Polly’s gasp of shock and outrage was muffled by Revelstoke’s lips. His kiss swept over her like an inferno, sucking the air from her lungs, sealing her lips to his, making it impossible to pull away. His heat and smoky male flavor invaded her. In some distant part of her mind, she knew she ought to be struggling, protesting… but her will gave way to a mightier force.
Curiosity and craving rolled into one.
Yearning surged from the deepest recesses of her being, battering her defenses from the inside. Lord Brockhurst’s kiss, the only other she’d known, had beennothinglike this. As Revelstoke’s lips roved masterfully over hers, any comparison vanished in a sultry haze. With a sigh, she surrendered to instinct, her lips parting, seeking the life-giving force the way a flower turns to the sun.
The moment she softened, the kiss changed. The charge of anger morphed into something even more potent. His tongue pushed inside, and she jolted at the shocking foray. His palms caged her jaw, held her steady as he continued the silken plundering. The hot, slick plunges caused a melting at her core, and her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as she held on, not knowing what else to do.
When he licked her tongue, she whimpered. He did it again and again, enticing an instinctive reply. Her tongue shyly met his, and he growled, the kiss deepening. He left no part of her cove unexplored, igniting sensations that linked her entire body. She felt his kiss on her lips, in the stiff, throbbing peaks of her breasts, in the damp fluttering between her thighs.
She moaned, needing more.
In the next instant, she was soaring through air, her bottom planting against the hard surface of the table. She clutched at the tough sinew of his shoulders as he invaded the space between her thighs, spreading them. Her head tipped back to receive the deep thrusts of his tongue. She felt his hand sliding up her ribcage and then—heavens—cupping her breast. Shock burned into pleasure as he found the hardened peak through her nightclothes.
He rubbed and circled the stiff bud, and her core trembled. Her entire being became his fingers caressing her breast, his lips hot and hungry upon hers. He pinched her nipple as he licked inside her mouth, and she responded with blind need, sucking eagerly on his invading organ.
A raspy sound came from his chest, and his hand left her breast, clamping on her bottom. He yanked her closer, and her legs parted naturally to accommodate him, her knees pressing against his lean hips. Her breath hitched as her softness met his hard edges—and one hard edge in particular.
Heavens again. Despite the layers between them, there was no mistaking the jutting ridge of his arousal. The image shot forth from her memory: of that erect pole of flesh, so long and thick, his pumping fist barely containing its veined girth. Wetness trickled between her legs, and she squirmed, moaning when that small friction set off exquisite sensations. His hands molded to her bottom, urging her movements, creating an alignment of soft and hard that stole her mind.
Her fingers dug into his granite-hard shoulders as their kiss raged on, as her hips moved in desperate counterpart to his heavy thrusts.Yes, dear God, yes…Desperation climbed and climbed and then his hardness dragged against some magical peak, and she flew over the edge. She cried out as bliss buffered her fall, a cloud of pleasure catching her.
Boneless and witless, she floated… until his hoarse oath pierced her dazed state. She tipped her head back to look at him, blinking at what she saw. Her haze vaporized in the scorching midnight blue of his eyes, in the storm of energy around him. Her entire being stiffened as she was confronted by his emotions.
Lust tangled with anger… and disgust.
He wasdisgustedby her?
Reality slapped her back to her senses.Dear God, I’ve acted like the veriest trollop!Appalled, she shoved at his chest, and he moved out of her way. She jumped off the table, stumbling in her haste and pitching forward.
He caught her. “Easy, there—”
“Let mego.” Beyond humiliated, she slapped away his attempt to steady her.
He took a step back, hands raised. “I was just trying to help.”
“You’ve done quite enough,” she said, her face flaming.
“I must apologize,” he said grimly. “It was a mistake. I should never have—”
“Think nothing of it.” She forced the words past the tight ring of her throat. “As I most certainly intend to.”
His eyebrows drew together. “You’re just going to… forget this?”
Anger butted against mortification.The arrogant bastard.Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d succumbed so easily to his seductive prowess? Did he believe that he was so unforgettable that she, a paltry wallflower, would never get over being granted the God of Revelry’s inimitable favors?
“It was hardly a memorable event.” She was proud of her composure. “It was not my first encounter of this nature,”—he didn’t have to know that the other one had comprised of one chaste peck from Lord Brockhurst—“and I daresay it won’t be my last.”
His jaw hardened. “Pardon. I had no idea what a little hussy you are.”
“There goes the pot calling the kettle black,” she shot back.
He sketched her a livid bow. “I believe I shall bid you good night then.”
“Good night.” Her tone wished him otherwise.
His mouth opened… and shut. Tight-lipped, he gave her a wordless glare before stalking out of the kitchen.
She waited until the door shut behind him, his steps fading into the courtyard. Only then did she sag, shivering, against the kitchen table. Why had she acted like such a wanton? The disgust in his eyes when his lust had faded to the awareness of who he’d been kissing—and another thought struck, piercing her to the quick.
