When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal #4) - Stacy Reid Page 0,31

senses seemed more alive. Then he whirled around, and in two long strides, he was before her. This time he held her cheeks with both palms, lifted her face, and his mouth caught her cry of surprise.

Dear God.

It felt as if everything calm in Phoebe’s world was torn asunder. The stroke of his tongue against hers jolted through her body, set her heart pounding, and heated the blood in her veins. He tasted of all the passion she’d once dreamed about, and like fire, whisky, something wicked and delicious. In his touch, she felt the unspoken promise that she would be treasured, and to Phoebe the notion she might yearn for such a commitment from this man, this stranger, frightened her immensely.

Even as she responded to his kiss with flaming hunger and surprised wonder, she wrapped her heart in layers of protective ice, and she knew at that moment just as she must care and protect her child against all harm, she would also have to be diligent in safeguarding her heart from all false expectations.

…

He’d only meant to reassure that he would marry her, for he’d suspected the fears of an uncertain future would keep her awake. Hugh did not expect this—a surge of desire so powerful, the hands cupping her cheeks shook slightly. He was not a man with vast sexual conquests, only having had two lovers previously, but nothing had ever evoked his hunger this quickly or arrested all his senses with just a kiss.

It felt alarming and unquestionably evocative. He could feel the wild flutter of her heartbeat underneath his fingers pressed into the curve of her throat. With an inarticulate murmur, she slipped her hands around his nape and gripped his hair in a fierce clasp. The mound of her belly prevented him from pressing her body closer to his.

Hugh had never been the type of man given to flights of fancy. But the press of her mouth against his felt…as if it was meant to be. Her lips trembled against his, and he felt the shock that went through her when he nibbled along the seam of her lips.

Her kiss was heaven, a taste of sin, and another single shocking truth revealed itself when she gasped, parted her lips on a sigh of want and evident confusion, allowing him deeper.

She had never been kissed. At least not properly…not carnally…not like this.

Another whimper passed from her mouth to his, and he swallowed that small hungry noise, reveling in the beauty of her response. With a gasp, she pulled away from him, and he released her. In her gaze, he saw a similar need and a curl of fright. That bothered him. Passion was a good thing between them, and that should be enough to keep some spark in a marriage that might grow tedious. Especially considering he didn’t expect much to bloom in their union of convenience.

“Kisses are not supposed to feel like that,” she said, pressing the flat of her palm to her chest. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were lushly swollen from his kisses. And her golden-brown eyes glowed with heart-stopping vulnerability.

A stunningly powerful rush of tenderness went through him. His fingers leaped to life before he thought. “Then what are they supposed to feel like?” Even though the kisses he’d had before had never been like this, a mere brush of her mouth had him aroused, as if he were once again a lad experiencing his first brush with passion—utter rubbish. With a deep breath, he mastered the fleeting, out-of-control sensation.

“I… Would you like to write it?”

A bite of frustration that he was not able to communicate freely went through him, a feeling he hadn’t had in years. Hugh shook his head and dipped into a short bow. Then he signed good night, turned away, and departed her room, very conscious of her gaze boring into his back.

It was quite unusual to Hugh that he was so aware of her. Even now, as he made his way to the library on the first floor, the taste of her lingered on his tongue, and he could still smell her scent of roses and jasmine. The slight weight of her against his body had been one of the most satisfying feelings he’d ever had. And she was to be his wife.

He entered the library, pleased to see the lamps were still lit and a fire shaved the chill from the large room. Sitting behind the exquisitely carved oak desk, he withdrew a few