Page 44 of Wed By Proxy

Whose stupid fucking idea had kissing been, he wondered as he braced himself to withstand it without exploding. To his consternation, she jumped out of her chair and rounded the table to sit on his lap. Immediately, his brain leapt to the last time they had been in this position. He flushed, and that was before he noticed her practically bared breasts in his face. Gods. Tipping his head back, he nearly jolted out of the chair at the feel of her breath on his lips. He couldn’t even believe she would even want to kiss him after the way he had treated her last time, like an ill-mannered brute. He remembered sweeping the remains of their supper onto the floor and spreading her out on the table before him, and his throat went dry. Sadly, she chose that moment to lift her face back from his and frown at him.

“What is it?” he rasped.

“This may sound odd but…” She hesitated.

She didn’t want to kiss him. He swallowed down his disappointment. It was hardly surprising. “What is it?”

“Can you — can you take your tunic off this time?” she asked wistfully.

Guy stared at her. “My tunic?” he repeated blankly.

“So I can feel your bared chest against mine. When we kiss,” she explained. Her face was red as a beacon now. “I really wanted to the other night, but you kept your clothes on.” When he didn’t move at once, she added hopefully, “Please, Guy.”

What? He gulped and started unfastening the laces at his chest. His fingers felt like thumbs and she had to help him maneuver the garment over his head. He had no sooner discarded it over his shoulder than her hands were running over the expanse of his chest. He had to bite back an exclamation at the feel of her hands skimming over him.

“You’re so well-built,” she murmured admiringly. “I like this.”

He glanced down. His chest hair? Is that what she meant? He watched her lightly scratch her fingers through the dark scattered hair, and felt speech was beyond him. Her gaze flickered up to meet his, and then slowly, deliberately she inched forward and pressed her mostly exposed bosom to his wide, muscular chest. Guy held his breath, as she expelled hers in a dreamy sigh.

“I knew it would feel nice,” she said, then placed her hands gently on either side of his face. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she said, perhaps realizing he needed a warning. He gave a short nod, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

Then her lips were against his so soft and sweet, that Guy’s world tipped sideways. He breathed in through his nose and willed himself to lightly return the pressure of her lips and not do anything else. Then he felt it. Her little tongue licked along his bottom lip, and Guy’s eyes shot open. What? Surely, she did not mean to deepen the kiss? Then she did it again. He gasped and Mathilde’s tongue darted into his mouth. Guy’s brain shut down altogether.

One of her arms was tight around his neck. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. She was whimpering into his mouth, and the world just did not exist for him outside of the hot, wet slide of their kiss. The soft swell of her cleavage gently rubbing against his chest was not enough. He managed to insert one hand between them, and grabbed Mathilde’s already plunging neckline, dragging it down until he could feel those pink little nipples against his chest. Mathilde gasped, but even his lust-addled mind could tell it was with pleasure and not shock.

“Yes, Guy,” she moaned, dragging her hard nipples through his chest hair. This was what she had wanted? Nice was not a strong enough word for it.

He was just considering how much of a wrench this gown would need to rip it clean off her, when she drew back, her eyes unfocussed and her breasts heaving. “Time for the next hand,” she quavered and went to lift off his lap. His hands tightened at her waist, preventing it, keeping her squarely in his lap. “Guy?” she asked uncertainly.

He drew in a deep breath. “Next hand?” he repeated blankly.

“Of Huntsman Bold,” she reminded him.

It wasn’t Huntsman Bold, but at this precise moment he couldn’t remember the exact name. Instead he licked his lips, still staring at hers in unspoken invitation. “You want to play cards?” He all but growled the words.

“Don’t you?”

Slowly, deliberately he shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, then…” She lowered her voice. “You want to carry on … kissing.”

He shook his head again.

“No?” she squeaked. “What then?”

“Can’t you tell?” He rocked his hips. She had to feel it. His cock underneath her was like a steel bar.

“But you said you didn’t want to bed me,” she pointed out breathlessly.

“I lied.”

“Oh!”

“What about you?”

“I … yes, of course! Though…” she hesitated, and Guy steeled himself for some condition. “If you could kiss me too, that would be nice.”

“That I can do,” he said, swinging her up as he lifted out of the chair.