Miss Winters Proposes by Frances Fowlkes Page A

fingers slipping into the gap of his shirt and spreading through the swirls of hair covering his body. Her thumb trailed across the flat disc of his nipple.
    “Juliet.” He groaned.
    Her hand splayed across his chest where, as she had hoped, his heart beat as wildly as hers. Was it possible? Could he be as affected by her touch as she was by his?
    His fingers danced across her skin, tugging the already loose neckline of her shift over the top of her breasts. Mimicking her earlier action, he cupped her breast and brushed his thumb across the tip of her nipple.
    “Benjamin.” Her back arched toward him. Heat slivered down her spine.
    Where his thumb had been only moments before, his tongue toyed with her rosy peak. She had never imagined, had never believed…
    She gasped as he recaptured her lips. There was no hesitation, no reserve in the way his tongue intertwined with hers. He was a man bent on meeting her request. And heaven help her, she felt compelled to aid him in his endeavors.
    Sheer pleasure ruled her senses, and with it, a loss of reason and propriety. The only rules in this game were for her own fulfillment—and his. So it was, without a second thought to the matter, Juliet explored the hard planes of his body with her hands, marveling at the dips and swells of his muscles. Her fingers roamed over his heated skin and under his billowing shirt, coming to rest on the curve of his buttocks.
    The sweet smell of liquor on his breath intertwined with the earthen scent of his body, the musky perfume buoying her courage. She splayed her hands and dug her fingers into his flesh, reveling at how his breath caught with each of her movements.
    Gripping her wrist, he settled her hand on the back of his neck. “My turn.”
    “Your turn?” He trailed his hand toward her stomach, his rigid arousal brushing against her thigh. Her insides boiled, the flame he had kindled now a roaring fire tearing through her body, igniting her flesh and making her extra-sensitive to his touch.
    Juliet tensed. Especially when he delved into areas of her body she had never thought to explore. She had certainly never thought them capable of bringing her pleasure, and yet, Benjamin seemed intent on proving her wrong, sliding his fingers into the wet area between her thighs and caressing the silken folds of her womanhood. Each flourish, swipe, and flick of his fingers sent her body into spasms, her voice to a whimper.
    She cradled his hips between her thighs, her back arching into him. “Benjamin, please,” Juliet pleaded, but for what, she wasn’t certain. She simply knew she needed more. There was an ache, a deep need he had created within her, and her body seemed to instinctively know he was the only one who could fill it.
    He touched his forehead to hers, his hands sliding up the sides of her body and making her shiver with delight.
    “This…this might not be pleasant,” he whispered. “I may unintentionally harm you. Are you absolutely certain you wish to proceed?”
    Her ears were deaf to his concerns. How could harm be done when nothing but pleasure had been wrought by his hands thus far?
    She tilted her chin upward and greedily sought his mouth. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. Heavens, yes.
    A shaky breath escaped him and he shifted above her, his hands lifting her thighs. With a grunt, Benjamin slid into her, his hard length slick with the heat pooling between her legs. “Christ, Juliet.” He let out a gasp.
    A sharp pain tore through her middle, causing her to wince.
    He stilled, his arms tensing. “Juliet, I’m sor—”
    She quieted him by wrapping her legs around his back, driving him deeper inside her. Now was not the time for apologies. Not when his arousal throbbed inside her and her body craved his molten caresses.
    His mouth once again found hers, his hands falling to her wrists where he interlaced his fingers with hers. Pulling back his hips, he thrust forward, his body picking up a slow rhythm that sent