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“I missed you…” Cullen’s murmur trails warmly down her neck, his body firmly pressing her into the unyielding oak door.
“We’ve been in the same room…” Annabel tilts her head, her smile growing as he takes her hint and begins to kiss his trail back up. His lips drag slowly over her skin until he reaches a point he desires to nip and nibble, finding the spot under her jaw that sends a hum of pleasure through as he sucks. Longing travels straight to throb in her groin.
“Yes,” he rumbles, his kisses turning feather light as they travel up to her ear. “And yet…” his words dissolve into further kisses as the hands that pin her hips slide slowly down to clasp and knead at her rear.
Stringed music and the bard’s muffled melody filter from the great hall just beyond the door where she’s been so crudely pinned. She can hear the undertone of conversation, the sprinkles of polite laughter, and the deep booming laugh of Bull. They should be out there… Should be wowing the nobility in their finery…
“Cullen… you know neck kisses will drive me crazy… I… ah, I won’t be held responsible for what happens if you keep-“ her voice breaks off with a sharp gasp as he sucks at her thundering pulse and any merge scrap of control she’d had evaporates with the pleasure he sends singing through her.
“I know,” he chuckles against her ear, its baritone sinfully rich and deviant.
That’s it. That’s all it takes for her to forget every duty Josie had tried to install in her for this gala. She has never been one for self-restraint or noble gatherings anyway.
Hitching her thigh over his hip Annabel scrabbles to bring his lips against hers to trade kisses that are hot and fervent. For a few moments, they’re both lost to the intensity of it, the soaring heat that rises in their skin, the slide of tongues and supple flesh along with the tiny hungry nip of teeth which spikes exhilaration through their veins.
One of her hands slips down the front of his smalls, cupping softly around him and dragging down his throbbing shaft. He pants against her, his own hand sneaking up to pull and tug fiercely at the laces on her bodice until they snap. She spills free with a welcoming giggle that devolves into a quiet throated moan as his heavy hand cups round one breast, squeezing and kneading as their lips do the same.
The inferno blazes as his buttons are torn loose and he paws at the fabric that dares keep her bare skin from his touch. She’s forced to break away, to try to breathe, only for his body to crash into hers once more, making her gasp and the door rattle loudly as he slams her into it.
Some wayward corner of her mind hears the leery cheer of the chargers, and the encouragement of Bull to ‘go get ‘im boss’. Giggling she’s not in the least bit surprised when Cullen prises himself from her and the door with a low growl.
“What’s the matter, Commander? Don’t tell me your shy…” her coy singsong’s tone is designed to tease, to rile, and her delicate fingers hook over his waistband to tug him back against her.
“Perhaps…” he murmurs, his lopsided smirk suggesting anything but as his hands roam up her sides. Taking both breasts in his palms, his thumbs rub lazy circles over her nipples which start to stiffen under his deft touch until she’s humming for him. “Or perhaps I merely want all those sinful little gasps and erotic moans of yours all for myself…”
Chest heaving, she can hardly contain herself, the desire to have him lift up her skirts and simply fuck her, pound her into the wood to create their own carnal melody becomes all consuming. Grappling her hands around his neck she rakes her fingernails through his honey sweet curls, dragging his face, his lips back to hers.
“Fuck me,” it’s a command made on a hot breath of her lips before they crash into his.
Cullen doesn’t need convincing, hands already ripping, tugging fabric down over her hips. Spinning them both he pins her to the wall, letting her kick the pool of her skirt away as he throws off his jacket.
She feels the buckle of his trousers hit her foot as he drops them, but soon the slide of his hands up her thighs distracts her from all else. Then he’s lifting, then probing at her, both heated and wet to the touch, to the slide of skin on skin. And then he’s inside her, tearing a broken gasp of decadent pleasure from her chest as he buries himself to the hilt with one fluid rut.
The world falls away to become only the roll of his hips, each thrust burying him deeper than she knew possible, overwhelming her system with raw, uninterrupted, pleasure as he grunts and slams. Its primal and ravenous, a man taking a woman in the most brutish way possible, driving pleasure through her body with force and rapture, forcing epic moans from her with every masterful hit inside her.
It's too much, and yet it's not enough. It could never be enough as he stretches and fills her, consumes her. The pleasure too pure for this world and too primal for the next. It's perfection. He’s perfection and with every wanton roll of his hips, she lets him know as his name pants from her lips.
Crying out her fingers bite into his shoulders as she begins to come undone around him, by the repeated pound against that buried sweet spot which he knew drove pleasure careering wildly through her veins. With one last thrust, she feels his muscles pull and clench tight. Annabel follows suit, giving another louder cry as he groans and topples them both over the edge and into euphoric release.
The rock-hard muscles across his shoulders slacken under her fingers, as he lightly moans into her hair. She can feel his breath pant hotly against her skin and fears he might drop her any moment so is quick to shimmy off him and slide down the wall into a boneless heap at his feet. It takes a mere moment for him to all but collapse at her side and wrap one arm lovingly over her.
His skin damp to the touch, as are the curls that bob against his forehead when she brushes them away tenderly, all the eagerness and crazed passion long gone. Sedated, she nuzzles close to press their foreheads together. “I do love you…”
There’s a thick hum from Cullen, his callous fingers stroking over her skin as he allows himself the simple delight of just resting against her. “I love you too.”
Wrapping one trembling leg over his a giggle emerges from Annabel as her foot brushes the tangled mess of their finest clothes. The noise opens his eyes, and he seems to watch with curiosity as she pulls the deep navy satin of her ball gown up to cover them like a blanket.
“You know, I meant what I said, I won’t be held responsible for this,” she runs her fingers over the ruined bodice, the elegant silver embroidery tarnished and split by the roughness of his hands. “And when Josie asks, I’ll make sure you’re the one to explain what happened,” she playfully smacks his chest with the garment which draws a chuckle from him.
“Surely not, my lady,” his arm hugs around her waist a little tighter as he places a kiss against in her dark hair. “You know how shy I am.”
With that she pinches his nipple making him jerk and cry out. It also sounds another cheer to echo from behind the door where the drone of music and conversation continues to hum through.
“Somehow this time I don’t think she’ll quite require an explanation,” Annabel retorts, a radiant smile spreading over her lips as she rests her head against the thump of his heart. For now both content to cuddle there, both unwilling, and unable to make the climb to her actual bed.
Not that they really needed a bed anyway.