Calder Promise by Janet Dailey Page A

zeroed in on his erection.
    After a moment’s pause, she lifted her glance to his face. “Are you quite sure you’re British and not Greek?”
    “Quite sure.” He arched an eyebrow in silent question.
    “You look like Adonis.” Her voice, like the smoldering heat of her gaze, had the breathiness of arousal.
    “That’s a relief.” A smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “For a moment I thought you were going to compare me with Michelangelo’s young David, able to show off only big hands.”
    Her head fell back against the pillow as she broke into laughter. Sebastian took advantage of her distraction to climb into bed with her, stretching out on the inside, keeping her in the lamp’s pooling light. Quick to recover, she rolled toward him and arched her body closer, her hands reaching to spread her fingers over his chest and the mat of hair on his chest.
    “I understand,” he began in a voice husky with suppressed desire, “that lovemaking techniques may vary from man to man as well. Some”—with his fingertips, he brushed wayward strands of hair off her cheek—“start at the top.”
    Featherlight in his pressure, he nuzzled the corner of her eye and the prominent ridge of her cheekbone, followed the curve of her cheek to the corner of her lips, and rubbed his mouth over them, exploring their shape and softness. When he felt her straining toward him, inviting his full possession, he took a couple of tasting kisses, lipping their moist softness, then backtracked along the sculpted line of her jaw to her ear.
    He took his time tracing the outline of its delicate shell with his tongue, nibbling at her lobe and nuzzling the sensitive hollow behind it. An involuntary quiver traveled through her when he located her particular erotic spot. He went back to ignite it again and again, taking satisfaction in the faint, animal sounds of pleasure and need that came from her throat.
    All the while her hands moved over his back and shoulders, her fingers flexing and curling, while his own made long, slow strokes down her spine and up the side of her waist, allowing his thumb to only occasionally brush the outer curve of her breast. Yet, ever so gradually, he worked his way down, abandoning the erotic spot by her ear and transferring his attention to the arcing curve of her throat and the hollow at its base.
    When his hand at last cupped the underside of her breast, her body arched in anticipation. Its firm roundness was nearly his undoing. Even as his thumb circled its peak, feeling it grow hard under his stimulation, he struggled to keep control. Drawn by its irresistible lure, his mouth began a slow foray to it. Upon arrival, his tongue encircled her button-hard nipple, and she breathed in sharply in reaction.
    She dug her fingers into his hair, applying downward pressure. His mouth opened on her breast, drawing its nipple inside. Conscious as he was of her every response, he knew the exact moment when her inner thighs tightened and her hips writhed slightly in an attempt to ease the building pressure. Heat flamed through him. He knew he could easily take her over the brink right now. But it was too soon.
    While he still could, Sebastian pulled away and worked to even his breathing. His glance lingered on her parted lips, then lifted to her dark eyes, heavy-lidded with desire.
    “And, of course,” He ran a hand down her leg, letting his gaze follow it, “there are those who prefer to start at the bottom.”
    As he shifted to focus his attention on her feet, she murmured, “God, but you are a horrible tease.” Mixed in with her frustrated tone was amusement and a touch of curiosity.
    The narrow heel, the delicate arch, the ball of her foot, and each individual toe, his mouth wandered over all of them before it began the upward journey to her slender ankle and the curve of her calf.
    As he nuzzled the back of her knee, the bedside telephone rang. “Feel free to answer that,” he told her while lightly rubbing his