But they were in public. They were not married. And despite the rush of new feelings, she knew to get close to him was wrong. Even if a part of her did want it.
“Stop,” she whispered, pressing a hand against his chest before he could brush up against her..
She felt her breath hitch as she touched him; even through the many layers of fine clothes he was wearing, her fingertips tingled as she felt the muscles and steady, strong heartbeat beneath. Hugo’s smile was slow to form, as was the way he brought his hand up to cover her own.
“Do you want me to?” He whispered back, caressing the back of her hand.
No.
“Yes,” she forced out, pushing through the mental fog he was putting her in, “Someone will see us.”
“Your pulse is quickening again,” he murmured, tracing his fingertips over her own.
“How do you do that?” She whispered back, searching his eyes. “How are you so aware of heartbeats?”
She tried to reach for her annoyance, but it was waning. Fast.
“Just yours,” he replied, cupping her cheek with his other hand, “It sings to me.”
Seraphina felt the subtle way he pulled her to him, and as his lips hovered closer to hers, she could not find the will to stop him.
“What is it singing?” she breathed.
Hugo’s eyes searched her own as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, and she could not stop the whimper that escaped. He then dipped his head lower as she felt him tilt her chin upward and, softly, he kissed her.
Heat simmered in Seraphina’s veins as an enjoyable dizziness filled her head, and she felt herself sway forward. Hugo’s kisswas tender, his lips molding to hers then pulling away, just enough to let her catch a brief breath before they met again.
As if he could feel her giving into him, Hugo’s embrace grew tighter; his fingers caressing her waist and lower back. If she fell backward, that touch promised, he would catch her. For a moment she did, letting herself slip into the heady pleasure of both his embrace and his kiss.
The concern for time and place drifted away, and she found herself hungry for more. A soft moan escaped her lips as she allowed herself to kiss him back.
Then, all too quickly, yet somehow still painfully slow, he pulled away.
“Your song says you want me as I want you, little lamb,” he whispered against her lips. “That you are meant to be mine.”
Seraphina’s eyes flew open, her senses rushing back to her so fast that it made her head spin. She pushed at him, making him chuckle, but this time he moved his body back to allow her some space.
“You don’t agree?” He teased.
“Even if I did, I loathe such cockiness, Your Grace,” she retorted, feeling breathless.
Her heart pounded in her chest, making her aware of the ache that started in her lower belly and had spread into her entire being. Yet even if her body wanted one thing, her mind insisted she wanted another.
“You will not get your way by telling me how I feel,” she grit out.
“No,” he mused, allowing her to walk away, “But I certainly make you feel something.”
“You do. At present, it is rage,” she seethed, throwing him one last glare. She nearly stumbled as she forced her feet to move away from, the action fumbling and not at all smooth, betraying her words.
Hugo must have caught it, because he chuckled as he watched her, his head cocking like a predatory hawk did before it went in for its kill. She forced her eyes away from and pressed her lips together, forcing herself not say another word.
She expected him to follow her, and damn him if she did not feel a flare of disappointment when he stayed put, and merely bowed his head toward her with an infuriating smirk.
“That was dangerous,” Everett mused, appearing from around the corner.
Hugo lifted a single brow as he looked to his friend.
“You were watching me?”