“Yes,” she whispered again.
He spun her to face him, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss spoke of need and lust, and she wanted it and more.
Dorrie kissed him back. Her body felt alive, her limbs flooded with heat. She felt wonderful. If this was the only time she could be with the man she loved, she would take it and there would be no regrets. But there would be pain. She knew her heart would ache for a long time after he left her.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
His body was actually shaking at the thought of making this woman his, being the first to sink deep inside her. It was wrong, so wrong. Her family would likely kill him, but in that moment Ash didn’t care. Dorset Sinclair was all that was good and sweet, and he wanted her, wanted that.
He was sullied, his soul black; she was the opposite. An angel to his devil.
His head was swimming with the scent and feel of her. Soft, warm curves, her hair damp from the bath. God, she made him ache.
“Dorrie,” he whispered against her lips.
She answered by reaching for his buttons. The woman was no shrinking wallflower, that much was true. But then in her family, that was expected.
Her hands worked his buttons through the holes, and then her fingers were on his chest stroking his skin through the opening. Never had a woman touched him with such reverence.
“I like your chest.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he grabbed the hem of her chemise and eased it up her body. The thought of seeing her naked made his head feel light.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was a savage, a man who would kill if needed. Ash had believed the softness had been beaten out of him, yet he wanted to worship Dorset Sinclair.
He eased the material up and off her body, and then balled his hand into a fist as he looked at her.
Her skin was silky smooth. Wide shoulders, high, round breasts. Lovely breasts. God, he wanted to taste them and the hard ruby nipples.
“You have a beautiful body” was all he could manage as his eyes devoured every inch of her, skimming over the curve of her belly and curls below. Her legs were long. The scar on a thigh had him running a finger over it.
“Dev told me and Somer not to run along the rocks. I did and fell.”
“I should imagine there are many things you and your sister have done you shouldn’t.” His voice was almost a growl.
“Yes.”
He took off his shirt and boots. His breeches would wait. Ash then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, needing to feel her skin against his. All the warnings in his head fled as her breasts touched his chest. His body pulsed with desire.
“I want this,” she whispered. “I will never regret it, Ash.”
“Even when you lie in your marriage bed with another, knowing he was not the first to take you?” He said it because she needed to hear it. Would he walk away if she changed her mind?Yes. He respected her too much not to.
“Even then.” She kissed the side of his neck.
“It will not be me, Dorrie.” Why was he pushing her away when all he wanted was to lay her on that bed and lose himself in her?
She raised her head. Her eyes were darker now, the heat in them for him. She smiled but said nothing more. Simply began to kiss her way to his chest. He could do nothing to bite back the moan as she pressed hot, openmouthed kisses to his skin.
Her mouth reached his nipple, and a small pink tongue flicked over it. He shuddered.
“I thought you were an innocent.”
“I am. But I am both well read and educated by my sisters.” The smile she sent him was a siren’s call.
Innocent she may be, but Ash could never remember a time when he’d wanted a woman more. He sifted his fingers through her damp curls. The other hand he moved to cup a breast. That stopped her. She straightened.
“Fair’s fair,” he growled. He rubbed a thumb over her nipple, and this time it was she who shuddered.
