A Night to Surrender by Tessa Dare Page A

chest, her nipples drawing to taut, needy peaks out of mundane habit. Completely expected, regularly scheduled arousal.
    “Well?” he asked. “Have I made my point? Are you leaving now?”
    “I’m so sorry to disappoint you,” she said, breathing hard. “But it would take far more than that to scare me.”
    A quick flex of his arms, and their bodies collided. And he whispered, just as his mouth fell on hers, “God, I was hoping you’d say that.”

Eight
     
    T his kiss could be the end, Bram knew. He was foolishly, thoroughly kissing Miss Susanna Finch, clutching her slender body to his while he reveled in the faint currant spice of her lips, and this could be the end of everything. The end of all his plans, his military career. Perhaps the end of him , full stop.
    And if that was the case, and he’d impulsively gambled his entire future on a forbidden kiss . . .
    He might as well slow down and do the thing right.
    He let his mouth linger over hers. She hadn’t been kissed much. At least, not properly. He could tell in the way she was struggling to respond. She was unschooled, but she showed great natural aptitude.
    He cradled her neck in one hand. “Softly, love. Let me show you.”
    He teased his lips over hers, brushing from bottom to top. Then again. And then once more, persuading her lips to part. She startled at the first touch of his tongue, but he held her tight until the instinct passed. And then he tasted her. The slow, sweet slide of his tongue against hers had him growling with satisfaction.
    Yes , he told her without words. Yes. Again .
    From their first meeting, he’d suspected this woman to be a temptress in a teapot, and she was proving him right with every tentative stroke of her tongue against his. Her inexperience only made the whole business sweeter. The way she clutched his shirt, chased his teasing tongue, slid her gloved finger along the edge of his unshaven jaw . . . She was inventing these small intimacies as she went, acting out of pure, untutored desire. These weren’t practiced motions, honed on other men.
    They were only for him.
    He deepened the kiss, keeping his rhythm steady and sure. Each time taking just a little more, delving just a fraction deeper. The same way he would make love to her.
    No sooner had the thought surfaced in his mind, than he seized on it. He had to make love to her. Someday. Not today. Today, she was only learning to kiss. She wasn’t ready.
    Bram, by contrast, was ready indeed. Ready, willing, and able. In a mindless, instinctive motion, he pulled her snug against his aching groin. If she could feel the abundant evidence of his arousal, she didn’t shy away. Her breasts eased warm and soft against his chest as she leaned into the kiss.
    Bending his head, he kissed her throat, her ear, losing himself in the scent of her. Her skin smelled of herbs, and she tasted . . . like a memory. A memory of a long-ago summer’s day. Warm sun. Cool, crisp water. Tall grass and a gentle breeze. Everything good and real and fresh. Even her name was a whimsical song.
    “Susanna,” he whispered against her ear.
    She sighed in his arms, as though she loved the sound of her name on his lips.
    So he said it again, murmuring that light, stubborn melody. “Susanna. Susanna fair.” He nuzzled her earlobe, then drew it between his lips, suckling the delicate bud. Her little gasp stoked his desire.
    She made him want so much. Too much. Damn, she made him yearn .
    He kissed her again, taking time to savor each of her plump, lush lips before thrusting his tongue between them. This time, he delved deeper, took more. She made a mewling noise in the back of her throat, less a whimper than an erotic demand. There was urgency in her kiss now, and sweet frustration. He could taste how much she craved his touch, and the knowledge made him wild.
    All this from a few simple kisses, with both of them fully clothed. Good Lord. He ran one hand down her arm and plucked at the topmost