...Lydia fisted her hands in the sheets, fighting the urge to use them to cover her breasts and private parts. He’s your husband. He’s allowed to look. “Don’t you want to turn down the lights?”

He seemed surprised at her suggestion. “Why? I enjoy looking at you. I want to see every expression on your face when I make love to you.”

“Oh.”

That meant she could look at him, too. He was better built than she’d realized, tall and lean, more wiry than slender. His bare chest was lightly muscled with dark hair between his nipples and trailing down to his slim waist. She dared to lower her gaze and saw his man-root straining against his pajama pants. There was no doubt he wanted her, arranged marriage or not, and she found that fact comforting.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughed and moved up the bed to take her in his arms. “Are you so eager, my bride?”

Not eager, nervous.

But she said nothing, just knew this anticipation was driving her slowly mad.

He pulled one of the pillows from behind her and pressed her down onto the bed, covering her bare legs with his. Bending his head, he covered her mouth with his, sucking on her lips, then delving inside her mouth to stroke her tongue with his. She wrapped her arms around him, caressing the smooth skin of his back.

“You can scratch, if you want,” he murmured in her ear.

Her eyelids flew open. “Is that what you like?”

When he shrugged, she gently ran her fingernails over his back.

Kissing her again, he moved his hands to her breasts, stroking and kneading them, using his thumbs to tease her nipples into hardened nubs. Sensations coursed through her and she squirmed. His erection pressed into her thigh.

When the kiss ended, he slid his lips across her jaw, nibbled on her ear lobe, then trailed his tongue down her neck, sending shivers through her. He continued to kiss her body, moving to one of her breasts, closing his mouth over her nipple. Her nervousness subsided under his sensual onslaught as her body came alive with new sensations.

After paying equal homage to her other breast, he again kissed the sensitive skin of her stomach, moving closer and closer to the junction of her thighs. Sliding to one side, he used his hands to urge her legs apart. “Open your legs and bend your knees.”

“Evan,” she exclaimed, scandalized. She was already wet down there.

His answer was a chuckle. “Let me see your yoni, Lydia.”

She did as he asked. “My what?”

He lay between her legs and propped on one elbow, while his other hand stroked her inner thigh. “Yoni. It’s the Hindu word for your private parts.” He ran his fingers through the hair covering her mound. “Do you want to know what else it’s called?”

“No,” she gasped. “Yoni is fine.” Her breath came quicker now, and all the sensations he’d aroused seemed to have rushed to her crotch, leaving an aching, unfulfilled need.

He kissed her inner thigh, then her nether lips, circling around her pulsing core. His hot breath on her yoni had her muscles clenching. The he licked her slit, sending a shudder throughout her body.