Dancing With Danger (Goode Girls #3) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,34
heard it can be as brief as—”
He’d covered his mouth with his hand, but he couldn’t hide the shake in his shoulders or the creases of mirth at the corner of his eyes.
“You’re laughing,” she accused, incensed. “Is this funny to you?”
“Don’t be irate with me, mon chaton. I scoff only at the idea of a brief encounter between us.”
She knew she looked churlish, but she was trying to decide whether she believed him or not.
His eyes became pools of liquid desire. “With you I intend to take my time. I will make it last until the tolling of the bells warn of the dawn.”
Her thighs quivered. “Oh. Well...I’ll admit that I prefer that. It seems silly for you to come all this way if you’re only going to take all of a few minutes.”
“The home I share with Gabriel is not so far.” He gestured to the west. “But I would have dragged myself through Siberia in winter to be here tonight.”
At this, she smiled, feeling uncharacteristically shy by his unabashed appreciation of her.
“I’m glad,” she murmured. “That we desire each other with equal fervor.”
Oh, now what had she said that was funny?
“Darling,” he managed over his mirth. “If you wanted me like I wanted you, we’d be on our second time by now.”
“Oh. Well...” Not to be outdone in the surprise seduction, she dropped her sheets and let them pool in a white cloud at her waist.
The laughter died with a groan in his throat.
He didn’t just look at her. He consumed the sight of her with an ardent fervor.
“You are stunning, Mercy,” he marveled. “Exceptional. You never cease to astonish me.”
“What do I do that is so surprising?” she wondered aloud.
“Most women would at least make modest, maidenly protestations. Force me to coax them to reveal themselves to me.”
“Most women are trained to act like simpering fools,” she scoffed. “Is that what you want from me?” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, enjoying that he watched how her breasts lifted with the gesture. “Oh, do allow me a moment to swoon here in virginal protestation so I might feel less guilty for succumbing to the seduction of this large and dangerous rogue who is intent upon ravishing my pure and virtuous person. I am an innocent, harmless girl caught in his dastardly web—”
His unexpected touch at her throat seized her breath there.
Her heart skipped a beat, then two, paralyzed as his strong fingers trailed to the back of her neck, pressing deeper against the tight, quivering muscles there.
“In my experience, women are generally arousing or amusing, I’m delighted that you are both.”
“I amuse you?”
“You transfix me, Mercy. You captivate me.”
With deft and clever circles, he found the tender knots in her back and undid them with steady, circling pressure.
He did this to relax her, and it was working.
And...not working.
The strength in his hands was both potent and restrained. She found the dichotomy endlessly erotic.
Hypnotic, even.
Her blood thickened. Slowed to a heavy languor as if warm honey drenched her veins with sweet, treacle sensuality.
Probably she should compliment him, as well. He certainly deserved it.
“You also...intrigue...Oh, that feels so good,” she groaned and closed her eyes in bliss as he found a tender spot and curled his relentless fingers into it.
“Just you wait, mon chaton,” he promised against her ear. “Do not be too easily satisfied. I like a challenge.”
She couldn’t summon the words with which to reply. Not only because of what his diabolical fingers did to her, or the way his words made her heart quiver instead of beat.
But because a wave of aching emotion tumbled over her, swamping her with unidentifiable yearning. Not just for the carnal sensations his touch evoked, but for this affection between them.
This physical touch that was not demanding nor expectant.
Unhurried. Deliberate. Both intimate and innocuous all at once.
She sighed as he released her tresses from their pins, lock by spiraling lock, testing the weight and coil of the curl as if he’d never before threaded fingers through a woman’s hair.
Or never would again.
After a while, he said, “Though you jested before, there is truth in what you said. One you must consider carefully. I am a large and dangerous man... My web is one of deceit and blood.”
“I knew that already. I’m not blind.”
“No.” He leaned forward, brushing the ghost of a kiss against each of her eyelids. “You have excellent, beautiful eyes. You see what most do not.”
“Your flattery will get you nowhere, you cad.” She