He rose from his desk to move towards her. She stared down at the handkerchief as her vision blurred. It was smudged with red.
She stood in a panic, keeping herself turned. ‘I have to go.’
‘Yan Ling.’
His voice was louder this time. Closer. She tried to slip past. Wouldn’t look even when his hands closed around her shoulders.
In the next moment, she caught a glimpse of Fei Long’s face, of his dark and tortured eyes. A muscle tensed along his jaw before he lowered his head.
Her breath rushed from her at the first touch of his mouth. His hand lifted to slide over the back of her neck while his kiss soothed over lips still sensitive from the rough scouring she’d given them. Yan Ling trembled, confused. A lost sound escaped from her.
With that, Fei Long broke the kiss. His fingers lingered on the side of her neck while he looked at her, an unspeakable question in his eyes. He was breathing hard.
Her thoughts came too fast. This was more than just the press of lips together. Fei Long’s touch burned away all memory of Bai Shen’s kiss. There was no mistaking this. Fei Long desired her. He desired her the way she desired him.
His lips parted as if to speak, but he said nothing. He started to pull away, but she couldn’t let that happen. Not after she’d yearned for him for so long.
She came to him, tilting her head up. Her heart thudded with so much force she shook with it. She wanted so much to glance away. To hide. Fei Long was so masculine and so beautiful that it frightened her.
He took her chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb caressed her cheek and her chest seized.
‘Yan Ling.’ The third time he’d said her name, and each time so different. This was the one that pierced her. His voice burrowed so deep that she ached inside.
She dug hers fingers into the hard muscle of his arms as his head lowered. He tipped her chin gently to receive the kiss and a breathless hunger took over as he claimed her with his mouth. Harder this time. He used his tongue to taste her and she gasped—excited, frightened. With his hands against the small of her back, he pressed his body hard against her, making her knees go soft. Whatever came next, she wanted it.
Suddenly, his hands tightened over her hips. He held her so fiercely it was nearly painful. She could feel the heat of his skin and the taut coil of muscle and sinew through his robe. A shudder ran through him.
He pulled away roughly then, holding her at arm’s length when he couldn’t get enough of her only moments earlier. His chest heaved as he stared at her as if he didn’t know what had just happened. But she knew, in every part of her, to the very tips of her fingers and toes.
‘Forgive me,’ he breathed.
It was the first time he’d apologised since she’d met him. For the one thing she’d wanted more than anything else for him to do.
With surprising calmness, Fei Long went to the door. Before she understood what was happening, he’d left her. Yan Ling remained alone in the study with her heart caught in her throat. The heat of his embrace slowly ebbed from her skin until she was left cold.
Chapter Fourteen
He had to put an end to this.
Fei Long retreated to his chamber where he soaked a washcloth and ran it over his face. The cooling effect of the water was only temporary. He had to leave the house. Perhaps ride out to the parks outside the city.
Because Yan Ling tasted like cloves and honey and he had to get away. He doused himself with more water.
Avoidance hadn’t resolved anything. Being away from her only left him wanting, which led to the disaster in the study. He could control these feelings. He had to control them.
These urges were entirely inappropriate. He was master of the house, not a creature of impulse and passion. What he needed was a strict plan of action. He left his chamber and found Dao at the front of the house, dusting the furniture and antiques.
The girl straightened and bowed, surprised to see him. ‘Lord Chang.’
‘Have Miss Yan Ling join me for dinner tonight.’
‘I’ll tell her, my lord.’ She regarded him while a band of heat circled his neck like a noose. Was that disapproval