Page 61 of Seducing the Knave

Her moan mingled with his as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed, where they fell together onto the lush velvet. Though his large, muscled body landed half-atop hers, she welcomed his weight. She wanted more of it—more of everything. With restless movements and clenching hands, she tried to pull him closer—tried to claim him in the same way he was claiming her with his kiss.

At first, he seemed to be resisting her efforts, but then—all of a sudden—he wasn’t.

His kiss shifted from harsh and possessive to something more languid and purposeful as he wedged a hard thigh high between her legs. The pressure he exerted there—against her heated core—triggered a response deep inside. A tightening and a sweet, sultry ache. Her spine bowed and she tipped her head back to catch her breath.

His mouth fell immediately to the side of her throat, where he sucked her skin roughly against the edge of his teeth.

Elle gasped and shivered.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his tongue flicking at her racing pulse. “Give yerself over, luv. I’ve got ye.”

Through the desirous haze engulfing her sense, Elle struggled to understand his words. She needed him to kiss her. Touch her. Settle his weight more fully on top of her.

She couldn’t put her suddenly desperate needs into words, but she could still move. Sliding her hands up the smooth, toned surface of his back, she curled her fingers over his shoulders and rolled her body beneath him, tilting her pelvis and lifting her breasts.

His answering groan was rich and sensual. The arm he still had wrapped around her waist tightened, momentarily stealing her breath. At the same time, he raised his knee against the mattress, pressing the hard surface of his thigh more firmly to her core.

A delicious sensation pulsed through that aching flesh, drawing a choked gasp from her lips and tightening her belly.

“Hmm,” he breathed against her throat, the sound heavy and thick. “Tell me what ye’re feeling.”

He slipped his hand beneath her buttocks and rocked her hips against him.

Her breath turned to a throaty moan as more pleasure rippled through her body, lighting her up, awakening things inside her she hadn’t known existed.

“Tell me,” he growled.

“I feel...” she gasped, “I feel...like something new is twisting through me...something desperate...and needful.”

The sound he made then was beautifully rough. It sunk into her bones and swirled through her blood.

Then he suddenly reached down to grasp a handful of her skirts. Within a moment, her legs were bared and he’d delved his hand beneath the dress to wrap his warm, rough palm around her inner thigh.

Elle’s gaze flickered helplessly up to meet his, so dark and glittering. And hungry.

Her heart stopped. They stared at each other like that—breath short between parted lips, eyes glistening with rising desire, bodies fitting and forming to each other.

Then he rolled his lips against his velvet tongue. Elle nearly whimpered at the sight of it.

The faintest smirk touched at the corner of his mouth as he gave a gentle squeeze of her soft thigh. “Needful is good, luv,” he whispered, “but I want ye slick and aching.”

I do ache, she wanted to say, so much and everywhere.

But he took her mouth again in another fierce, erotic kiss. Thrusting his tongue deep, he seemed intent on somehow marking her. Dominating her. Claiming her.

And though a part of her was compelled to do the same in return—to catch his gorgeous lower lip with her teeth, to suck on his tongue, to take more of him—another, currently stronger, part of her was desperate to be taken.

The growl that rose up from his chest startled her as he tore himself away, rising to his knees. Elle gasped. Her hands fell to the bed.

But before her confusion could even set in, he was reaching for her, sliding his hands around her back to pry at the row of buttons securing her dress. With a harsh grunt, he tore the dress apart in one swift and violent movement. Then he whipped the gaping material up over her head before tossing it carelessly to the floor.

Elle was left in nothing but a thin chemise.

Looking up at him then—as he kneeled between her spread legs, his hands fisted atop his rock-hard thighs, his chest lifting with a deep breath as he stared down at her with such a ferocious kind of heat—Elle felt more beautiful and more powerful than she ever had in her life.

The sensation was heady and consuming. She felt at once revered and depraved. Possessed and utterly liberated. The pure need in his eyes seemed to feed her very soul. And the briefest moment of hesitation he displayed before he swiftly started to disrobe caught at something delicate and defenseless inside her.

As he bared himself down to the waist, Elle’s eyes widened to take in the masculine beauty of his form, but he didn’t allow her nearly enough time to admire him as he lowered himself to all fours over her.

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