It was ... perfect.Hewas perfect.
Each stroke of his mouth on hers unleashed a firestorm of new sensation. The brief kisses she'd exchanged with Roger were nothing like this. They didn't make her feel as if she'd just walked into the bread oven. They didn't make her tingle in places she shouldn't think about. They didn't make her heart flutter and her knees weaken. And they certainly didn't make her think of ripping off his shirt and splaying her hands over the bare skin that would be forever etched in her memory.
He was so big and powerful, his muscular body hard and imposing as a wall of granite. The proof of his warrior profession was branded on every steely inch of flesh. But she'd never imagined how good steel could feel pressed up against her. How warm a man's chest could be. How safe and protected she would feel. How she wanted to sink into him and never let go.
And what he was doing with his mouth ...
It felt like a dream. His lips were too soft. His kiss too tender. Surely this wasn't the same man? How could the implacable warrior who looked at her with such indifference kiss her with such feeling?
He even smelled like something from a dream. Like soap with a hint of salt from the loch.
But it wasn't a dream. In her dreams she didn't feel so strange. She didn't know what was happening to her. She felt faint. Drenched with heat. Sensitive and achy. Every nerve ending on edge. It felt as if her body was not her own.
Pleasure had taken hold and would not let go. All she could think about was how good it felt. His talented mouth. The subtle scratch of his jaw against her chin. The weight of his hand on her waist. The gentle caress of his fingers. With each teasing brush of his lips on hers, the sensations only intensified. Building. Making her yearn for something more. Something she didn't understand but desperately wanted.
Arthur was trying to take it slow, but the little sounds she was making were driving him half-crazed. But even more than he wanted to sink into her, he wanted to bring her pleasure. So instead of ravishing her senseless, he coaxed with long, slow strokes of his mouth.
And she responded.
God, she responded. Tentatively at first, and then with his persuading, more boldly.
With an enthusiastic little moan that went straight to his groin, she slid her arms around his neck and opened her mouth.
A growl of pure masculine satisfaction tore through him at the instinctive response.
He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her mouth, to take what she offered, but conscious of her innocence, he slid the tip of his tongue between her lips for one deft flick before quickly retreating. He felt her shock but didn't give her time to think. His tongue swept inside her mouth again, longer this time, letting her get used to the sensation. And then when he felt her relax against him, he showed her what he wanted. Circling his tongue against hers, he slid deeper and deeper into her mouth.
Her eager response nearly broke him. Desire, held long at bay, broke free in one torrential storm. He could feel her nipples harden against his chest, digging into him, egging him on.
He groaned, feeling the demanding tug in his groin, and sank into her.
She kissed him back, molding her sweet little body to his. The instinctive movement of her hips against his cock was almost too much. The sensation too intense. His blood spiked. His heart hammered. The reins of control began to slip through his fingers as desire took over.
His kiss grew wilder. Harder. More insistent. He covered her breast with his hand, her startled gasp smothered by his groan. The spike of pleasure was beyond belief. He'd been dreaming about her breasts for weeks, and now to have them in his hands ...
They were incredible. Big, soft, and full in his palm. Rubbing his thumb over the taut peak of her nipple, he teased and plied until a soft moan escaped from between her lips and her back arched into his hand. Naked. He wanted her naked.
God, she was sweet. So responsive. He couldn't seem to get enough.
He was spiraling down a tunnel of sensation. Quickly moving to a place of no return. He wanted to make her come. He wanted to touch her with his hands, taste her with his mouth, and fill her with his cock. He wanted her weak and wet.
He wanted to make her his.
He liked to think he would have come to his senses--that he would have managed to find the control that had never eluded him before--but he would never know.
The dog did it for him. Probably deciding he'd been neglected for too long, the puppy started to whinge. It was enough to penetrate the haze.
The shock of reality was like a bucket of cold water. All at once, Arthur realized the madness of what he was doing. He broke the kiss, pushing her away more harshly than he intended.
She gasped in surprise.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other in the candlelight, the heaviness of their breathing damning proof of what they'd just done.
Christ. Disbelief mixed with incredulity. What the hell had just happened? He'd never lost control like that, ever.
A kiss, damn it. That was all it was supposed to be. A simple kiss to teach her a lesson. It didn't mean anything. He'd kissed dozens of women. It was nothing that should have affected him, and nothing that should make him feel this ... rattled.
And hewasrattled, more rattled than he wanted to admit. Touching her had been a mistake. What the hell had he been thinking?
