of movement at my back and yelped as he tackled me, sending the basket flying from my fingertips. He whirled me to face him as we fell, so that I landed with a muffled “Ooof” pinned beneath him; my back pressed into the damp earth. He looked down into my flushed face; dark eyes glittering, lips spreading into a wide, wicked grin—and then he kissed me; his lips pushing mine apart, his tongue sweeping in to plunder and explore. He tasted like fresh herbs and mountain spring water, like spice and wolf.
I pushed him away. “I’ve told you a million times not to tackle me like that.” I got to my feet, brushing leaves from my skirts. “No doubt you’ve ruined another dress. Hilde is going to have a fit.”
“If that old bat didn’t have something to complain about, she’d give up living. I’m doing a public service. You should be thanking me.” Lucas pulled me into his arms and nuzzled under my ear. “You smell terrible, by the way.”
I fought to disentangle myself, trying not to smile. “It’s not me, it’s my dress. And I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself.” I tilted my head back to get away, but it only served to expose more of my throat to those roving lips of his. His fingers found my laces and began tugging them apart. I struggled in earnest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting rid of the dress.” He worked the deep square neckline of my gown lower, warm lips skimming the top of my breast.
“No—I mean—we can’t.” The words would have sounded prim—if they hadn’t come out on a breathy moan and if my fingers hadn’t foolishly buried themselves deep in his thick sable hair so I could press his face to my heaving bosom. His lips found my nipple and I whimpered. “We mustn’t.”
The gown slipped from my shoulders and pooled around my feet, leaving me in nothing but my thin, white chemise. We were nearly the same height, so when he raised his face to mine, he was looking me straight in the eye. “Then tell me to stop.”
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as his hands smoothed down my sides and over my ribcage. He had big hands, rough from living and working outdoors. His hands moved lower, cupping my bottom and bringing me flush against him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The hard ridge of his erection pressing into my thigh. “Tell me to stop,” he repeated softly.
A hot flush lit my cheeks. I gulped and shook my head. I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t ever want him to stop…
I pushed him away. “I’ve told you a million times not to tackle me like that.” I got to my feet, brushing leaves from my skirts. “No doubt you’ve ruined another dress. Hilde is going to have a fit.”
“If that old bat didn’t have something to complain about, she’d give up living. I’m doing a public service. You should be thanking me.” Lucas pulled me into his arms and nuzzled under my ear. “You smell terrible, by the way.”
I fought to disentangle myself, trying not to smile. “It’s not me, it’s my dress. And I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself.” I tilted my head back to get away, but it only served to expose more of my throat to those roving lips of his. His fingers found my laces and began tugging them apart. I struggled in earnest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting rid of the dress.” He worked the deep square neckline of my gown lower, warm lips skimming the top of my breast.
“No—I mean—we can’t.” The words would have sounded prim—if they hadn’t come out on a breathy moan and if my fingers hadn’t foolishly buried themselves deep in his thick sable hair so I could press his face to my heaving bosom. His lips found my nipple and I whimpered. “We mustn’t.”
The gown slipped from my shoulders and pooled around my feet, leaving me in nothing but my thin, white chemise. We were nearly the same height, so when he raised his face to mine, he was looking me straight in the eye. “Then tell me to stop.”
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as his hands smoothed down my sides and over my ribcage. He had big hands, rough from living and working outdoors. His hands moved lower, cupping my bottom and bringing me flush against him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The hard ridge of his erection pressing into my thigh. “Tell me to stop,” he repeated softly.
A hot flush lit my cheeks. I gulped and shook my head. I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t ever want him to stop…
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