A Woman Made for Pleasure

by Michele Sinclair

  Chase grinned and whispered into her ear, “I cannot guarantee the excitement of your days, but I promise you the evenings will forever be full of pleasure.”

  “How about stimulating?”

  “Very,” Chase said roughly, his pulse quickening.

  “And thrilling?”

  “Positively breathtaking.”

  “Promise?” she asked, lifting her face to favor him with a blindingly bright smile.

  “Yes, love. I promise,” he whispered as his lips closed roughly over hers, claiming them for his very own.

  Epilogue

  Chase stepped through the door into the dimly lit room. Despite the lack of light, he knew Millie was not there. His eyes darted toward the bedroom door. It was still locked. He tied his robe and went to the large glass doors that opened onto the balcony.

  Chase caught his breath as he stepped through. He never thought he would ever again see anything more lovely than Millie when she had walked to his side earlier that day. The ceremony had been small, with just close friends and family, and she had looked breathtaking. But as his gaze took in the ethereal creature before him, he knew he had been wrong.

  Millie’s hair hung down past her waist in waves of curls freed from their earlier constraints. The moonlight caught her face, highlighting the delicate cheekbones and perfectly shaped lips. He could barely think as he took in the tempting outline of her breasts, the pink erect nipples, and the dark triangle of black curls. He wondered if she knew how transparent her nightdress was and quickly decided never to tell her.

  Unaware of Chase’s presence, Millie leaned against the column as she looked out at the Chaselton lands. Then she heard the click of the balcony doors and twisted slightly to watch Chase approach. Her deep lavender eyes were big and questioning in the shadows. She turned away, giving Chase a view of her vulnerable nape and her shapely figure.

  He stepped in and hugged her from behind, nibbling at the inviting earlobe. “Why are you out here, love?”

  Millie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. She had thought to deal with her unease alone, but she had made promises today. Promises she believed in and would forever uphold. “I don’t think I can do this, Chase.”

  “Do what?” His question was casual as he continued kissing her neck and then her shoulders. Her scent was like the lavender of her eyes. Intoxicating.

  Millie twisted in Chase’s arms, and her eyes clung to his, imploring him to understand. “I cannot sleep in there. And I certainly cannot sleep with you in there,” she said, pointing at the wall concealing her bedroom.

  Chase frowned, not comprehending.

  Millie pursed her lips and tried again to explain. “That is your mother’s room. I have known your mother all my life. She befriended, believed in, and guided me. She is Lady Chaselton. That is her room, not mine. How can I possibly fill her shoes?” Tears started spilling. “There is no way I can sleep in there, Chase. Please do not ask it of me. I cannot do it.”

  Chase released a soft chuckle and hugged her gently to him. “Then you shall not.”

  Millie pulled back and wiped away her tears. Her eyes were very wide as she searched his face. “I won’t?”

  Chase smiled and brushed her lips with his own. “No, you won’t,” he whispered as he cradled the nape of her neck in his large hand and deliberately deepened the kiss.

  Millie shivered in response. She wanted to know where she would sleep, but she couldn’t find her voice as Chase began to expand his assault on her throat.

  A deep satisfaction swelled in Chase as he felt an undeniable wave of desire flare within her. Chase’s eyes burned with need. He caught Millie’s face between his palms and kissed her brow and the tip of her nose before capturing her mouth for a tender but possessive kiss.

  Instinctively Millie curled her arms around his neck and pressed in close as his tongue probed the warmth of her mouth. A moan escaped her lips as she met his passion with her own.

  His fingers closed around her in a crushing grip that spoke volumes about the fierce emotion coursing through him. Millie’s gasp only fueled the wave of desire exploding in his veins. Tonight he would make Millie his wife in every way.

  Chase’s lips never left hers as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the balcony doors. Millie tensed, but whatever she was going to say was lost forever as Chase continued to seduce her mouth in a slow, seductive, and mind-numbing kiss.

