French Kiss (Decadence Nights Book 2) by Maddie Taylor

if you greet me with a kiss.”
    “You’d spank me for car trouble and traffic?” she questioned, her outrage diminished by the slow drag of his lips across his skin.
    “No, I’d punish you because it pleases me to do so.”
    Having anticipated this night since their last meeting, Mari didn’t think, she reacted, tipping her head to the side for the hot lick of his tongue, which quickly replaced his lips. His head came up and he gazed down at her, his eyes homing in on her parted lips.
    “Must I ask twice for my kiss, ma soumise ?”
    “I usually don’t—”
    “Right or wrong, I obliterated that limit last time, there is no going back.”
    And she didn’t want to. His last kiss had been thorough and demanding, sending shivers of desire racing clear down to her toes. It had shattered her resolve and carefully constructed shields, and she wanted to experience more of it. At this rate, she’d be tied to his whipping post and flying, all of her rules and restrictions shredded beyond recognition. Realizing how vulnerable she was, she still tipped her head back, lifting her mouth to meet his.
    The initial soft brush of their lips prompted an immediate response. With a growl of approval, he speared the fingers of one hand through the carefully pinned curls high on her crown and positioned her head to his liking, taking full advantage of her eager offering. Open mouthed, their lips and tongues melded hungrily right there in the midst of the crowd. Despite the rapidly mounting fog of desire that encompassed her, she didn’t fail to notice his other arm encircling her waist or that it bent up along her spine, his hand flattening along her back, the heat of his palm searing into her skin. Once her body was plastered against his from breasts to thighs, he didn’t hesitate before dipping into the back of her dress and palming a cheek as he deepened the kiss. He squeezed heartily and she suspected if his hand hadn’t been encased in poly/spandex, he would have given her a lusty smack. Instead, his fingers molded her flesh, the tips dipping into the cleft between the rounded halves making her gasp for air against his rapacious mouth.
    All too soon, he eased off, dialing the intensity back several notches. For Mari, going from hard and demanding, to leisurely but excruciatingly thorough left her mind and body in a needy spiral.
    “You make me forget my plans for the evening.” His lips brushed hers as he murmured softly. “I thought to dance, have a drink, and chat a bit before I do wickedly imaginative things to your body.”
    She stiffened. “I don’t dance.”
    “ Pardonnez-moi ?” he rejoined, a mild reprimand in his tone at her denial.
    “I don’t mean I was refusing to dance, sir,” she hurried to explain, “it’s that I don’t know how. I never learned.”
    “With this body? It is a crime! But it will be my pleasure to teach you.”
    Releasing his grip on both her bottom and her hair, he turned and with his hand in a more circumspect, but still quite possessive position low on her back, he guided her out onto the dance floor. His right arm encircled her waist as he pulled her snugly against him.
    “Your left hand goes on my right shoulder,” he instructed, waiting for her to do as instructed. When it curved over the taut black silk, her fingers taking in the bunching, rippling, defined muscles underneath, he brought her in closer, curling his arm around her waist until not a glimmer of daylight could be seen between them. His free hand clasped hers and held it curled in his much larger one at his side. Effortlessly, he began to move them both, slowly, seductively to the sounds of John Legend’s “All of Me.”
    “Relax and follow my lead, Mari. Dancing is sensuous, like making love, oui ? Our bodies touching intimately, moving in rhythm, soon the pace of our heartbeats will elevate and our breathing will become more rapid. As we get more daring,” with a subtle touch he spun her out and reeled her