“Allow me to make amends.” He kissed her again.
She made a delicious sigh of feminine contentment, and twined her arms around his neck. All her ice was turning into fire, and he could not seem to get enough. She was growing bolder. She opened for him without his prompting, her tongue seeking his. It was his turn to groan as a bolt of lust went directly to his prick.
His hands worshiped her curves, following the lines of her waist all the way to her rump, which proved a pleasant handful beneath the fullness of her gown. He cupped her bottom, bringing her nearer until there was nary a space betwixt them. Nothing but yearning, hungry bodies pressed together.
He sucked on her tongue, then nibbled on the succulence of her lower lip. Christ, the woman was like a sweet confection. He wanted to devour her and treasure her. She was making him mad with her tentative touches and her ravenous kisses. She was one part siren, one part angel, and he had never felt anything like the emotion and need buffeting him.
Demon kissed down her throat, savoring the softness of her skin. Kissing, sucking, hoping he would leave his mark there. Somehow, he found his way to her ear, and when he caught the fleshy lobe in his teeth and tugged, she rewarded him with a throaty moan.
“Tell me what you want, Mira,” he murmured, out of his head for her. “Tell me what you need.”
“I…” She gasped as he licked the hollow behind her ear. “I do not know what I want…or what I…need.”
He raked his teeth along her throat, angling his aching cock against her in an effort to ease some of the relentless need. “Do not be shy, love.”
She tensed suddenly in his arms, her fingertips digging into the muscles of his shoulders.
Sensing her turmoil, he raised his head, searching her glittering blue gaze. “Something is wrong.”
“It is not shyness which makes me timorous,” she blurted, her eyes going wide as if she could not believe what she had just said aloud.
He thought of the hesitance in her kisses, the seeming lack of experience. Confusion hit him.
“You have made love in the past, no? You have a son.”
“I do.” She nodded, her face going pale. “Perhaps this is a mistake.”
Hell no.He was not going to allow her to flee now that he finally had her where he wanted her.
Demon released her bottom and swept a reassuring caress up her lower back. “You have been intimate with a man before.”
She nodded. “I have lain with my husband, but I have never…”
“What you are saying,” he began slowly, still grappling with how to make sense of the situation, “is that you have performed the act, but it has never given you pleasure. Is that correct?”
She nodded, looking stricken.
And everything made sense—her request for a lover, her uncertainty.
“Someone ought to throw him off the nearest roof,” he growled, thinking of the sacrilege.
A woman as lush and lovely and passionate as Mira, never knowing the heights of desire—it was infuriating. And wrong.
“He is already gone, so there is no need to toss him from a roof,” she said quietly.
Ah, a widow. He ought to have recognized it, for he had always held a particular fondness for them. Mira, however, had been lacking in all the familiar traits. She had not been experienced or sure of herself. She had not propositioned him. Instead, she had run after her initial burst of daring.
He wondered how much that daring and her admission just now had cost her.
“Forgive me,” he said softly, hoping to avoid spooking her yet again. “It is poorly done to speak ill of the dead.”
“Pray, do not speak of him at all. I should not have explained. What must you think of me?”
“I think you are desirable.” He kissed her swiftly. “And beautiful.” He kissed her again. “And that we will discover together what it is that you like. What it is that you want.”
“You…we…will?” She looked adorably dazed.
“Aye.” He could make an excellent game of this. Oh hell yes, he could. “I will try something, and you shall tell me if you like it. And if you truly like it, tell me if you want more.”
