“Let me make you feel good.” He spoke against her skin.
He loved the sounds of her moans. They reminded him of a night long ago. Chance lifted the hem of her skirt until the material puffed around her waist atop the table.
Unable to contain himself, he knelt before her, and then pressed his open mouth onto the skin just above her knees, inside her thighs.
She trembled but clutched at his shoulders. “Let me…” He breathed as he traveled his lips toward her center. “Forever.”
“Yes,” she was gasping. She’d gone most of her life without knowing pleasure.
Chance pushed her knees wide at the same time as he slid her to the edge. By now she was arching her spine, her head thrown back, and she clutched the table tightly.
When he dipped his head once again, he discovered heaven. Flesh the color of roses, swollen with need. He pressed a kiss there first, and she pulsed beneath his lips. Her entire body pulsed, throbbed, demanded.
And Chance could not deny her.
Instead he relished that her soft thighs embraced his face. He kept one hand on her buttocks and the other low on her abdomen.
Her wetness surrounded him, both the salt of perspiration on her legs and the sweet taste of her desire. He’d drown in her. Chance swept his lips along the seam of her entrance before dipping it inside. He wanted her writhing at his touch. He wanted her mad for him. He lowered his hand and used his thumb to excite her more. It felt like a dream, savoring her, being so completely enfolded by her. He alternated between reaching inside with his fingers and then loving her with his mouth.
Her muscles spasmed at the same time her legs tightened around his neck. She bucked, she gasped, and after a few tremors ripped through her, she collapsed, exhausted.
Sated.
When she lifted one foot to the edge of the table, revealing creamy thigh, ankle and calf, the pastel sage cotton of her gown ruffled at her abdomen. Chance wondered that he’d never known a woman with more sex appeal than hisPrincesse.
And she didn’t even know it.
She raised one arm to cover her forehead, her eyes. Her throat moved, as she swallowed hard.
He would not allow her to retreat into her doubts again. In one quick moment, Chance lifted himself onto the table.
She moved her arm and her eyes flew open wide. “Will it hold us both?”
Chance slid so that he lay beside her. “I hadn’t foreseen this particular use, but yes. I’ve become quite the craftsman this spring.” He rested one elbow on the table, holding his head so that he could stare at her.
She’d turned and held his gaze, and then surprised him by raising her hand to touch his lips. She drew her fingertip along the moisture remaining from his feast.
“I haven’t.” She closed her eyes. “Not even close. With Richard. We haven’t.”
Chance hated that she struggled with her decision. “This doesn’t come along often. This… what you and I have.”
She nodded.
“You love him. You are not in love with him though. You cannot be. You could not give yourself to me if you were.”
Again, she nodded but then squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting him. He is a good man. He has been very good to me. When you were not here… “
“You will hurt him more if you marry him while wanting another man.”
Again, he watched her swallow hard.
“Did you come out here to tell me your decision?” His heart raced as he uttered the question for the second time.
“I need to speak with him.” Why the hell did she have to be so non-committal?
“Damnit!” his fist landed on the table shattering the quiet around them.
“I’m sorry. I cannot simply change my entire life in the matter of a few months without considering everything that’s happened.” She pushed herself up to sit and a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.
