Joust of Hearts by Genella deGrey Page A

on her body, his enticing male scent. Melisande started to shake. Was she cold or was she frightened that he might still be awake?
    At his door, she took a deep breath and silently pushed it open just enough to slip through. By the light of a single candle, he looked to be asleep. Relief and disappointment clashed within her as if they were engaged in an intense wrestling match out on the lists. She began to back out of the room.
    “Melisande?” Devin called to her softly from the bed.
    “Aye?” her barely audible voice escaped from her throat.
    “I pray you, enter.”
    Mercy, how I want to . And yet, I’m afraid. I wish for a glimpse of heaven and run at the first sight of it.
    Just being in the same room with him made her want to feel his body pressed against hers. It was a much easier decision when he was absent from her sight. Or was it?
    I long to be touched by his strong hands.
    If only someone else would make the decision for her, someone quite removed from the situation.
    “Come to me.” Devin’s voice sounded gentle but urgent.
    Again she felt the now familiar yet extraordinary pull toward him. At once the voices and warring emotions ceased, leaving behind the fading sounds of words unspoken. Arriving at the conclusion that her heart had won the debate, Melisande closed the door behind her and started toward his bed.
    She wanted him. God forgive her, but she wanted him. She was no silly virgin. Pretending to be so would be a mockery.
    Melisande ascended the two steps at the foot of the bed as if in a trance and looked at Devin for a moment. She then untied her robe and let it fall away.
    Devin’s gaze caressed her and he held out his hand to her. “Never have I desired a woman this much in my entire life.”
    His whispered sentiment left a mark upon her heart. Not in a million years would she forget his words. She climbed up, took his hand, and knelt on the bed before him. Devin sat up to share her position and Melisande pressed herself against him, suddenly embarrassed by her uncovered body.
    A low chuckle rumbled in his throat and he proceeded to uncoil the braid from atop her head.
    Once her hair was down and falling over her shoulders and breasts, Melisande lifted her hands to brush the stray hairs from her face. Devin pulled back from her just enough to get a long glimpse of her bare chest. Soon after, his hands followed where his gaze had been.
    Melisande could no longer wait to touch him. She explored his thickly muscled torso and arms with her hands, in awe over the strength of him. His young, tight body was a new and wondrous experience for her.
    In silence, they touched, kissed and nibbled by the light of the candle, exploring each other, memorizing, worshiping. The soft kisses Devin placed over her chest, shoulders and neck made Melisande quiver as desire lanced through to her very soul. He was so gentle with her, timid even, and yet it seemed he knew exactly what he was doing, making her feel cherished and adored.
    She lightly scratched her nails down the back of his head, her hands buried in his soft golden-brown hair. Devin blazed a hot trail with his mouth across her cheek until their lips met, and at the same time, his hand skimmed over her hip and across her belly while the other rested on the small of her back. When his fingers threaded through the curls at the juncture of her thighs, she drew in a shuddering breath and exhaled Devin’s name, urging him on. Clutching at his shoulders to steady herself, she found them rock-hard, yet warm, adding to the thrill of his closeness.
    His hand slid lower, his touch almost tickling, then he nudged between her folds with such skill she found she could barely breathe. Each caress seemed like she’d never experienced such a thing before. Applying more pressure at her back, he held her captive between his vise-like hands. Her head lolled back as he teased her opening, barely inching a digit inside then out to skim the flesh once again, his rhythm