A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,61

shifted closer, their thighs nearly touching. He could feel the heat of her body, which served to stir him more.

Some primal part of himself felt as if she were his. Was it so wrong to want a taste of her?

Her hand moved from the paper to her lap, and he looked up to see her eyes fastened on him, twin pools of awareness, suggesting she waited for him to say or do something. Her lips parted and her tongue appeared briefly to moisten them.

Damn. She left him no choice. Just one taste.

He gently placed his hand on her thigh as he leaned close and captured her lips with his. They fit together perfectly. Did she have any idea how much he desired her? Needing more, he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, rewarded when they parted and allowed him entrance. She tasted even sweeter than he remembered.

Her response was more than he could’ve asked for. The feel of her hand along his jaw sent his heart hammering. He imagined those soft, delicate fingers exploring other areas of his body. His hand eased along her thigh, massaging the firm flesh beneath her gown. He could clearly see her curves in his mind’s eye, and they were perfect. She was perfect. Perfect for him.

He shifted his hand to her narrow waist and squeezed gently before lowering it to her hip and holding tight.

Her soft moan broke their kiss as she moved closer. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers along his spine.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered. “So lovely.”

“Thomas.” His name on her lips sounded like a plea. What could he do but respond?

He reached to lift her gently onto his lap, loving the feel of her rounded bottom against him. He kissed her with all the skill he had, giving into the passion threatening to pull him under, much like a wave on the beach, crashing as the tide rolled in, sucking him deeper into the pool of desire.

All thought fell away as she shifted on his lap to wrap her arms around his shoulders, her movement teasing him. Damn, but he wanted her. Burned for her. He held her waist then eased upward in search of the swell of her breast. She arched in response as if she wanted his touch as much as he wanted to caress her.

He cupped the weight of her breast, molding the bottom of it with the hope of pleasing them both before at last seeking the tip. Her nipple was firm through the fabric, and he gently rolled it with his fingers.

She drew back, her breath coming in soft gasps even as her hip shifted against his swelling manhood. He moved as well, wanting her to know how much he desired her.

Her response was more than he could’ve hoped for. Already he could see her in his bed, her hair spilling across his pillow as he explored her curves.

The sound of a feminine throat clearing had them pulling apart. It took a moment for the haze to clear from Thomas’s thoughts before he looked at the doorway to find Lady Aberland standing there, one brow raised in disapproval.

Annabelle jerked to her feet. “Caroline. I didn’t realize you had returned.”

“Lady Aberland.” Thomas rose to bow, aware his passion for Annabelle would be clearly visible by the ridge in his breeches, but there was little he could do about it.

A glance at Annabelle showed her cheeks were a delightful shade of rose even as she worried her lower lip. “I invited Mr. Raybourne in so we could discuss the clues we have thus far.”

Lady Aberland walked slowly forward, a puzzled expression coming over her face as she studied the still blank sheet of paper. “Oh? And how is that progressing?”

“We were just getting started.” Annabelle seemed to gather herself and gave her sister a pointed glare as if to suggest she stop her teasing. “Perhaps you’d like to join us.”

“I’ll leave that to Richard, who will be along shortly.” Her glare directed the statement at Thomas as if to remind him to behave himself.

Thomas was relieved Lady Aberland had been the one to interrupt them rather than her husband. While he and Annabelle might be betrothed, they were not yet married. But he was looking forward to that day even more now.

~*~

Thomas sat next to Aberland in the comfortable wingback chairs at Brooks’s, a drink at each of their elbows.

Three long days and nights had passed since