Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,45

delicious cake. A cake he should not be tasting if she was unwilling.

She leaned closer, making her desires known. Her mouth brushed his lips. Her tongue licked where her lips had touched.

He caught her nape and pressed his mouth to hers. She turned into him, little sounds of approval coming from deep in her throat, her hands caressing his shoulders and arms.

She tasted sweet. Like honey or sugar and something far more exotic.

He breathed deep, inhaling her perfume. Jasmine.

Why was he questioning this? They were both adults, free to make their own decisions. And he’d been looking for this from the moment he had seen her. He would woo her, seduce her and show her a few things her curate husband wouldn’t have known.

He deepened the kiss. Slowly she sank back against the cushions, her body soft and warm beneath him, her hands wandering his bare back in an erotically delicate, yet feverish, exploration.

He experienced a moment of shock as he realised just how much he wanted this woman. Not just carnally, which went without saying, but on some spiritual level, as if closeness with her could somehow beat back the darkness in his life.

A sigh of pleasure as his hand encompassed her breast through her gown drove the annoyingly awkward thought from his mind. His fingers tingled at the wild flutter of her heart beneath the soft flesh, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest with each breath. The desire to please shocked him, but since he wanted her, then he would ensure she wanted him with equal fervour. He would ply all his years of experience to drive this woman mad with longing until she begged for completion.

Slowly, gently, he lifted his lips from hers, lingering only to taste her lips lightly, then brought himself up on his elbows, one each side of her head. He gazed down into her lovely face gilded by firelight. Beautiful did not begin to describe the finely moulded bones beneath the warm-toned skin. There was haughtiness in the high cheekbones and the straight nose. Passion in the full lips reddened and pouting from his kisses. Untapped passion.

Her large dark eyes gazed back at him, heavy lidded and smoky. Lust clawed at his belly at the banked fires he saw in her steady even gaze.

He had the feeling that when those embers burst into flame, they would consume him.

He drew a deep unsteady breath and cradled her face in his hands. ‘You are lovely,’ he whispered.

She smiled her sultry smile and her even white teeth contrasted with the red of her lips. He rubbed his thumb across the fullness of her lower lip. She licked it.

His body clenched with pleasure.

With fingers that shook with the desire gripping his body, he traced the line of cheekbone and jaw. He brushed the back of his hand across the soft hollow of her cheek, pulled her hair free of its pins and speared his fingers in the luxurious black wings of hair at her temples. Soft and thick tresses haloed her face. The face of a temptress.

His body hardened to rock.

He shook his head at her. ‘Who are you?’

Her eyes widened. Her lovely throat moved as she swallowed. ‘Just a woman,’ she said, her throaty voice rough.

‘An unexpected gift,’ he said and bent to plunder her mouth with his tongue.

The soft noise of pleasure from her throat urged him on. He slanted his head for better access to the hot recess of her mouth, and trailed one hand down her length, caressing the deep indent of her waist and the soft swell of her hip. Lovely womanly curves filled his palm and painted a picture of her beautiful body in his mind. He stroked her tongue and she tasted his with an eager enthusiasm that almost unmanned him.

He took a deep steadying breath and bunched the fabric of her skirts, drawing them up to her hips. She gave a little gasp of surprise.

He lifted his head and glanced down at her, questioning.

In that moment, he could have sworn she looked nervous, yet when she smiled and grabbed his shoulders, he decided it was a trick of the light. That her gasp was pleasure, not surprise.

He palmed the long slender thigh, kneading and stroking in turn, slowly pressing his knee between hers.

She shifted beneath him, parting her thighs, welcoming him into the cradle of her hips. Accommodating him as if he belonged there. It felt so damned good. He nuzzled at her neck, blew in