language.” Or for all she knew, his thousandth language. “A beer is spirits, Lorgin. Fermented grain—”
“Ah— keeran. Yes!” He slapped the poor guy on the back, sending him five feet across the room. “Let us go, my friend.”
Deana, thinking she’d take the opportunity to slip away, maybe see the Regency Dance, made to move discreetly away. Before she got two feet, Lorgin grabbed her by her shirt collar. “You are going somewhere, Adeeann?”
“Apparently not.”
They had their drink, enjoying themselves with the artist, whose quick wit and ability to jump into what he assumed was role playing made the time a lot of fun. Of course, Lorgin had no idea he was participating in a game of sorts.
Since it was late afternoon, and she was tired from the night before, Deana told Lorgin she would like to rest before meeting the others for dinner. Noting the dark circles under her eyes, Lorgin readily agreed.
Once inside the hotel room, she could barely keep her eyes open blaming last night’s anxiety over sleeping with him, as well as jet lag for her overtired state.
She quickly changed into her nightgown and plopped into bed, telling Lorgin to have fun watching the cartoons.Trying to decide how to instruct him on what time to wake her, she hit upon the perfect solution, informing him to wake her when the Flintstones came on. She was snoozing before her head hit the pillow.
Deana felt cold air hit her back and groaned a complaint into the pillow. As usual, her nightgown had hiked up, way above her waist, and if she wasn’t so sleepy, she’d yank it down. She thought she felt the tip of a finger lightly glide down the indentation of her back to the base of her spine.
Lorgin whispered in her ear. “Adeeann, it is time to wake up.” She brushed away his lips from her ear, mumbling something unintelligible.
He bent over her, his hair sweeping across her back. The tip of his tongue found the two little dimples at the base of her spine, above the band of her underwear. A small frisson lightly vibrated in its wake.
“Cut it out, Lorgin.”
His answer was to graze her buttock with his teeth.
That got her up.
She rapidly flipped over, but he adroitly slid her under him, seeming amused at her expression of horror mixed with panic.
“Do you not like my wake up?” he asked, way too innocently, while running his open palm down the length of her hair.
Deana froze, not certain what to do.
Lorgin dropped onto his forearms, leaning fully against her, his jean-clad thighs pressing warmly against her bare ones. His fiery gaze locked on her soft, full mouth. Her tongue, in response to a nervous reaction, barely came out of her mouth to lick her suddenly dry bottom lip.
He raised his eyes to capture hers as he ran his finger over the spot she had just moistened, and brought it to his own lips, as if he were… tasting her? His eyes flamed anew,and apparently he decided to come back for seconds, for he dipped his head intently toward her.
She silently shook her head no.
“I will have you, Little Fire,” he murmured huskily.
Her eyes opened wide at that remark. She placed her hands against his chest in an effort to hold him off. He simply returned his finger to her lower lip, opening her mouth for him.
Deana stared at him, mesmerized. He had captured her. Very sure. Very knowing. Very male. When he spoke, his tone was raw and implacable.
“Have no doubt.”
Deana wasn’t sure if she moaned or whimpered.
His sweet lips met hers in a brand of fire. Hot. Hard. Demanding. His mouth gave no quarter. She tried turning her head, but his hands locked her firmly in place. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth. She tried to tell him to stop, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he immediately took advantage by gaining entrance.
A bold warrior, he left no spot unconquered by the silky feel of him. His velvet lips and talented tongue expertly invaded her, taking her breath away, leaving strange tiny shivers of
“Ah— keeran. Yes!” He slapped the poor guy on the back, sending him five feet across the room. “Let us go, my friend.”
Deana, thinking she’d take the opportunity to slip away, maybe see the Regency Dance, made to move discreetly away. Before she got two feet, Lorgin grabbed her by her shirt collar. “You are going somewhere, Adeeann?”
“Apparently not.”
They had their drink, enjoying themselves with the artist, whose quick wit and ability to jump into what he assumed was role playing made the time a lot of fun. Of course, Lorgin had no idea he was participating in a game of sorts.
Since it was late afternoon, and she was tired from the night before, Deana told Lorgin she would like to rest before meeting the others for dinner. Noting the dark circles under her eyes, Lorgin readily agreed.
Once inside the hotel room, she could barely keep her eyes open blaming last night’s anxiety over sleeping with him, as well as jet lag for her overtired state.
She quickly changed into her nightgown and plopped into bed, telling Lorgin to have fun watching the cartoons.Trying to decide how to instruct him on what time to wake her, she hit upon the perfect solution, informing him to wake her when the Flintstones came on. She was snoozing before her head hit the pillow.
Deana felt cold air hit her back and groaned a complaint into the pillow. As usual, her nightgown had hiked up, way above her waist, and if she wasn’t so sleepy, she’d yank it down. She thought she felt the tip of a finger lightly glide down the indentation of her back to the base of her spine.
Lorgin whispered in her ear. “Adeeann, it is time to wake up.” She brushed away his lips from her ear, mumbling something unintelligible.
He bent over her, his hair sweeping across her back. The tip of his tongue found the two little dimples at the base of her spine, above the band of her underwear. A small frisson lightly vibrated in its wake.
“Cut it out, Lorgin.”
His answer was to graze her buttock with his teeth.
That got her up.
She rapidly flipped over, but he adroitly slid her under him, seeming amused at her expression of horror mixed with panic.
“Do you not like my wake up?” he asked, way too innocently, while running his open palm down the length of her hair.
Deana froze, not certain what to do.
Lorgin dropped onto his forearms, leaning fully against her, his jean-clad thighs pressing warmly against her bare ones. His fiery gaze locked on her soft, full mouth. Her tongue, in response to a nervous reaction, barely came out of her mouth to lick her suddenly dry bottom lip.
He raised his eyes to capture hers as he ran his finger over the spot she had just moistened, and brought it to his own lips, as if he were… tasting her? His eyes flamed anew,and apparently he decided to come back for seconds, for he dipped his head intently toward her.
She silently shook her head no.
“I will have you, Little Fire,” he murmured huskily.
Her eyes opened wide at that remark. She placed her hands against his chest in an effort to hold him off. He simply returned his finger to her lower lip, opening her mouth for him.
Deana stared at him, mesmerized. He had captured her. Very sure. Very knowing. Very male. When he spoke, his tone was raw and implacable.
“Have no doubt.”
Deana wasn’t sure if she moaned or whimpered.
His sweet lips met hers in a brand of fire. Hot. Hard. Demanding. His mouth gave no quarter. She tried turning her head, but his hands locked her firmly in place. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth. She tried to tell him to stop, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he immediately took advantage by gaining entrance.
A bold warrior, he left no spot unconquered by the silky feel of him. His velvet lips and talented tongue expertly invaded her, taking her breath away, leaving strange tiny shivers of
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