easy.”
“I rather think it is me who is doing the seducing. The older taking advantage of the—”
His hand dipped inside her gown’s bodice and cupped her breast, and she could not have continued if her life had depended upon it. Her small breasts had always been her greatest embarrassment.
“You were saying?” Without preamble, he pushed her breast past the edge of her gown, exposing the nipple. He leaned in and took the whole of it into his mouth; his tongue swirling the suddenly ruched tip.
Oh God. What was he doing? Worse, what was she doing?
Or what should she not be doing? She didn’t want to have to think. She just wanted to do. To experience. To live. Was it wrong? For her entire life she had always taken the high road, taken the correct, moral road. She was the patron saint of always doing the proper thing.
“Why do I suddenly get the feeling that I’m the only one enjoying this?” Alex nipped the bud of her breast and then examined her face with his hooded eyes.
“What would you do if I agreed?” she asked, her voice uneven.
“I’d know that I’m going about this all wrong.”
She exhaled with a shaky laugh.
“Let’s start again from the top.” Despite the humor in his words, his dark eyes were still studying her, gauging her. “Look, it’s all right if we just don’t remove all our clothes, right?”
She looked at him, and finally laughed, relaxing her nerves. “How many have fallen for that ruse?”
“You’d be surprised.”
She pushed slightly away, regret obvious in her action.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, gently pulling her back. “This was all your idea, remember?”
“Yes. The best bad idea I’ve had so far. I remember,” she mumbled.
He laughed. “It isn’t so bad after all. All in all I would say it was an excellent idea.”
“You would say that. You’re French.”
“Half. The English part of me will be begging your forgiveness tomorrow for taking advantage of your suggestion tonight. It might even include a sorrowful yet dutiful proposal of marriage.”
“Which you will offer only because you know I will refuse since I am already married .” The last she said with exasperation.
“Look . . . just stay,” he growled. “You can hit me, blame me, whatever you like, but I don’t want to let you go.”
“It’s hard to resist an offer like that,” she said, biting back a smile. It felt so right . . . to be able to speak her mind. Not to hold back. Not to put on airs or walk on eggshells. No matter what she said to this man, he never became angry or sullen, or disagreeable. And he didn’t lie to her. At least she hoped he did not. More to the point, he spoke to her as an equal.
And now he was as good as his words and changed tactics. He leaned in and kissed her. Not the earlier gentle, slow kisses. These were primal, male, I’ve-got-you-and-you-won’t-say-no arrogant kisses. He nipped at her upper lip and demanded entrance. And when she capitulated, he ransacked her emotions with that hellish tongue that made her want more. His hand held the back of her head in place and she could do naught but keep her balance during the onslaught. This was not the kiss of a gentleman. It was the kiss of someone who knew all about pleasure, and was used to getting his way, since no woman in her right mind would ever deny him.
And she was definitely in her right mind.
His gaze drifted to her exposed breast. “Such beauty, such—No, I won’t say . . .”
If she didn’t know better, he almost seemed three sheets to the wind.
“I’ll just show . . .”
The tip of her breast was so tight it ached. As if he could read her mind, he again drifted down and soothed her tender flesh with his mouth. She could have shouted for the pleasure coursing through her, all emanating from that one delicate point on her body. His tongue teased her, licked her, and gently nipped her, causing violent sensations unlike any she had ever known.
And that was just
“I rather think it is me who is doing the seducing. The older taking advantage of the—”
His hand dipped inside her gown’s bodice and cupped her breast, and she could not have continued if her life had depended upon it. Her small breasts had always been her greatest embarrassment.
“You were saying?” Without preamble, he pushed her breast past the edge of her gown, exposing the nipple. He leaned in and took the whole of it into his mouth; his tongue swirling the suddenly ruched tip.
Oh God. What was he doing? Worse, what was she doing?
Or what should she not be doing? She didn’t want to have to think. She just wanted to do. To experience. To live. Was it wrong? For her entire life she had always taken the high road, taken the correct, moral road. She was the patron saint of always doing the proper thing.
“Why do I suddenly get the feeling that I’m the only one enjoying this?” Alex nipped the bud of her breast and then examined her face with his hooded eyes.
“What would you do if I agreed?” she asked, her voice uneven.
“I’d know that I’m going about this all wrong.”
She exhaled with a shaky laugh.
“Let’s start again from the top.” Despite the humor in his words, his dark eyes were still studying her, gauging her. “Look, it’s all right if we just don’t remove all our clothes, right?”
She looked at him, and finally laughed, relaxing her nerves. “How many have fallen for that ruse?”
“You’d be surprised.”
She pushed slightly away, regret obvious in her action.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, gently pulling her back. “This was all your idea, remember?”
“Yes. The best bad idea I’ve had so far. I remember,” she mumbled.
He laughed. “It isn’t so bad after all. All in all I would say it was an excellent idea.”
“You would say that. You’re French.”
“Half. The English part of me will be begging your forgiveness tomorrow for taking advantage of your suggestion tonight. It might even include a sorrowful yet dutiful proposal of marriage.”
“Which you will offer only because you know I will refuse since I am already married .” The last she said with exasperation.
“Look . . . just stay,” he growled. “You can hit me, blame me, whatever you like, but I don’t want to let you go.”
“It’s hard to resist an offer like that,” she said, biting back a smile. It felt so right . . . to be able to speak her mind. Not to hold back. Not to put on airs or walk on eggshells. No matter what she said to this man, he never became angry or sullen, or disagreeable. And he didn’t lie to her. At least she hoped he did not. More to the point, he spoke to her as an equal.
And now he was as good as his words and changed tactics. He leaned in and kissed her. Not the earlier gentle, slow kisses. These were primal, male, I’ve-got-you-and-you-won’t-say-no arrogant kisses. He nipped at her upper lip and demanded entrance. And when she capitulated, he ransacked her emotions with that hellish tongue that made her want more. His hand held the back of her head in place and she could do naught but keep her balance during the onslaught. This was not the kiss of a gentleman. It was the kiss of someone who knew all about pleasure, and was used to getting his way, since no woman in her right mind would ever deny him.
And she was definitely in her right mind.
His gaze drifted to her exposed breast. “Such beauty, such—No, I won’t say . . .”
If she didn’t know better, he almost seemed three sheets to the wind.
“I’ll just show . . .”
The tip of her breast was so tight it ached. As if he could read her mind, he again drifted down and soothed her tender flesh with his mouth. She could have shouted for the pleasure coursing through her, all emanating from that one delicate point on her body. His tongue teased her, licked her, and gently nipped her, causing violent sensations unlike any she had ever known.
And that was just
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