When a Rogue Meets His Match - Elizabeth Hoyt Page 0,146
not taking, only asking.
Adeline slid her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and cupped his face in her hands. The short stubble on his cheeks was rough beneath her fingers, his skin warm. “Kiss me,” she said.
Very slowly, he brought his mouth to hers. It started gently at first, her lips tasting his, teasing and exploring the feel of him. One of his hands slid up her back, pulling her more firmly against him as he deepened the kiss. She parted her lips instantly, reveling in the heady feel of his tongue stroking hers, the heat and rhythm of his kiss making the pulsing throb between her legs intensify into an unbearable ache.
Her hips tipped involuntarily, wanting to feel more of him.
He groaned deep in his throat, a raw, unguarded sound that made her pulse skip. His unmistakable arousal was thick and hard beneath the fall of his trousers, pressing against her lower abdomen. That he was just as vulnerable to whatever this was between them was electrifying.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment you stepped into my study,” he said roughly. He nudged his thigh in between hers, pressing her back up against the cold glass of the window. With smooth motions he pulled her coat from her shoulders and let it drop, tracing the ridges of her collarbones beneath her shirt.
Adeline closed her eyes, letting the sensation of his touch flood through her. His hands dropped to cup her breasts through the worn linen of her shirt, his thumbs gliding over her nipples. She moaned softly and arched, pushing herself more fully into his hands. His mouth drifted along her jaw, leaving embers over her skin in their wake.
Adeline dropped her own hands, her fingers yanking the hem of his shirt from his waistband and then pushing the fabric up to explore the planes of his abdomen and chest. His muscles contracted beneath her touch, and his breath hissed in her ear.
He shifted, and then his hands were cupping her buttocks, lifting her against him. Adeline gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, the bulge in his trousers now pressed exactly where she needed it most. She twined her arms around his neck as he kissed her savagely, surrendering her mouth to his.
This time it was King who rocked his hips into her, his tongue and his body once again keeping time.
“Yes,” she gasped against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
There was something incredibly devastating about being wrapped around this man as he slowly took her apart, kiss by kiss, touch by touch. As if there were no real break to determine where he ended and she started.
He dropped his head, dragging his tongue over the hollow at the base of her throat, and Adeline moaned again. He nuzzled lower, and Adeline tipped her head back, and then his mouth was on her nipple, sucking through the threadbare linen. His teeth grazed the peak, sending a bolt of fire through her, and she bucked against him.
“Please,” she whispered.
He did it again, this time paying homage to her other breast as his hips rolled steadily, bringing her to the brink. His hands gripped her hard against him, and that perfect pressure sent her tumbling over the edge.
Adeline curled her fingers into the back of his hair as white-hot pinwheels of ecstasy exploded behind her eyelids. Her entire body bowed, every muscle clenching as bright, blinding pleasure streaked through her, pulsing and pounding. King held her the entire time, pressed relentlessly to him as she rode out each wave, without giving her quarter.
Adeline’s head fell to his shoulder, panting. He had just unraveled her fully clothed against a damn window. And holy hell, she wanted to experience that all again, but this time with him buried deep inside her. This time with nothing between their bodies.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered. “Now.”
King made a feral noise and spun her away from the window, carrying her over to his bed. He set her down on the coverlet, one knee between her legs, one hand braced at her shoulder. His eyes were blue flames again, his breathing ragged, his arousal undeniable.
Adeline sprawled on the bed, breathless and aching, her clothing in disarray and her hair jumbled around her. She had never felt so gloriously feminine. So gloriously powerful.
She lifted her arm and trailed a finger down his chest and abdomen, stopping at the waistband of his trousers. “Let me see you,” she whispered. “All of you.”