“Are you out of your mind, woman?” Cutter’s vision faded momentarily with the loss of light, then returned more sharply as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Elizabeth merely stared, wide-eyed and tongue-tied.
Holy hell, Cutter thought, sobering abruptly. How had he ever thought her scrawny? Not even his discovery earlier in the day—when he’d fallen atop her—had prepared him for the reality of the woman before him.
Even in the dim light, he could see that her thin, wash-worn chemise clung enticingly to her bosom, hugging her flesh where it touched her. And her drawers, though a far larger size than she required, were too sheer to conceal much. His gaze fixed upon the shadowy triangle at the apex of her thighs, and he found himself bewitched by it. The hunger that had eluded his body with the whore now returned, slamming into him full force, and he was just tight enough not to fight it.
With a groan, he closed his eyes, knowing instinctively where it would lead them if he didn’t avert his gaze. Leaning against the door, he pulled Elizabeth back with him.
His head fell back, hitting the door with a thump.
“M-maybe,” she stammered, “y-you should go now?”
There was a moment of strained silence before Cutter’s head came up again, his gaze piercing her through the shadows. Noticing that her specs were missing, he wondered again why she wore them if she didn’t need them. “Maybe,” he answered softly, enigmatically, his hand stirring at her back. “But I don’t reckon I will.”
“B-But-”
“Shhh,” he said, his jaw turning taut. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he fought for control... and lost. He brushed a wisp of hair from her face, his eyes slitting languorously. “Do you know how much I’ve thought about you... like this?”
Elizabeth shook her head in tiny jerks.
As his hand moved up her spine, she began to tremble—not in fear, but because her body was suddenly too tense, achingly aware of the man she was pressed to so intimately.
“No?” he whispered gruffly, answering for her. “Then why don’t you let me show you, bright eyes.” His hand moved up behind her neck, holding her steady as he tilted her head and slowly moved in for the kill.
Their lips brushed lightly at first, sending glorious waves of shock through Elizabeth’s entire being. The scents of tobacco and whiskey assailed her and she inhaled deeply, breathing in those scents along with another more elusive... and titillating. In response, her insides convulsed faintly. It was as though she were famished, somehow, for what he would give her, all of her senses rejoicing in chorus... awakening finally, after an endless slumber.
Then their lips met and she was lost irretrievably to the moment. Merciful Lord, she had never known it could be so divine to kiss a man’s mouth. She had at times spied lovers in just such an embrace, but only now, this moment, understood the urgency, the yearning, that drove them.
Her body had a will of its own, Elizabeth thought wildly, and then she couldn’t think at all as Cutter suckled her lips. The shock of it was physical, sending convulsions throughout her entire body.
Cutter lost himself in the sweetness of the kiss. In his half-sotted state he couldn’t bring himself to give a fig what the consequences might be later.
He could only feel.
Though he’d known Elizabeth only twenty-four hours, it seemed he’d waited a lifetime for precisely this moment.
Too long.
And she wasn’t resisting him.
Sucking a rush of cool, sweet air through his clenched teeth, he slid a hand down to the hollow of her back, crushing her closer, wanting her to feel his arousal, embedding himself deeply into the nest of soft curls he struggled so fiercely not to visualize in his mind’s eyes.
She stiffened slightly and with a belated gasp, she jerked her head backward, but Cutter’s hand held the back of her neck, bracing her for more of his tender assault. She whimpered in protest, but the soft sound only made his foray into her mouth all the more frenzied.
His tongue swept deeper, seeking out hers, brushing at it softly, coaxing a response from her... again... tasting, entwining with hers erotically.
Her knees buckled and she sagged against him as her will to fight fled and she responded by meeting his tongue with her own, sparring with it timidly, almost clumsily.
Cutter nearly exploded on the spot.
He swept his arms around her waist, crushing her against him as he savored the sweetness of her lips. She might not like the fact that he had Indian blood in his veins, but her body sure didn’t know the difference.
God, it would be so easy to take her the distance... lift her against him... carry her to bed.
So easy.
Her reactions were awkward, but he’d been with enough women to know the signs of her body’s awakening.