  He kicked open the door between their rooms and walked into his adjoining chambers. By the time he laid her down, crushing her into the soft bedding, Millie was barely aware of anything but him. She clutched his shoulders, her nails biting through his robe, and arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. Her body was eager to experience the incredible pleasure they had shared before.

  His hands began to shake as they found and massaged her breasts through the fabric of her chemise. He brushed his thumb across her nipples, teasing them until they hardened into taut nubs. Millie shivered and moaned aloud.

  “Chase, my God, what you do to me.”

  Chuckling, he whispered, “Millie, it is you who has no idea what you do to me. I am going to know every morsel of you before this night is through.” He leaned in and framed her face with his hands. “Tomorrow morning, you will no longer wonder whether you are truly Lady Chaselton.”

  Millie sighed, welcoming the gleaming possessiveness of his gaze. “I am not so sure, Chase. But I have no doubt whatsoever that I am yours.”

  Chase looked into her lavender eyes and swallowed. He was drowning in the love swimming in those purple pools. “I love you, Mildred Aldon Wentworth,” he whispered, and bent his head and kissed her with a slow, inviting passion that prevented either of them from further discussion.

  Slowly he exposed her bare skin as he began removing the delicate undergarment. His mouth was amazingly gentle as his tongue caressed every inch of skin he uncovered. She was so soft, so willing, and so responsive.

  He trailed kisses along her jaw and neck, working his way down. He cupped her soft, perfect breast in his hand and sucked on the nipple. It hardened instantly. “Millie . . .” Her name was a soft growl as he gently eased her gown completely off, dropping tender kisses across her silken abdomen.

  He removed his robe and forced himself to slow down. It had been a difficult feat to refrain from making love to her again until they were married. He was not going to rush things now that Millie was finally in his arms. The past few weeks had been hell—seeing her, knowing what it was like to touch her, but never being able to.

  Eager to further inflame her passion, Chase brushed his teeth lightly across the taut nipples. Millie arched her back as a pleasant tension began to build deep inside her. She reached for him with a hunger only he could satisfy. She ached to touch him and have him touch her.

  Chase could feel the curve of her hips press into his thigh and thought he would go out of his mind. He responded by moving his palm over the inside of her leg until he touched her damp softness. His hand possessively closed over her mound. Slowly he began stroking her in ways he knew would give her pleasure, teasing the areas where she was extra sensitive.

  Millie flinched in response, but she did not pull away. She stretched and writhed under his light caress. Chase was barely touching her, and at the same time tormenting her, creating a rising need within her.

  Chase let out a low, husky groan and entered her slowly with his finger. He could feel the heat of her, and he knew he would never have enough of this woman. Millie cried out softly when he at last eased a second finger gently inside her. He almost lost what was left of his self-control. She was tight, hot, and damp, and vibrating with liquid fire.

  “Millie . . .” His voice was heavy with passion as he moved his fingers within her snug channel. “My lovely little Millie, how I need you.” He slid his finger back out of the tight passage and used her own dampness to lubricate her small, swelling button of desire. Again he slowly eased his fingers into her and then out, paus
ing to leisurely tease her female flesh. He did it again. And again.

  Millie lifted herself against his hand, silently begging for more. Chase continued to stroke and tantalize her, riveted by her response. The delicious torment seemed to go on forever. Millie thought she would go mad. “Charlie, please. Oh, please . . .” she cried, clinging to him, pleading for more.

  Chase’s manhood ached with pent-up need. Each time she arched her back, her breasts rubbed against his chest, and it throbbed even more. The desire he had worked so hard to conceal on the days leading up to their wedding had created a sense of urgency and aching hunger in him that only Millie could relieve.

  He was shaking as his fingers urged her legs apart and he lowered himself over her. Straddling her hips, Chase stared down at her body, watching her chest rise and fall with her deep breaths. He had never experienced anything more rewarding in his life. “Millie, you are perfect.”

