“Nor do I regret what happened beneath the stage.”
She watched her words land on him and sink in. Until now, there had been a distance in his eyes, as if he wouldn’t let him himself fully believe what she was asking of him. Now, that distance faded, and in its place expanded belief and intensity.
“Thiswon’t bethat, Delilah. It will bemore.”
A shiver traced through her, lighting up every nerve ending in its path, settling deep in her center where it became a heavy throb of carnal need. She was nearly breathless with it. “Is that a promise?”
“You’re being incorrigible.”
“I thought you admired my passion.”
“You’re twisting my words.”
She lowered over him until her mouth touched his ear. “Good,” she whispered. “I shall twist and twist until I’ve squeezed what I want from them.”
“And what is that?”
“You.”
Chapter Eight
And Delilah, atlast, noticed.
It wasn’t simply his solid form that she was straddling.
It was his solid length beneath her…his manhood…him.
The somethingmorehe would give her.
It struck her like a boltthiswas what she’d been so empty for. She’d neededthisto fill her. Instinctively, she moved her hips and ground against his hard, thick shaft.
His intense golden gaze half-lidded, a groan rumbled deep through his chest.
His responding lust sent a feeling rippling through her. It wasn’t only her lust she wanted to sate; she wanted to sate his, too.
“Oh, Sebastian, I need you inside me.”
“This’ll be a deal more pleasurable if you consent to release my hands.”
Her grip relented, and he reached up and took her face in his hands, his skin deliciously warm against the cool of her cheeks. “You are so beautiful, Delilah,” he said into the space between their mouths.
She didn’t make a face or try to avoid the compliment the way she usually did. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a concept of her beauty—she did. Her sort of beauty was quite popular in the annals of Western art—but she always took the compliment for what it was. A man’s calculation to see how far he could get with her.
With Ravensworth, it wasn’t so.
Such words from him were worth more than the breath they were spoken upon.
“Youare beautiful, Sebastian,” fell from her mouth.
His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Likely, he’d never been on the receiving end of that particular compliment. Still, he took her words in and appreciated them as she had his. His long, masculine fingers twined through her curls. “I like your hair.”
“Isn’t it too short?” Everyone said so.
He shook his head. “It’s perfect for you.”
That was, everyone said so—except Sebastian.
Unable to take any more, she inelegantly pitched forward and planted her mouth on his. Well, one thing was certain. He was certainly better at kissing than she.
