Glitter - Abbi Glines Page 0,71

again something I had read about. One did not read the Marquis de Sade and not become well-educated in intimate things. However, I realized my education by the written word only was incomplete. One must experience such things to truly understand them.

Slowly, for I wasn’t sure if the next moment I would regret this or not, I too opened my mouth beneath his and inhaled sharply in anticipation. Was this to be sweet and easy or something more intense? My hands gripped his arms tightly and as I did so, Ashington’s right hand slid to my back, pressing me closer until our bodies had nothing but the fabric of our clothing between us. My breathing hitched at the thought, but I had little time to dwell on it when I was lifted from the ground and placed on a table.

Ashington stood between my legs as he continued the kiss that had become something more untamed. It felt as if he might devour me or I him. My hands slid up his arms and into his hair of their own accord, and I craved to taste more and draw closer to him. He smelled of sweet wine and cinnamon. It was intoxicating and seemed to only cause me to cling to him more desperately.

He stepped closer to me and one of his hands slid over the top of my thigh. The sharp ache that shot through me, beginning at my most sensitive area, caused me to gasp. My hands tightened in his hair and he inhaled sharply, pausing the kiss.

I had a moment to catch my breath, but the sweet throbbing that had started between my legs was not easing as his body pressed so very close. Opening my eyes slowly, afraid this was all going to end, and wanting to be lost in the sensations that were now teasing me with what more there may be to all of this, I braced myself and looked at Ashington.

The flare of heat in his eyes as he watched me, once again, took my breath away. It was as if everything I was experiencing in my body was there in his gaze. Perhaps this was a reflection of my soul or more likely my wanton desire. For although I knew this was not proper and very dangerous, I wanted more. The sensations were all new to me and I now understood why ladies lost their morals and fell into bed with a man. Tossing away their good name for a moment like this one was an easier accident than I had once thought.

Ashington moved the hand that was on my thigh and I wanted to protest, but when I felt his fingers brush the bare skin of my calf, any words I would have spoken were forgotten. His hand moved ever so slowly up my bare leg and under the night gown until he was once again at the top of my thigh. My nails dug into his forearms as my body hummed with anticipation. The ache between my legs was more intense than any sexual description in a book I had stumbled upon had caused. I felt the urge to beg for release, but I did not speak. I dropped my gaze from his and watched his hand under the cotton material of my gown.

His hand moved to the inside of my thigh and paused for just a moment before his fingers brushed closer to where I knew he should not touch, but I wanted so desperately to be touched there I feared I would cry if he stopped.

Once again, his mouth was on mine and I moved even closer, unable to wait any longer. When his fingers finally met the throbbing heat, I made a sound something close to a cry or possibly a plea. Whatever the sound, it was enough to end the slow torture. Ashington moved quickly then. My nightgown was completely bunched at my waist and my legs opened farther as his right hand covered my needy core and his left hand pulled my neckline down, causing the fabric to tear as he bared my breasts.

I thought for the briefest of moments that protesting and covering myself was what I should do, but one single finger began to fill me and the need that was growing flamed brighter. My hips moved against him and I moaned unable to control my body. It was delicious and intoxicating. Nothing mattered but this. I wanted to feel this way always.

Ashington moved