Dark Obsession by Allison Chase Page A

He chanced a sweeping caress along her bare arm, ending at the satin curve of her shoulder. There his fingers lingered in a seductive dance against her skin.
    ‘‘Stay,’’ she whispered, and closed the space between their lips.
    His hand slid into her hair, sifting the heavy gloss through his fingers as their limbs entwined, their mouths merged. She wilted against him. His blood caught fire. As he’d done earlier, he scooped her into his arms and brought her back to the bed.
    Once there he distracted her with kisses while he set about undoing the buttons down the front of her nightgown. He went slowly, careful not to raise her ire, as he seemed more than adept at doing.
    ‘‘My neckcloth . . . untie it.’’ He remembered to add a ‘‘please,’’ and she tugged at the knot, making surprisingly short work of it. Soon his collar sprang open. She raised a poignantly uncertain gaze. He grinned, warming once more to the charade, thoroughly enjoying it now. He nodded and whispered, ‘‘The buttons too.’’
    Meanwhile her neckline dropped a fraction more with each button he released, exposing the valley between her breasts. When she didn’t flinch or send him a severe look, he dipped his head and nuzzled. ‘‘Tell me what you like, Honora,’’ he murmured against her.
    ‘‘I’d . . . like you to call me Nora.’’
    He nodded, rubbing his nose up and down her supple flesh. ‘‘You may call me Gray if you wish. All my very closest friends do.’’
    ‘‘Gray,’’ she obeyed breathlessly.
    ‘‘There, that brings my list of closest friends to two. You and Chad.’’
    She gave a dubious chuckle, as if disbelieving his little confession. He let it drop and whispered, ‘‘Tell me what you want, Nora. Tell me what you wish me to do and I’ll do it.’’
    He risked allowing his tongue to graze the cleft of her bosom. She shuddered, her breasts quivering against his face, cutting off breath for one delicious instant.
    Desire thundered inside him. He released another two buttons. Her nightgown slithered over her shoulders, as exquisite as fine bisque. He kissed his way from one to the other.
    ‘‘Do you like this, Nora?’’
    The word yes rode a tremulous breath.
    ‘‘I’d like it if you touched me too.’’
    Her hands found their way beneath his shirt and inch by inch she raised the hem. He helped her bare his stomach and chest, grasping her hands and raising them until together they stripped the garment over his head.
    With a trembling sigh she grazed the muscles of his torso, making them quiver. Her eyes were wide, darkly dilated. He tossed the shirt away, then peeled the remaining scrap of nightgown from her breasts and pressed her to his naked chest.
    ‘‘By Christ . . .’’ His oath tore from deep inside. He gripped her waist, fingers of both hands splayed across her hips, and rocked her against his arousal. Only this demure game they were playing prevented him from tossing her down and plunging into her.
    He set his open mouth to her neck, sucking gently but deeply, sure to leave a mark. Against the thrashing pulse in her throat he murmured, ‘‘Command me, my darling.’’
    Her words were garbled, thick with passion. Her lips, hot and swollen, worked silently, and then he quite distinctly heard, ‘‘. . . the first time.’’
    Ah yes, he understood. ‘‘You wish it to be as your first time.’’
    She went still in his arms and stared back at him, her eyes fever bright. Her cheeks were burnished, her breasts flushed and ruby-tipped with passion.
    He smiled. ‘‘And so it shall be, my lady.’’
    Slowly, meticulously, he lowered her to the bed. He eased the nightgown over her hips until it slid down her legs and floated to join his shirt on the floor.
    ‘‘Ah, Nora, such legs.’’ His pulse gave a lurch. As petite as she was, those legs seemed endless in proportion. Smooth and long, pleasingly round in the knee, enticingly plump at the thighs. Her skin glowed coppery in the