Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,76

hers, his beard sending a little shiver through her. “Let me show you.”

She made a small sound deep in her throat, but even she couldn’t tell if it was denial or assent.

“We won’t do anything that frightens you,” he assured her. “If you want me to stop, tell me and I’ll stop. If you want me to continue...” He brushed his lips over hers. “Tell me and I’ll continue.”

She was trembling, but the feeling wasn’t unpleasant. Not at all. His mouth felt so warm, his hands so strong, so sure when he touched her.

And he was leaving the decision up to her. She had thought him a callous, unredeemable, selfish rogue... but at the moment he wasn’t being roguish at all. He was being warm, giving.

Caring.

And that, even more than his kiss, made her heart pound so hard that thinking became impossible.

“Samantha?”

“Yes,” she whispered, realizing that her decision had been made perhaps a long time ago. “Yes.”

She barely completed the word when he kissed her again, a soft brush of his mouth over hers that deepened into a slow, hot joining. His arm circled her shoulders and he gently lowered her to the ground, leaning over her in the firelight, his weight on his forearms as his mouth worked tantalizing magic over hers.

She had never known how sensitive her lips could feel. Or how fast her pulse could race. She reached up to pull him closer, threading her fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. With a low groan, he captured her wrists, lightly pinning them to the ground on either side of her head.

Understanding what he wanted, she relented, allowing him to take command, letting herself surrender control. Stretched out beneath him on the warm grass, she felt the last of her hesitation burn to ashes in the fire of his kiss. She let go willingly, allowing herself to be completely open to his touch, completely vulnerable in a way she had never been before.

Her display of trust brought a soft sound from him, almost a sigh, a sound of deep pleasure. He lifted his mouth from hers, kissing her jaw, her cheeks, her nose. And when her eyelids drifted closed, he kissed her lashes.

“That’s right, angel,” he whispered. “Close your eyes and just let yourself feel.”

He released his hold on her wrists, his hands sliding down her arms, down the sides of her body. Through the thin cloth of her silk gown, she could feel him like a fire in her blood. He nibbled at her ear, began a slow, teasing descent down her throat, his lips and tongue sending a rush of sensations cascading through her.

He caught her skin ever so delicately between his teeth, nipping her in a light, fierce way that drew a cry of pleasure from her parted lips. Arching her neck, she offered herself up to him, to these new feelings that made her feel weak and yet strong all at once.

The night air around her, the leaves overhead, even the ground beneath her seemed to crackle with electricity. Like the heat of a lightning strike. Like a summer storm that drenched the earth with hot rain.

Her heart pounding, she kept her eyes closed as her senses came vibrantly alive, engulfed by his musky, masculine scent, the hardness of his body. By his fingers tracing over her, leaving tendrils of fire in their wake. One of his hands shaped her breast and she tensed, but only for a moment.

Because his touch was tender, careful, almost reverent. She could feel the peak drawing tight beneath his thumb, caught her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from crying out. The barrier of silk and lace between his skin and hers created a dozen different, exquisite textures. A restless heat began building deep within her. He traced his thumb around her nipple in a slow circle, coaxing until it rose to a hard pearl, and her breathing became ragged.

When his hand left her, a low moan of protest slipped from her throat. But then he slid her gown from her shoulder, slowly, inch by tantalizing inch, tugging the lacy bodice lower... baring her to the warm night wind.

And she felt his rough, callused fingertips against her skin, touching her in a way no man had ever touched her before. Her lashes lifted but she managed to remain still, trusting him, her palms upturned on the warm grass. Breathless, she watched him. Watched his dark fingers moving over her, caressing the pale