Hello, lovelies! Hope you’re ready for a hot scene from my forthcoming fantasy romance Lady of Thorns. Tired of her reputation as the stiff, standoffish Lady of Thorns, Lady Amelie de Clerq has asked Alain LaPorte to tutor her in lovemaking, but she’s about to get more than she ever expected.

As always, a huge thank you to Anglica Dawson for making this possible, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

“How do we do this? Go from sitting here to naked and in bed?”

Alain studied her, then drained his goblet. “Like this, my lady.”

Getting to his feet, he held out his hand. The fluttering in Amelie’s stomach grew, but she rose and took it. A tingle raced over her skin, surprisingly similar to the feeling of worked magic. But this isn’t magic. Is it?

The heat from the fireplace combined with the warmth from his body as he took her into his arms. His hands spread across her back, the touch sinking through her gown and into her skin. “May I kiss you?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He lifted her chin and brushed their mouths together, catching her lower lip between his own in the softest of bites. Her nipples pebbled up, rubbing against the cotton of her chemise as her body responded to this sublime seduction. His tongue slipped between her lips, a clever intruder that probed every corner of her mouth. She met it boldly with her own tongue, delighting in how this man could set her on fire with something as simple as a kiss.

He pulled away, hazel eyes dark now with desire. “There is honey in your kiss, my lady. The sugared touch of your lips is sweeter than the ripest fruit.”

She couldn’t help smiling at the poetic compliment. “All the better to feed a hungry man, counselor. The bounty of my harvest is yours.”

“Mm, and I intend to take full advantage of your bounty.” Another kiss, deeper and richer, and Amelie drowned in the golden pleasure of it. When they parted this time, they were both breathing heavily. “May I call you Amelie?”

Her first name on his lips, a privilege restricted only to her immediate family, sent a wicked tingle though her. “If I can call you Alain.”

“Of course. Lovers should be on a first name basis, don’t you think?”

She smothered a delighted squeal when he swept her up, carrying her to the bed. Setting her down again, he cupped her face and gave her the most passionate kiss yet, his hands stroking down the column of her neck to her shoulders. Her breasts ached with a sweet need and she wanted his hands on them.

“I’m going to undress you now,” he murmured. “And then I’m going to start at the top of your head and kiss every part of you.”

She couldn’t believe that she whimpered at his statement, but there was no denying the soft sound that escaped from her. She let him turn her, felt his fingers work at the laces of her bodice. As it loosened she shivered, imagining his touch on her breasts, her belly, the soft flesh between her legs.

The bodice fell away from her, a shed skin ready to be stripped away. He pushed it down her arms, exposing her shoulders and pressing his lips to one. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

She wasn’t sure if it was the compliment or the feel of his lips that sent more bolts of desire crackling across her nerve endings. Quite frankly, she didn’t care. She needed more.

He urged her gown to her hips and then to the floor, helping her step out of it. Removing her stays was interspersed with more warm, sweet kisses across her shoulders and neck, whispered endearments filling her ears. She gasped when he nibbled on one lobe, the wet heat of his mouth a most delightful shock.

And then the stays joined her gown on the floor. She turned back to him, clad only in her chemise and stockings. Her nervousness returned, and she didn’t know where to look, finally staring over his shoulder at the waiting bed.

A crooked finger slid under her chin, urging her to look at him. “What is it?” he asked.

“I feel … exposed.” it sounded ridiculous, but it was true. When he was behind her, she could enjoy his caresses knowing that he couldn’t see her. Now, however, she was acutely aware that he was face to face with the Lady of Thorns, and the echoes of every cutting comment sounded in her head.

“That’s because you are. Exposed, and lovely enough to make my head spin.” He paused. “You don’t believe that I want you, do you?”

Her eyes stung, and she blinked to hold the salt water at bay. Damn it all, was she truly that transparent? “I believe that you’re willing to adhere to our agreement, which is kind of you.”

“No, it’s not. I’m afraid you’ll find that I’m not a kind man, not in the slightest.” His voice lowered. “My lady, a man may lie about his wealth, his occupation, even his family name. But one thing he cannot lie about is when he’s attracted to a woman.”

His hand slipped around hers and drew it down. She knew instinctively what he was doing but still gasped when he pressed her hand against the heavy, warm length in his breeches. The muscles between her legs contracted in a unexpected clench at the physical proof of his desire.

He folded her fingers around him, keeping her palm pressed against his hardness. “I wanted you from the first moment you walked into the king’s study, travel-stained and exhausted as you were. If we hadn’t had other matters to attend to, I would have pressed my suit then and there.”

Amelie could still remember the acrid stench of the privy that had been the only avenue of escape from the mage-proof chamber where her mother had jailed her. With only enough time to crop her hair short and change its color, she had spent a sleepless night riding across country to reach Mons and plead for Matthias’s help. “I was a fright,” she muttered. “How could you have wanted me?”

“You were stunning. A warrior goddess come to earth to claim fealty from the king.” His hand began to move hers, guiding it up and down the heated ridge. “Although I prefer your own hair color. The blonde didn’t suit you.”

“I meant it as a disguise.” Her thoughts were fragmenting, split apart by the promise of his flesh against her palm. The growing ache between her thighs throbbed, making her wonder what it would be like to feel him inside her, filling her. Would it be as delicious as the gossiping girls promised, or would it be yet another disappointment? “You don’t mind that my hair is brown?”

“It’s not brown. It’s sable, with streaks of caramel and auburn in the sunlight.” He studied her irises. “And your eyes are the color of rich, dark sherry with a hint of russet in their depths.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Your nose is lovely and delicate, and as I already mentioned there is honey in your lips. Your skin is soft and creamy and gives off the most delicious scent, and I can’t wait to worship your breasts with my mouth.” He moved his mouth to her ear, breath warm on the shell. “Or that sweet flesh between your thighs. Mark my words, Amelie, I fully intend to taste you there tonight.”

The thought of his mouth between her legs caused that area to grow alarmingly wet. “You can’t,” she whispered, delighted and shocked at the same time.

“Oh, I can. And I’ll enjoy it. You may well become my favorite dessert.”

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