  Millie felt the hard heat of Chase’s shaft against her leg. She gasped and instinctively opened her thighs farther. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him toward her, urging him to make her his in every way.

  His desire had become painful, and he could no longer restrain his release. Positioning his hips above hers, he eased himself slowly and deeply into her warm softness. Millie met him with an upward thrust of her hips. They were finally one.

  He intended to go slow, but the sudden sensation of heat and tightness surrounding him was overwhelming. He plunged even deeper, sinking blissfully into the snug, wet channel of her body.

  Millie felt him retreat slightly and then drive back into her. Her hands trembled as she gripped his shoulders. She had never felt this way before. Last time, Chase had held back. But tonight he demanded all, and Millie responded by giving her body and soul to him. She rocked against him, taking him deeper and deeper inside her.

  Chase tried to control the depth of his steady thrusts, but Millie’s arms and legs gripped him. Her scent filled him, overwhelming his awareness. He plunged again, burying himself in her core, knowing that nothing in life would ever compare to making love with this woman.

  He reached between her parted thighs, found the point where his body joined hers, and touched the sensitive female flesh. Millie’s body clenched in reaction. She twisted beneath him as Chase doubled his sensual attack with kisses. Pulled into a vortex of sensation and passion, she started quivering uncontrollably, her muscles clenching and unclenching in small spasms. And then, with a soft exclamation, Millie surrendered to the convulsions as her body pulsated with much needed release.

  Hearing Millie call his name, Chase surged, climbing higher and higher. Suddenly the world exploded, and he felt himself shatter into a million pieces. Every muscle, every nerve, every part of his body exploded with spasms of sexual release. He knew he could never lose her. Ever. Only when he was with her did he feel whole. He sagged against her, releasing a triumphant sigh.

  For several minutes, only the sounds of deep breaths could be heard in the room. Both lay limp in each other’s arms, awed by what they had just shared.

  Gently Chase moved onto his elbows and looked down at Millie. Her dark hair was fanned out on the pillow, and the embers of their shared passion still kindled in her beautiful eyes. Her smile was soft and inviting, telling him in that timeless, feminine way she was his.

  “I will never be able to get enough of you.” His voice was thick and raw.

  “You promise?”

  And as he took her again to the heavens, Millie knew that indeed his promise to her was the same as hers to him. Love, now and forever.

  Please turn the page for an

  exciting sneak peek of

  Michele Sinclair’s next

  McTiernay historical romance,

  coming soon from Zebra Books!

  Caireoch Castle, 1316

  He was caught.

  And not just in any trap. It was one that held no escape.

  That he had not seen the blatant plot as it gradually ensnared him was humiliating enough, but that he was a McTiernay caught by a Schellden would be cause for derision he would suffer for several years—if not decades.

  Craig’s heated blue gaze darted to the curvaceous figure across from him. Far from apologetic, two large hazel eyes glared at him, finding no joy in the situation. Instead, the dark green depths flickered with accusations as the melted gold surrounding them shined with fury. Meriel correctly believed herself to be just as caught as he.

  Looking at her lightly clasped hands and slightly arched eyebrow, she appeared to be in a seemingly composed state. Most of the crowd surrounding them no doubt believed Meriel indifferent to their situation, for Laird Schellden’s daughter had always been a difficult person to read. People’s attention was usually focused on her twin sister—who never left a question in anyone’s mind as to her emotional state. It was just one of a myriad of characteristics that proved that while they looked alike, their personalities certainly were not.

  Meriel exhibited a limited number of emotions, but that did not mean those were the only ones she felt. She was a master at hiding her thoughts behind a facade of naïveté borne from genuine sweetness and reserve, but Craig McTiernay knew exactly what angry thoughts his best friend was thinking. In her mind, he was the dolt behind their current predicament.

