Christmas Wishes Part 1. Elizabeth Rolls

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      ‘Please look at me,’ she said softly, stepping so close that he could feel her warmth against his back.

      ‘I can’t.’

      ‘You don’t understand,’ she said, pressing up against him and smoothing her hands over his ribs.

      ‘Then explain it to me.’

      ‘I’m not marrying any of them.’

      He paused and turned to face her.

      ‘What?’

      She looked up, her blue eyes wide and sincere.

      ‘My aunt will be furious,’ she continued. ‘But none of those men will be my husband.’

      ‘How is that possible?’ Andrey asked with a frown.

      She smiled.

      ‘Because I chased them away. Igor managed to threaten the other two, and then I convinced Igor that I just wasn’t worth the effort. He wasn’t interested in marrying me once I let him believe that I don’t stand to inherit much of anything from my father. Of course the fools had no idea that they’d been tricked.’

      ‘So all that flirting...’

      ‘A farce, Andrey.’

      Andrey lowered his head, touching his forehead to hers in relief. He’d underestimated her once again, and guilt flooded him.

      ‘Did you think me so fickle?’ she chided, clicking her tongue.

      ‘I am a fool among fools,’ Andrey admitted hoarsely.

      She cupped his cheeks, her eyes meeting his earnestly. A sweet smile graced her lips.

      ‘We were both cornered by my aunt,’ she said, feathering kisses over the bridge of his nose. ‘I had so very few choices. And there was no time to explain.’

      He kissed her. It was a long, languorous kiss that was sweet with the slide of lips and tongue. Ekaterina pulled away first, and Andrey groaned.

      ‘Andrey,’ she breathed, her eyes searching his. ‘My Andrey. I still don’t know what will happen to us. My aunt will probably send me away, and I am not sure if I can save you from Siberia.’

      She pressed closer to him, her fingers tangling in his hair. ‘I will do my best, but...’ She paused, her eyes welling with tears. ‘But I’m not sure if we will be able to be together again.’

      Andrey planted kisses over her eyes, his rough fingers drawing her close.

      ‘Then let us make the most of the time we have left.’

      His next kiss was hungry and demanding, as if he wanted to capture her and devour her whole. She responded with a low, throaty moan. When Ekaterina lifted her slim arms to twine them around his neck, her lips hot and wet against his, Andrey reached for the laces of her corset. With a few sharp tugs he pulled the bodice apart and let it drop to the floor in a bloom of dust. He spun her around suddenly, his hands sliding greedily over her bare skin.

      Ekaterina let her head drop back, and Andrey laved her neck with his tongue. Her breaths came in quick, almost anguished pants as a delectable, unquenchable heat climbed her belly. Andrey grabbed at her skirt, his hands disappearing to smooth up her thighs.

      ‘Andrey,’ she begged, her breathing hitching in her throat.

      Grunting, Andrey gently bent her over his workbench, his hands guiding hers into grabbing hold of the sculpture he’d just been working on. Hooking one arm around her waist, he pulled impatiently at his trousers. Then he pushed up her skirts and hiked them over her hips. Pressing his hot, throbbing member to her bottom, he leaned over her prone form and put his lips to her ear.

      ‘Are you ready?’ Andrey asked, his breath hot and ragged on the shell of her ear.

      Ekaterina responded by grinding her hips against his and arching her back under his palm. Andrey gripped her hips with his hands and slowly pushed himself into her, his body shuddering with the exquisite sensation of her clenching around him. As he withdrew and thrust anew, Ekaterina’s back arched and her fingers tightened around the carving. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the dusty workshop, punctuated by their cries of pleasure.

      For Andrey, it was a fantasy brought to life to have the woman of his dreams bent over his worktable, writhing beneath his pulsing rhythm and crying out his name in rapture. He planted a line of kisses down the line of her spine, grinning as she shivered. His hands moulded to her pert breasts and he rubbed her aching nipples with his callused thumbs.

      Then, to his surprise, Ekaterina pulled away and his shaft bobbed free. Andrey growled in frustration, but Ekaterina simply turned around with a brazen smirk. With two deft tugs, her voluminous skirts slid down her slender hips to pool at the floor around her feet. Running the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, she backed up and perched her bottom on the edge of Andrey’s worktable. Arching one brow, and with a saucy tilt to her chin, she gracefully crossed one leg over her knee.

      Andrey swallowed the lump in his throat as he grew impossibly harder. He leaned over her, planting his hands on either side of her hips.

      ‘I think your legs are in the wrong position, Ekaterina,’ he purred wickedly.

      ‘Oh?’ she teased playfully. ‘And how do you think I should be sitting?’

      ‘Let me show you.’

      Andrey smoothed his hands up her shapely calves, hooking his fingers under her knees. With a sharp jerk, he pulled her legs apart and pressed his hips to her core.

      ‘Oh,’ she breathed, twisting her ankles around his waist.

      ‘I will make you remember me,’ he promised in low, determined tones.

      Andrey grinned and leaned her back against the dusty table, sliding his open palm from her jaw to her breast. With a flash of teeth he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt. Ekaterina arched off the surface but Andrey pinned her hips down, relentlessly thrusting. He leaned over her, and she dug her fingers into his muscular shoulder blades. She inhaled the heady musk of his sweat, with the chalky scent of sawdust a pleasant undertone. She scraped her teeth over his neck, relishing the salt on his skin.

      Then he angled his hips just so and her world exploded in white spots. For an endless moment there was nothing but sweat, skin and the rasp of their breathing. And then he gave a primal cry, filling her with a violent shudder.

      Andrey buried his face in her bosom, panting and murmuring her name. She gathered him closer, her fingers tangling in his thick locks. They stayed locked in that embrace for as long as they could, each passing moment more precious than the one before. When finally they separated, they dressed slowly and reluctantly. They did not know what the evening would bring.

      Right before they parted, Andrey gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. His eyes met hers.

      ‘Until we meet again, my lady.’

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