This time, the smile did reach his lips. She felt it against her mouth. She would be mortified if she didn’t want him so badly.
She planted her palms to either side of his head and began to push away, and possibly apologize, and then likely beg him to give her another chance. But his hands tightened on her back, and he gave her no room to wriggle away. “You’re alright, Delilah,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His hold on her shifted—one hand cupping the back of her head, the other sliding down her back over the curve of her waist until it rounded over her bottom and squeezed, grinding her against his rigid length. She groaned, and he caught it in his mouth as his lips softened and took control, the tip of his tongue sliding across her bottom lip, that slippery glide shooting a feeling of raw want straight through her.
From the outside, kisses had always appeared chaste to her. But Sebastian’s kiss was showing her a whole new side of what a kiss could be.
She’d never known a kiss was a carnal act.
Again, she squirmed against him. This time, they both groaned in pleasure—and frustration.
It was achingly clear there was a problem.
Too many layers of clothes stood between them.
Of course, one layer would be one too many.
Through brute strength of will, she tore her mouth from his. “Sebastian, this won’t do.”
His brow crinkled with bemusement. But it was action rather than words that would get her what she wanted.
She bolted upright, still straddling him. He shifted forward, propped on his elbows, eyes intent, very clearly wondering what her next move would be.
Well, she wouldn’t hold him—or herself—in suspense longer than absolutely necessary. She grabbed her shirt and the chemise beneath, untucked the articles of clothing from her waistband with a few efficient movements, and flung them over her head and away.
Beneath her, he froze, taking in her brazenness and nudity. Her nipples tightened against the breeze lifting off the water and beneath the intensity of his gaze. The look in his eyes told her they were firmly—decidedly—on the path tomore.
He liked what he saw.
His eyes told her that, too.
Well then, wouldn’t he like to see a little more?
On sudden decision, she pushed entirely off him and sprang to her feet.
And silent, he watched.
Oh, the appreciation in his eyes. How she warmed to it.
She felt like she was on stage.
For this audience of one.
The only audience that mattered.
And though it was performance, there was no falsity to it.
She was following her instinct—and something else, too.
Something she’d never considered in the same breath that she’d ever considered this man.
She was following her heart.
*
Sebastian wasn’t thesort of man who romped in haylofts.
Nor rutted against secluded tree trunks.
