hands under her buttocks, sinking his fingertips into the lush curves as he held her to the tenderness of his kiss, the lash of his tongue, that first surge of heady passion.

  “Brad!”

  “Right here.”

  “It’s—”

  He stole the words from her throat with the stroke of his tongue, that sexy high-pitched sigh he sought, his reward. “Good.”

  “Yes.” She shifted into the experience, rocking with the rhythm he set. “Very, very good.”

  He sped things up, applying a bit more pressure, giving her a bit more friction, steadily driving her higher, listening for that one sound that signaled he’d found the perfect pressure, lingering when he got it, focusing his passion on her. Needing this for her,
for him. Needing to give this one time so maybe when he took later, the scales would balance. She whimpered and gasped. He growled and nipped. Another cry, another sigh. She was almost there.

  Reaching over, he grabbed the sponge from the small bowl on the bed stand. The scent of vinegar overrode the scent of desire. For a second he held the bit of sponge, debating. It would be so easy to forgo this step. So easy to fall into the role and to hell with the consequences. He imagined Evie round with child, allowed himself one small moment of joy, and then he squashed both the image and the emotion, his father’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears. With practiced efficiency, he eased the sponge into her tight sheath, irrationally resenting the scent, the act.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  He pushed the sponge high, holding it while the muscles of her channel clenched around his finger. She was so damn tight. So perfect. “Protecting you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He didn’t want her to. Brushing her hands aside, he nuzzled back in, distracting her with a series of kisses that expanded to a gentle suction, testing her readiness with another finger when her hips lifted in invitation.

  “Oh, dear heavens.”

  “Easy,” he murmured as she twisted away. She needed to be easy and let him make her ready.

  “You be easy!”

  Her heels dug into the mattress and she bucked as she fought the building climax, but she took all he offered with a hard clench and release that had him gritting his teeth. He couldn’t wait to be in her.

  “It’s going to be good, Evie.”

  “It scares me.”

  The whispered confession cut to his heart. Shit. Of course it scared her. She was new to this. To him. And he was supposed to be making it good for her. Containing the wild lust pounding through him, Brad backed his finger from her tight sheath, gentling his touch, his expression, as he came over her. At least he hoped to hell what he managed was gentle.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”