Sinjin had danced with many women, too many to count. But Polly, as always, transformed the experience for him. Dancing was no longer a matter of stepping to music or making chitchat to pass the time or thinking about other things he’d rather be doing. Holding Polly in his arms, staring into her unparalleled eyes, he felt a rightness that he’d never felt before. The moment consumed him: the need to be close to her, to inhale her unique scent… to make love to her.
She’d always been beautiful, but tonight she mesmerized him.Christ, the way she looked in that dress. Her loveliness made a chaos of his mind. He wanted to have her painted, immortalized. He also wanted to strip her bare, to be horizontal with her, to bury himself in her giving warmth. She laughed breathlessly as he took her into a spin, and he caught other men staring at her, clearly entertaining lustful thoughts—and that made him want to plant a facer on any bastard who dared to look at her twice.
When the dance ended, it required all his willpower to let her go. He wasn’t ready to relinquish their moment of privacy, public as it had been. The need to be with her felt urgent, overwhelming.
As he escorted her to her chaperones, he said in low tones, “Meet me on the balcony, kitten.”
She stared at him, and for an instant he feared she would say no.
“Which one?” she said.
“The one in the corner, with the curtains drawn.” Away from the buffet tables and entertainments, the spot might offer a bit of seclusion. “In ten minutes?” His breath held; he felt as if his life depended on her reply.
Her nod was shy, but her eyes were shining.
Euphoria rushed through him.
~~~
Polly made her excuses to her sister, saying that she was visiting the retiring room. Instead, she made a furtive escape toward the appointed balcony where Sinjin was waiting. She didn’t know if it was the champagne or the dance with Sinjin or the successes of the night, but she felt freer, morealivethan she ever had.
She wanted to be with Sinjin more than she wanted her next breath… andhe felt the same way. She’d seen his desire, felt its wild energy. His pumping need fed her own restless yearning.
She approached their designated meeting place. Luckily, the refreshment tables had just been replenished, attracting a swarm of guests, leaving the present area deserted. She slipped through the velvet panels and out onto the balcony, closing the glass doors behind her. The darkness enveloped her the moment before warm, strong arms did.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The feel of her, warm and pliant, made Sinjin’s head reel. The pale crescent moon reflected in her luminous eyes, and her smile held all the secrets of the universe. The rest of the world disappeared: there was only the two of them, man and woman alone in a midnight garden, the energy pulsing between them as ancient as time itself.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He ran his hands reverently over the shoulders left bare by her gown, savoring her silken skin, how she shivered at his touch. “I’ve missed you, kitten.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she said shyly.
Her sweetness undid him. Palming the back of her head, he took her mouth. Her taste hit him like a shot of fine whiskey, a long, smooth burn in his gut. Craving more, he deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering her sweetness and fire; when she licked him back, his mind went black. He backed her into a corner where the balcony met the house, lifting her onto the wide balustrade, propping her back against the wall.
Raging impulse took over. The need to taste, touch,claimevery part of her.
Wedged between her spread, dangling legs, he consumed her mouth. She kissed him back with inflaming ardor. Soon, kissing wasn’t enough—he had to have more. His lips roved to her right ear, sampling the succulent lobe. She shivered, pressing herself against him, and when he cupped her large, firm tits in his palms, her nipples jutted pleadingly beneath her bodice.
His cock, already rock-hard, jerked in his trousers. He reached for her skirts, tossing them up, wanting nothing between them. When his fingers encountered her slick, hot flesh, he reached a new state of frenzy.
“Christ, you’re dripping for me.” With pounding lust, he diddled her pearl, painting it over and again with her own dew. “You want me, don’t you, love?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “So much.”
The last vestiges of his control vanished; he became impulse. His fingers went to the hidden buttons of his waistband, freeing his heavy erection. Fisting himself, he ran the blunt tip along her plush slit, moans escaping both of them at the rapturous contact. He slid his turgid shaft against her love knot, stoking both their fires, building the burning crisis. When she came, she chanted his name, and it was a Siren’s call he could not deny.
With wanting so intense it was a pain, he notched his cockhead to her entrance.
“I need you, Polly.” The guttural words tore from him.
Her eyes held his; the longing and acceptance in them stole his breath.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
With a groan that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he drove home.
~~~
