throat.
If he suckled that delicate skin, he would leave a bruise. For all to see.
The choice at that moment was no choice at all. It was a primal call, like reflex and deep, forbidden instinct. He clasped his lips to her throat. A frantic pulse beat beneath his tongue, which matched his heartbeat. The suction he applied was light at first, but then his questing hand found her feminine mound, softly padded with a thatch of curls.
Her gasp and her sleek, wet flesh drove him to suck harder. She thrashed her head. Mischievous fingers fought the constraints of his suit, stripping him from the waist up. She scored him with her nails again and again—between his shoulder blades, over his biceps, across the meat of his chest.
“Amazing, William,” she breathed, lips moist and swollen.
The pull of her responsiveness was so much greater than he had anticipated. So often, in such a brief span of time, she had taken him by surprise. He released her neck and grasped her backside. Her drawers were no barrier. He held bare flesh—round, supple, soft. His brain flickered. So little thought remained. He breathed heavily against her neck, right against the red-blue bruise he had sucked to the surface of her pale skin. He wanted to be inside this woman.
“We shouldn’t,” he managed to rasp.
Her little gyrations stilled. She caught his face with slender hands. William blinked and discovered a pale, clear brown. He finally recognized the color as her hypnotizing eyes. A flurry of kisses along his abused nose were the prelude to her shivering sigh. Then Catrin looked down between their disheveled bodies. He followed her gaze as her fingers trailed directly toward his trouser buttons.
“Shall we talk about ‘shouldn’t,’ William?”With a few quick flicks and a graceless tug, she bared his cock, his ass, and clutched both. “Because I shouldn’t be alive.”
He groaned, as near to pain as he had ever experienced beneath a woman’s touch. Speaking was even more difficult than breathing. “I’ll take you.”
“I’ll be disappointed if you do not.”
“But I won’t marry you.”
Catrin only smiled. The teasing shape of her mouth snapped his reason in two. Damn her. He had given her more reminders to be sensible than any man could be expected to produce. But her slim fingers began to pulse along his hard length.
Hissing softly, he dropped his forehead to her bosom. He slid farther down, pulling free of her grasp just as he stripped her stockings and whatever other frilly garments kept him from her flesh. She had lithe, petite legs with sharp knees and dainty little feet. He palmed her thighs and pulled them apart to encircle his lower body. Her bottom slid forward on the desk. The hot sweetness of her arousal stabbed at the most primitive part of his brain.
He would do what Susannah had never permitted, what Georgette had taught him to enjoy almost more than sex. He would taste Miss Catrin Jones.
Her soft, breathy scream as he kissed her thigh was as near to a request to stop as she had uttered. The tension in her bare legs quivered on the edge of no. William was so very far gone. He could wait for that fateful word and put his honor to the staunchest of tests, or he could show her bliss. At that moment, so near to licking her sleek, glistening center, he possessed no other semblance of logic.
She tunneled her fingers into his hair. Tugged. Opened her thighs wider.
“Damn fool woman.”
He tasted, yes. He sipped. He licked and nipped and grabbed behind her knees. Like honey, her sugared slickness trickled across his tongue. Each subtle shift drew forth another of her sensuous gasps. William wanted to close his eyes and bask in his unexpected triumph, but he angled his gaze to watch as pleasure transformed her features. Usually so tidy and composed, Catrin was quickly coming undone: sweat along her brow, hair trailing like ragged pennants, and breasts up-thrust with every shallow inhale.
“William! Oh, God.
If he suckled that delicate skin, he would leave a bruise. For all to see.
The choice at that moment was no choice at all. It was a primal call, like reflex and deep, forbidden instinct. He clasped his lips to her throat. A frantic pulse beat beneath his tongue, which matched his heartbeat. The suction he applied was light at first, but then his questing hand found her feminine mound, softly padded with a thatch of curls.
Her gasp and her sleek, wet flesh drove him to suck harder. She thrashed her head. Mischievous fingers fought the constraints of his suit, stripping him from the waist up. She scored him with her nails again and again—between his shoulder blades, over his biceps, across the meat of his chest.
“Amazing, William,” she breathed, lips moist and swollen.
The pull of her responsiveness was so much greater than he had anticipated. So often, in such a brief span of time, she had taken him by surprise. He released her neck and grasped her backside. Her drawers were no barrier. He held bare flesh—round, supple, soft. His brain flickered. So little thought remained. He breathed heavily against her neck, right against the red-blue bruise he had sucked to the surface of her pale skin. He wanted to be inside this woman.
“We shouldn’t,” he managed to rasp.
Her little gyrations stilled. She caught his face with slender hands. William blinked and discovered a pale, clear brown. He finally recognized the color as her hypnotizing eyes. A flurry of kisses along his abused nose were the prelude to her shivering sigh. Then Catrin looked down between their disheveled bodies. He followed her gaze as her fingers trailed directly toward his trouser buttons.
“Shall we talk about ‘shouldn’t,’ William?”With a few quick flicks and a graceless tug, she bared his cock, his ass, and clutched both. “Because I shouldn’t be alive.”
He groaned, as near to pain as he had ever experienced beneath a woman’s touch. Speaking was even more difficult than breathing. “I’ll take you.”
“I’ll be disappointed if you do not.”
“But I won’t marry you.”
Catrin only smiled. The teasing shape of her mouth snapped his reason in two. Damn her. He had given her more reminders to be sensible than any man could be expected to produce. But her slim fingers began to pulse along his hard length.
Hissing softly, he dropped his forehead to her bosom. He slid farther down, pulling free of her grasp just as he stripped her stockings and whatever other frilly garments kept him from her flesh. She had lithe, petite legs with sharp knees and dainty little feet. He palmed her thighs and pulled them apart to encircle his lower body. Her bottom slid forward on the desk. The hot sweetness of her arousal stabbed at the most primitive part of his brain.
He would do what Susannah had never permitted, what Georgette had taught him to enjoy almost more than sex. He would taste Miss Catrin Jones.
Her soft, breathy scream as he kissed her thigh was as near to a request to stop as she had uttered. The tension in her bare legs quivered on the edge of no. William was so very far gone. He could wait for that fateful word and put his honor to the staunchest of tests, or he could show her bliss. At that moment, so near to licking her sleek, glistening center, he possessed no other semblance of logic.
She tunneled her fingers into his hair. Tugged. Opened her thighs wider.
“Damn fool woman.”
He tasted, yes. He sipped. He licked and nipped and grabbed behind her knees. Like honey, her sugared slickness trickled across his tongue. Each subtle shift drew forth another of her sensuous gasps. William wanted to close his eyes and bask in his unexpected triumph, but he angled his gaze to watch as pleasure transformed her features. Usually so tidy and composed, Catrin was quickly coming undone: sweat along her brow, hair trailing like ragged pennants, and breasts up-thrust with every shallow inhale.
“William! Oh, God.
Similar Books
