Royal Icing - Aven Ellis Page 0,39

lips to mine again, but this time, his tongue finds the corner of my mouth, then he oh-so-slowly runs his tongue delicately along the seam of my lips. I gasp as he does it, letting his tongue perform this sexy dance without opening for him, enjoying the sensual way he’s discovering me. As soon as he reaches the other side of my mouth, I turn the tables on him. I plunge my fingers into his dark locks and flick my tongue over his sensual mouth, tracing every bit of it with my own tongue. A groan escapes his throat as I taste him, the saltiness of his skin, the hint of mint I detect on his lips.

I feel his body tighten against mine. His hold on me grows firmer. Emboldened, I decide perhaps we should delay this first full kiss a bit longer. Just as his mouth seems ready to open mine, I move back and stare into his eyes. My pulse skyrockets when I see the pure desire in his intense gaze.

All to kiss me.

I allow my gaze to rake over him as my fingers play with his thick hair, the strands feeling like silk as I wind my fingertips in them. Then I draw his head closer and breathe a kiss on the hollow of his neck.

Oh my Christ. A growl escapes his throat, one that is primal and hot and makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive. But my God, he tastes divine. It’s his aftershave, the scent of smoke and sweet, and I let my tongue flicker over his tanned skin, drinking it, savouring it, hardly believing any man could smell and taste so good.

His hand skims down lower, to my bum, and he cups it as I continue to kiss that hollowed spot on his throat and he allows his head to drop back. I’m hot and burning, and I trail the kisses upwards now, to his chin, and then my lips are hovering against his.

“You have the next move,” I whisper against his mouth. “What do you want to explore? My neck or my mouth?”

Xander’s other hand slides up to the back of my head, coiling in my hair, his breathing now coming quickly against my lips.

“Your mouth,” he says, his voice rich with desire and cascading over me in a way that makes goosebumps erupt across my skin. “Your mouth is mine.”

Then his tongue demands entry. I open for him, and his kiss is scorching hot. His tongue is masterful, quickly sweeping into my mouth and branding me as his. I’m shocked to hear the groan that escapes my throat, and Xander responds to it, his lips crushing against mine.

My God, this kiss! It’s hot and passionate and deeply sensual, everything rolled into one glorious moment. Xander’s tongue wars with mine, challenging me for control, which we take turns conceding to each other. I feel his beard burning against my face. I taste mint and salt on his lips and tongue, and my God, he’s delicious. I can feel him drawing my lower lip between his teeth, sucking it, savouring it, and a cry of delight bursts forth from me. Before I can murmur anything else, his tongue is back inside my mouth, demanding more from me.

Which I give him.

Our hands are moving everywhere, as frantic as our tongues are to feel each other. My heart is racing, my senses are in overdrive, and I don’t want to relinquish this moment. I don’t want this kiss to end. I feel the muscles of his back. His face, his glorious hair. His arms. My hands move to his chest, and his heart is pounding fiercely underneath the fabric of his jumper.

Finally, Xander tears his mouth away, gasping for breath. I do the same. I gaze up at him as his chest frantically rises and falls against my palm, and I see a wild, dizzying expression on his face, which causes my nerves to pulsate with excitement.

He moves both hands to my hair, threading his fingers through it, and his eyes stare at me in utter amazement as we stand under the stars that are shining over Kensington Palace this spring evening.

“My God, Poppy,” he says, his voice now etched in surprise. “What just happened?”

I gaze up at him in wonderment. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a kiss like that.”

“No, me neither,” he says, his hands doing such lovely things to my hair, I never want him to stop caressing it. “I thought

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