eyes, but her quickening breath and hardening nipples bore witness that her desire was assuredly real.
She was aroused, irresistibly so. In the dark confines of the closet, he had explored the curves of her body, had smelled her desire, but had been denied the visual treat. His restraint was slipping. Fast . Thinking to intimidate her, to get the truth out of her, he loomed over her with a tightened grip.
“You truly wish to play this out?” He backed her slowly toward the bed, but to his consternation, she refused to back down.
She met him with a brazen gaze. “Yes.”
Her reply shot a bolt of carnal hunger straight to his groin. Damn her for taking it this far! But if she truly wished to play the wanton with him, as all signs indicated—why the devil should he continue to resist? With agonizing awareness, he sensed the wetness pooling between her thighs, while he stubbornly grappled with the remaining shreds of his conscience. “Do you understand what you’re doing?” he asked, his need growing rampant, uncontainable.
“I’ve been celibate three years. The closet was one thing. Taking you into this bed is quite another. I won’t be gentle. I’m more than likely to fuck you senseless.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I know what I’m doing. And I know what you need.”
She gazed into his eyes and ran her tongue over luscious, pink lips. He was instantly stiff as a spike. He closed his eyes, yet her voice filled his ears with dark and illicit promise. Bloody hell, but this is too much! Far more than any mortal man could be expected to resist.
“I will do anything you want,” she said. “ Anything at all. You will be the king, Ned...and I will be your whore.”
***
Phoebe told herself she was only playing the role of seductress, that she could detach her mind from her rebellious body which seemed to act on its own volition. He had tried to intimidate her, but his ferocious look, his brusque and daunting manner had had quite the opposite effect, inspiring something dark and wild within her.
She watched his face, harsh in the predawn shadows, as she spoke, gauging his raw reaction to her illicit suggestions, her own breath quickening and pulse skittering as the air grew thick with mutual desire.
His breathing was short, his grip on her wrists tightened to a painful intensity. His pupils flared, the warmth of his hazel eyes becoming a blaze of desire. She watched as piece by piece, his control shattered.
Ned’s mouth came down on hers, taking and plundering. She closed her eyes with a low moan, taking him in with all her senses—deeply inhaling the sweetly heady essence of musky male, drinking in the rich taste of him in her mouth, eagerly meeting him in the decadent dance of tongues. He yanked her head back and plunged deeper into her mouth, sucking her tongue, biting her lips, like a man desperately ravaged by hunger and just as she imagined his hot, hard sex would pillage her eager body.
He disengaged only long enough to rip the bedcovers back and tear the shirt over his head, but the seconds apart had her aching with want. His naked torso was a work of sculpted muscle. Her eyes devoured the hard plain of his stomach, the erotic trail of dark hair tracking it to where he fumbled with his breeches. She was mesmerized when his cock sprang eagerly into his hand. Unable to resist the sight of his blatant arousal, she reached out and grasped him, relishing the hot hardness, her inner walls contracting in eager anticipation of the wondrous pulsing sensation in her hand.
She stared into his face. He stared back, his hazel eyes hooded. His body was still but for the erratic rise and fall of his chest. She squeezed lightly, noting the catch of his breath, and her heart raced. His fierce reaction to her slightest touch filled her with a dark and decadent yearning to take him into her mouth. Would he be repulsed by her boldness?
You are Kitty playing the king’s whore. The reminder lifted the shroud of
She was aroused, irresistibly so. In the dark confines of the closet, he had explored the curves of her body, had smelled her desire, but had been denied the visual treat. His restraint was slipping. Fast . Thinking to intimidate her, to get the truth out of her, he loomed over her with a tightened grip.
“You truly wish to play this out?” He backed her slowly toward the bed, but to his consternation, she refused to back down.
She met him with a brazen gaze. “Yes.”
Her reply shot a bolt of carnal hunger straight to his groin. Damn her for taking it this far! But if she truly wished to play the wanton with him, as all signs indicated—why the devil should he continue to resist? With agonizing awareness, he sensed the wetness pooling between her thighs, while he stubbornly grappled with the remaining shreds of his conscience. “Do you understand what you’re doing?” he asked, his need growing rampant, uncontainable.
“I’ve been celibate three years. The closet was one thing. Taking you into this bed is quite another. I won’t be gentle. I’m more than likely to fuck you senseless.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I know what I’m doing. And I know what you need.”
She gazed into his eyes and ran her tongue over luscious, pink lips. He was instantly stiff as a spike. He closed his eyes, yet her voice filled his ears with dark and illicit promise. Bloody hell, but this is too much! Far more than any mortal man could be expected to resist.
“I will do anything you want,” she said. “ Anything at all. You will be the king, Ned...and I will be your whore.”
***
Phoebe told herself she was only playing the role of seductress, that she could detach her mind from her rebellious body which seemed to act on its own volition. He had tried to intimidate her, but his ferocious look, his brusque and daunting manner had had quite the opposite effect, inspiring something dark and wild within her.
She watched his face, harsh in the predawn shadows, as she spoke, gauging his raw reaction to her illicit suggestions, her own breath quickening and pulse skittering as the air grew thick with mutual desire.
His breathing was short, his grip on her wrists tightened to a painful intensity. His pupils flared, the warmth of his hazel eyes becoming a blaze of desire. She watched as piece by piece, his control shattered.
Ned’s mouth came down on hers, taking and plundering. She closed her eyes with a low moan, taking him in with all her senses—deeply inhaling the sweetly heady essence of musky male, drinking in the rich taste of him in her mouth, eagerly meeting him in the decadent dance of tongues. He yanked her head back and plunged deeper into her mouth, sucking her tongue, biting her lips, like a man desperately ravaged by hunger and just as she imagined his hot, hard sex would pillage her eager body.
He disengaged only long enough to rip the bedcovers back and tear the shirt over his head, but the seconds apart had her aching with want. His naked torso was a work of sculpted muscle. Her eyes devoured the hard plain of his stomach, the erotic trail of dark hair tracking it to where he fumbled with his breeches. She was mesmerized when his cock sprang eagerly into his hand. Unable to resist the sight of his blatant arousal, she reached out and grasped him, relishing the hot hardness, her inner walls contracting in eager anticipation of the wondrous pulsing sensation in her hand.
She stared into his face. He stared back, his hazel eyes hooded. His body was still but for the erratic rise and fall of his chest. She squeezed lightly, noting the catch of his breath, and her heart raced. His fierce reaction to her slightest touch filled her with a dark and decadent yearning to take him into her mouth. Would he be repulsed by her boldness?
You are Kitty playing the king’s whore. The reminder lifted the shroud of
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