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Where Guardianship Becomes Dark Obsession
- Prologue: Fires of Possession
1526
The fire had settled into a steady, low roar, its heat pressing against the stones and sending slow curls of smoke up the wide chimney. Shadows stretched long across the tapestries and the heavy beams above. Alessandro stood near the table, the laces of his shirt hanging open, the fire catching on the hard line of his jaw and the silver at his throat where the ducal chain had been discarded. His eyes had not left Isabella since she stepped into the solar.
She wore only the thin linen nightrail, the fabric already clinging where the night air had touched it. When he spoke her name, low and without question, she turned. The movement made the linen shift over her breasts, the peaks tightening visibly beneath it. He crossed the space between them in three unhurried strides.
His hands found her shoulders first, thumbs pressing into the soft hollows above her collarbones. He felt the fine tremor that ran through her, the way her breath caught and held. Slowly, deliberately, he slid the straps down her arms. The linen rasped over her skin as it fell, baring her to the waist. Cool air met warm flesh. Her nipples drew tighter still, dark and sensitive in the firelight. He cupped one breast, the rough pad of his thumb circling the stiff peak until her lips parted on a soundless breath. His other hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, until his fingers hooked in the remaining fabric and sent it to the floor in a soft rush.
She stood naked before him. He looked at her without haste, taking in the flush already climbing her chest, the way her thighs pressed together and then eased apart again under his gaze. When he stepped closer, the heat of his body reached her first. He bent his head and took her mouth, slow and deep, tongue stroking hers in a rhythm that promised what his body would soon deliver. One hand remained at her breast, rolling and tugging the nipple until she arched into his palm. The other slid down her belly, through the soft curls between her legs, and parted her folds with two fingers.
She was already slick. The evidence of her want coated his fingers as he stroked her, spreading the wetness upward…