Page 72 of Tender Blackguard

As she parted her lips, words urging him to kiss her already rising from her throat, his expression shifted. His jaw muscles tensed and bunched at the corners, his gorgeous lips became hard, and his gaze shuttered.

“I told you to keep your distance.” His voice was thick and raw.

Lark couldn’t prevent the corner of her mouth from curling upward. “It would appear I didn’t listen.”

“Impertinent,” he muttered with a scowl.

She smiled. But his features didn’t soften. Even as he combed his fingers through her hair from scalp to tip, sending tingling chills across the surface of her skin, he glowered. With a sigh, she lifted her hands from his shoulders to frame his face. Staring intently into his eyes, she spoke in a firm and steady voice. “I want this. I want you, Alastair. From the moment I sat across from you in your study, I’ve known it would come to this. To us.”

Though she doubted he realized it, his hand fisted in her hair, tugging sweetly on her scalp, as his expression darkened into something resembling anger.

“How could you want a man like me? I’m—”

She interrupted him with a firm press of her fingers to his lips. She could feel the tug of a scowl weighing her own brow as she spoke intently, hoping to break through his false beliefs. “Stop. You’re not like your father. You’re not. I’ve encountered enough bad men in my life to know a good one.” She lowered her fingers from his mouth and pressed her palm to his chest, covering the hard beat of his heart. “You’re a good man, Alastair. Noble and strong and good. What your father did to your mother was unconscionable. But his wickedness and her anguished hatred do not belong to you.”

There was a long and potent silence as they stared at each other. Their breath mingled in the narrow space between them, and slowly his fist relaxed in her hair and he slid his palm down the curve of her spine. When she shivered, in part due to the sensations he roused and partly due to the cooling water of the bath, he made a soft sound and pulled her close into his arms as he abruptly rose to his feet.

The rush of cooler air against her wet skin drew a sharp gasp as she tightened her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. In doing so, she couldn’t ignore the hot length of his erection against her low belly, and she shivered again.

He made another rough sound, much like a groan of pain as he loosened his hold and urged her feet to the thick rug spread between the tub and fireplace. Bending forward, he grabbed the towel that had been set in wait for him. He immediately brought it around her, encircling her in the soft, thick flannel. She lifted her arms as he doubled the towel over her breasts and tucked the end to hold it secure. Then he stepped toward her and pulled her back into his arms, as though he couldn’t stand to have her so far away even for a moment.

She sighed and draped her arms around his neck, tipping her face up to his.

And with the fire heating her back and his damp, naked body warming her front, he finally lowered his head. And with the fierce flames of desire dancing in his gaze, he kissed her.

Deep. Heavy. Possessive.

He claimed her with that kiss. Branded her. Consumed her.

And she did the same. Holding him tight against her, she claimed his kiss with every ounce of her need. Every bit of longing she’d been harboring. Rising to her toes, she slid one hand through the hair at his nape to palm his skull, urging the kiss to go deeper. Some deep, dark part of her wanted to bend him to her will—to demand more from him—even as she instinctively craved the pleasure she suspected could only be found in surrender.

As her inner conflict grew, he seemed to sense her turmoil. Thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, he breathed in her heady moan as he swept his arm beneath her legs and lifted her into his arms. A few long strides carried her to his bed, where he laid her down atop the rich black velvet coverlet. Her next breath was a long sigh of pleasure as he settled his full weight atop her. One hard thigh pressed between her legs, his broad chest flattened her breasts, and his arousal burned against her hip. The heavy heat of him pressed her into the mattress until all she knew was the sensation of his body against hers. His hardness against her softness. His passion melding with hers.

Though she loved the way his tongue twirled erotically with hers and his teeth occasionally scraped the swollen fullness of her lips, she discovered a new delight when he slid his mouth down the side of her neck. He teased her with delicate flicks of his tongue, then nipped the muscle that sloped to her shoulder with the edge of his teeth. A new restlessness entered her body, lighting up her nerves and creating a deep arch in her spine.

He hummed his approval and trailed his lips lower, brushing her collarbone, until he encountered the edge of the towel. With another low sound—this one a growl of frustration—he roughly tugged at the cloth binding her. Obeying his command, the flannel fell away from her body, exposing her breasts to his bright gaze. And his ravenous mouth.

The first harsh pull of his mouth on her breast startled her, drawing a swift gasp that slid into a moan as he swirled his tongue around her peaked nipple. She’d never imagined such a deep drawing sensation. The pleasure inspired by his expert lips and tongue on her breast angled acutely through her core to the heated, aching flesh between her legs. But before she could even ask for something she couldn’t name, he knew what she needed. As his attention shifted to the other breast, he began a strong, rhythmic press of his thigh between hers. The firm pressure right where she craved it sent pleasure spiraling through her body. She strained against him, rolling her hips, seeking more.

With a ragged groan, he brought his mouth back to hers for a wet, gasping kiss. Grasping her waist with one hand, he seemed to be trying to still her almost frantic movements, but she couldn’t understand why. Sensations surged within her, needing an outlet. She strained harder beneath him. Needing more, not less.

Finally, the gentle whispered hush of his voice broke through her rioting senses. “Shh, my sweet angel. I’m here. I’ll give you what you need.” The soothing promise in his dark voice softened the edge of hunger raging inside her, and she slowly calmed. “That’s it,” he murmured appreciatively. “You’re all mine until you experience every bit of pleasure I can conjure. But there’s no rush. I’ve finally got you in my bed and I won’t be letting you out anytime soon.”

Dipping his head to nip at her earlobe, he slid his hand up to cover her breast and she sighed. With the flat of his thumb, he lightly circled her nipple. Once. Twice. But when she tried to press herself more fully into his hand, he abruptly released her breast to wrap his hand around the side of her neck and pressed his thumb beneath her chin. Gently but firmly, he urged her head back, until her chin tilted toward the ceiling and her throat was fully exposed.

As he closed his mouth over the pulse at the side of her neck and sucked her flesh in against his teeth, he reached down between their bodies. Shifting to lie beside her, he replaced the hard press of his thigh with the intricate glide of his fingertips. She hadn’t realized how wet she’d gotten until she felt the ease with which his touch slid along her sensitive folds.

His hot moan bathed her throat and his erection pulsed against her hip.

Lark’s inner muscles clenched tightly in a fierce attempt to assuage the hollow ache inside her. The action sent a ripple of pleasure through her, so she did it again. But this time, his broad finger was there, pressing firmly to her opening. The squeeze of her muscles seemed to draw him inside her. She moaned, lifting her hips as he delved deeper, filling her. Answering the call of her body that demanded he ease the relentless aching he’d created.

Knowing what she needed before she could put the feeling into thought, he began a languid thrusting of his finger, then two. In and out of her body. Caressing and stimulating the sensitive channel until she was mindless with the rise of pleasure.

Her fingernails clawed at his shoulders. Her mouth sought his and she devoured his kisses with desperate hunger. And just when she thought she couldn’t take another moment of the wonderful torment, he shifted again. Lowering his hips between her thighs, he urged her legs wide to accept him. As soon as his fingers withdrew from her heat, they were replaced by the smooth, blunt head of his erection. Positioning himself against her, he leveraged himself up on his elbows and framed her face in his hands.

Staring intently, fiercely into her eyes, he pressed forward.

The burning stretch of her body as it struggled to accommodate him was pleasurable in its own way, and she reveled in it. Reveled in the feeling of being claimed by him. Of taking him into her body and claiming him, as well. She lifted her knees and tilted her hips, silently urging him farther. Farther. Until he filled her completely.

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