Page 45 of In Want of a Wife
“Damn fools.”
His lips crashed down on hers again, and this time, she not only welcomed his touch but begged for more.
Rafe pressed against her mouth with his tongue, and she opened to him, hooking her arms around his neck. His body was warm and strong against hers, soft where his was…
Lily felt his hard arousal against her middle. Perhaps it was expected for her to be shocked. Society likely wished girls of her breeding to remain knowing very little of the marriage bed.
But this wasn’t the marriage bed. This was pleasure that she would seek for herself, on her own terms, with someone who made her feel so irritatingly interested in exploring.
She sighed, breaking their kiss to sip at the edges of that smart mouth of his, down his cheek to the line of his jaw as his hands skated up the length of her body and softly cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Such a soft touch, and yet everything warmed inside of her.
He bent down and kissed her neck, nibbling along the column of soft flesh there.
“Do you like this?” he whispered, then gently stroked his thumb against her nipple. It pebbled hard against the soft fabric of her chemise.
She nodded, melting against him. Melting away as her feet slipped against the floor. He ignited some quiet riot within her, something that could not be controlled. She hated to love it, but she did.
“Please don’t stop,” she finally whispered.
She braced her body, ready for his rejection. Ready for him to pretend as if this meant nothing. It meant nothing, did it not?
Instead, Rafe moved his mouth over hers again in a drugging kiss as the birds sang about twilight outside their small attic window.
They had pretended to be husband and wife.
They had pretended to be married to share this room with one bed. The same bed that beckoned her now, taunting her to call up some strength within her to summon what she wished for at this moment. Rafe would be an excellent teacher.
And soon they would part ways.
And soon she wouldn’t be able to kiss him as she wished.
She moaned at his touch. A kiss would never be enough.
Not with him.
She broke apart from him, stumbling back a step as she held her hand to her lips. The room spun and felt impossibly hot. Rafe stood there, his hazel eyes burning for her, desperate for more.
And all she could think to say was, “I will go see about dinner now.”
Dinner had passedwithout much fanfare in their small room. Rafe settled back into bed with a cold compress against his ribs and drifted in and out of sleep as Lily read by candlelight at the table beside the open window.
She would glance over from time to time, certain she had finallycooled off only to feel feverish again as she studied Rafe reclining in bed, his torso exposed, with sweat beading along his olive skin from the summer heat.
Their kiss had been perfect.
Lily nibbled her thumb, reading over the same passage of her science manuscript for perhaps the eighth time. She was hot, and for once, she didn’t wish to learn about the wonders held in the heavens. Only hours earlier, she had discovered a far more enjoyable distraction.
“What are you thinking about?” Rafe asked, his voice rough with sleep and pain.
The ache in her chest deepened.
She looked up, struck by his burning gaze that held nothing but a delicious tumble of pleasure and mistakes. And somehow, she didn’t think she could find it within her to stop now. It was one night.
One kiss.
Lily glanced back to her book, darting her tongue at the worried flesh of her thumb, imagining Rafe’s lips against hers, how they explored the arch of her neck, the way shivers chased up her spine as his hands discovered the lines of her body.
“Lily?” He chuckled before hissing a soft groan.