  She had just warned him to be careful less than two days ago, but it was when everyone was preparing for the feast and visiting neighbors were creating chaos in the household. While most of the Schellden clan had given up trying to prove the feelings Craig and Meriel had for each another went far beyond that of friendship, a select few had not. Craig knew Meriel had been correct, but never had he dreamed that his sisters-in-law would resort to such subterfuge to support their false beliefs.

  Needing to look his accusers in the eyes, Craig turned his head slightly to the left and glared at the two women standing at the Great Hall’s head table. Raelynd was practically beaming with satisfaction. At least his brother Crevan, who was standing next to her, had the decency to look somewhat apologetic about his wife’s obvious handiwork. Laurel’s expression on the other hand was more reserved, but he knew she was involved. Too much finesse had been required to ensnare him and Meriel so publicly.

  For years, the sword dance had been a commonly held event at celebrations, but the simple dance had turned into something of a unique rivalry for the Schellden and McTiernay clans. Craig remembered the night the fun pastime evolved into a game of endurance. The music had started and several of both clans’ finest soldiers pounded the floor, deftly hopping between the quarters made by crossed broadswords, to the quick beat of the music. By the end of the lively song, only one McTiernay and one Schellden remained and both had refused to stop. After that night, the sword dance continued until someone was proclaimed the champion.

  That was until Craig’s eldest brother married Laurel.

  One year she actually challenged the men, stating that Highland women played the game of endurance every day with cooking, cleaning, and raising their young. And that night, the tradition evolved once again. Now the battle was between men and women. A custom that made its way to the Schellden clan after last year, when Raelynd and Meriel spent several weeks visiting the McTiernay home.

  So tonight, when Craig entered the Schellden Great Hall after successfully winning a game of horseshoes, he was not surprised to see the broadswords being laid out and eagerly joined the large number of people participating. Having been part of the humiliation created by Laurel’s first and surprisingly successful attempt at the dance, Craig had vowed never to be outlasted by a woman again. And he hadn’t. When the song ended, he was always among the few men who were still on their feet.

  Tonight, however, the goal had changed slightly, unbeknownst to him.

  “Just do it already,” Meriel hissed, recapturing his attention. She had somehow moved to be right in front of him. She was far from short, but she still had to crane her neck to look at him when standing this close. “And make i
t good, so that when it doesn’t work it will end all questions tonight and forever.”

  Craig’s eyes widened at the notion for he had originally planned to give her just a quick brotherly peck. But Meriel’s idea was a rather brilliant one. And what could it hurt? It was not as if they really did like each other and feared the emotional sparks a genuine kiss might cause. They were just friends! Sure, he had thought about it over the past year. Slim and delicate-looking, Meriel was exceptionally beautiful. But he had always known that the moment their relationship became anything more, the things he cherished the most—the qualities that made her so important to him—would be in jeopardy.

  Besides, desire was not prompting their current dilemma. Maybe he wasn’t caught in a trap. Perhaps he and Meriel had just been handed an opportunity to finally put persistent rumors to rest. Besides, he had heard from more than one source that Meriel, while not free with her body, was an excellent kisser. As her best friend, it was time he found out.

  Meriel had felt her jaw drop when she heard her sister Raelynd announce that the last woman and man standing would be rewarded with a kiss—from each other. Now that she was married, Raelynd had a penchant for seeing love everywhere. Their father, who had indulged them as children, continued to allow her sister’s whims today.

  Meriel knew she should have deserted the dance right then, but she had still believed Craig to be in the courtyard playing horseshoes. Besides, it had been some time since she had been kissed and the idea of possibly meeting someone new to pass the time with was appealing. That was until she saw both women and men drop out, feigning exhaustion, at an alarming rate. The reason why dawned on her just as the second-to-last woman ended her supposed attempt. Meriel halted immediately, but it was too late. She was already the last woman standing.

  Her eyes scanned the few men still competing and spotted Craig near the back, smiling at the crowd—and clueless.