Sylvia Day - [Georgian 03] by A Passion for Him Page A

“Yes, I would. ” Anything to avoid seeing him with another girl.
    He nuzzled hard against her. “An earl . . . It must be Lord Ware. Damn him. ”
    “He is nice to me. He talks to me, smiles when he sees me. Today, he is going to give me my first kiss. And I’m—”
    “No!” Colin pulled back, his irises swallowed by dilated pupils leaving deep black pools of torment. “He may have all the things that I never will, including you. But by God, he won’t take that from me. ”
    “What—?”
    He took her mouth, stunning her so that she couldn’t move. Amelia could not understand what was happening, why he was acting this way, why he would approach her now, on this day, and kiss her as if he were starved for the taste of her.
    His head twisted, his lips fitting more fully over hers, his thumbs pressing gently into the hinges of her jaw and urging her mouth to open. She shivered violently, awash in heated longing, afraid she was dreaming or had otherwise lost her mind. Her mouth opened, and a whimper escaped as his tongue, soft like wet velvet, slipped inside.
    Frightened, she stopped breathing. Then he murmured to her, her darling Colin, his fingertips brushing across her cheekbones in a soothing caress.
    “Let me, ” he whispered. “Trust me. ”
    Amelia lifted to her toes, surging into him, her hands sliding into his silken locks. Unschooled, she could only follow his lead, allowing him to eat at her mouth gently, her tongue tentatively touching his.
    He moaned, a sound filled with hunger and need, his hands cupping the back of her head and angling her better. The connection became deeper, her response more fervent. Tingles swept across her skin in a wave of goose bumps. In the pit of her stomach a sense of urgency grew, of recklessness and flaring hope.
    One of his hands slipped, caressing the length of her back before cupping her buttock and urging her up and into his body. As she felt the hard ridge of his arousal, a deep ache blossomed low inside her.
    “Amelia . . . sweet. ” His lips drifted across her damp face, kissing away her tears. “We shouldn’t be doing this. ”
    But he kept kissing her and kissing her and rolling his hips into her.
    “I love you,” she gasped. “I’ve loved you so long—”
    He cut her off with his lips over hers, his passion escalating, his hands roaming all over her back and arms. When she couldn’t breathe, she tore her lips away.
    “Tell me you love me,” she begged, her chest heaving. “You must. Oh, God, Colin . . .” She rubbed her tear-streaked face into his. “You’ve been so cruel, so mean. ”
    “I can’t have you. You shouldn’t want me. We can’t—”
    Colin thrust away from her with a vicious curse. “You are too young for me to touch you like this. No. Don’t say anything else, Amelia. I am a servant. I will always be a servant, and you will always be a viscount’s daughter. ”
    Her arms wrapped around her middle, her entire body quaking as if she were cold instead of blistering hot. Her skin felt too tight, her lips swollen and throbbing. “But you do love me, don’t you?” she asked, her small voice shaky despite her efforts to be strong.
    “Don’t ask me that. ”
    “Can you not grant me at least that much? If I cannot have you anyway, if you will never be mine, can’t you at least tell me that your heart belongs to me?”
    He groaned. “I thought it was best if you hated me. ” His head tilted up to the sky with his eyes squeezed shut. “I had hoped that if you did, I would stop dreaming.”
    “Dreaming of what?” She tossed aside caution and approached him, her fingers slipping beneath his sweater to touch the hard ridges of his abdomen.
    He caught her wrist and glared down at her. “Don’t touch me. ”
    “Are they like my dreams?” she queried softly. “Where you kiss me as you did a moment ago and tell me you love me more than anything in the world?”
    “No,” he growled. “They are not sweet and romantic and