Page 84 of Seducing a Stranger
And maybe the thief was here with her, threatening to steal her heart, even the parts of it she was still afraid to give. There was the sense of marvelous reverence in his touch, a bit of disbelief that belonged to the youth he’d been, the one unused to any kindness or affection.
Though she felt a fervency in him, he lingered over her mouth, kissing her with slow, languorous efficiency and tantalizing promise.
For the first time, he kissed her as if he should be doing nothing else. As if his mind was empty of naught but this moment. And the next. As if they were immortals who might go on kissing for a hundred years and never tire of it.
And, indeed, she wished it were so.
If ever there was a moment in need of prolonging, it was this one.
And yet…a pressure built within her that urged her legs apart so he could settle his big body between them. The barrel of his erection ground against her between the impediments of their clothing, and she was suddenly anxious to be rid of them.
She wanted all of his skin next to hers. All of his heat and his need and his sex.
As if reading her mind, he broke the kiss, lifting away from her only to tackle the placket of tiny buttons that stretched from her chin to her waist.
He made it to her clavicles before ripping the garment open, and lowering back to swallow her faint protestations with more distracting kisses.
“I’ll buy you a dozen bodices,” he whispered against her mouth. “If you only let me tear them from you each night.”
Appeased, she let him unwrap her like a present, releasing this strap, undoing that ribbon, unclasping a hook. His mouth explored every inch he uncovered as if finding it for the first time.
Her chemise caught beneath her swollen, tender breasts as he dragged it up, and she felt them pop free with a little bounce before he swiped it over her head and tossed it somewhere on the floor.
“You are so beautiful,” he groaned.
“So are you,” she replied with breathless candor.
His smile was touched with chagrin as, instead of reaching for her breasts, he lifted his fingers to her hair, deftly searching the plait for pins, pulling them from a head she hadn’t known was aching until the pressure had ceased.
He returned to kissing her with new depth and untried angles as his fingers wended through the braid, unspooling it softly until her hair fell in soft waves down her bare back.
Questing fingers slid up her spine, thrilling her to the core and mingling a shivering chill with the answering heat of need.
No longer willing to stay dormant, Prudence slid her arms around him, sinking her fingers into the heavy, lambent locks of his neatly trimmed hair before lowering them to tug at his collar.
His fingers lifted to help, and their hands tangled in a newfound haste to divest each other of the trappings of their garments.
Once they’d wrestled themselves naked, he climbed up her body like a cat, laying her back beneath him as he pressed a muscled thigh dusted with golden hair between her legs.
They spoke in smiles and sighs as she tested the taut ridges of muscle at his ribs, and down over his corrugated abdomen to reach for the hard and tender flesh below. She still marveled at how silky the skin of his sex was, pulled canvas tight and pulsing with blood and lust. It was hot velvet poured over steel, and she loved nothing more than the moment it fit inside her. As if he’d always been made for her. The key to her lock.
A apropos metaphor, as whenever he’d finished with her, she became quite unlatched. Undone. Open.
He began to chart a course with his lips down her body, pulling his sex from her grasp with a plaintive moan. A little moisture lingered on her fingertips, and she knew by now that meant his arousal had reached a peak. That he approached a point of no return.
His golden head bent over her breast to release a steaming breath against the puckered peak. He browsed at the nipple with only his lips, laved at it with a barely there lick of his tongue.
Moaning her encouragement, Pru squirmed beneath the attentions, not too far gone to be touched by his conscientiousness. Her breasts had been unabatingly tender before, and he was the kind of man who didn’t forget that.
One who always cared about her pleasure and her comfort.
He didn’t use his teeth until he nuzzled into the valley between them, nipping at the skin and then soothing it with a velvety lick.
In the light of the lamp on her dresser table, he became a silhouette of sin, his powerful body hunkered over hers as if protecting his next meal.
And a meal, she was certain to become.
He swiped his tongue across his lips, making them glisten before he dipped his head to press a butterfly-soft kiss to the delicate swell of her belly.
