Desire.
Good. He didn’t want to stop kissing her just now, didn’t want to stop tasting her. He trailed kisses along her throat, felt the frantic rhythm of her pulse against his lips.
She whimpered but did not pull away from him.
Emboldened, he leaned farther forward, touched his lips to the corner of her mouth.
He heard her quick intake of breath, felt his stomach tighten, his erection already full and heavy.
She turned her head toward him, her lips pliant, a dreamy sigh caught in her throat.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He cupped her cheek, turned his head from side to side, brushed her lips ever so lightly with his. Then he claimed her mouth in a slow kiss.
It was a tender kiss, but the power of it was nearly his undoing. He felt another tremor pass through her, felt his body answer with a craving so potent it bordered on violence.
Her eyes flew open, their pupils dark with a woman’s longing. Her hands were clenched together in her lap so tightly that her fingers were white. Even so, it did not still her trembling. “W-we shouldna be doin’ this.”
He pulled her hands into his, began to stroke their backs lazily with his thumbs. “Why not?”
She did not answer, but dropped her gaze to the floor, the conflict within her written on her face.
“Do my kisses frighten you, Bethie, love?”
Her answer was a whisper. “A little.”
“Why?”
Bethie fought to clear her muddled mind, sought the right words. “B-because I know what you would do next.”
His thumbs traced maddening circles against the sensitive skin of her wrists. “Tell me. What would I do next?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, saw that his eyes had darkened to the color of midnight. “Y-you know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You would be overcome by...” She looked away again, felt the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks.
“Overcome by what, Bethie?”
She had to fight to speak the next word. “Lust.”
“And that frightens you?”
She looked into his eyes again, fought to recover her resolve. “I am no’ a silly girl, Nicholas, but a woman who has been a wife. I know all there is to know about... aboutthat. There is no pleasure in it for a woman, only pain.”
He looked at her through eyes that held only tenderness. “If you believe that women don’t also enjoy sex, Bethie, then you have much to learn.”
Her face flamed with anger and embarrassment at his words, but something deep inside her belly clenched. “You only say this to persuade me.”
He ran a finger down her cheek, traced the line of her lower lip with his thumb. “Did I hurt you, Bethie?”
She shivered. “N-nay.”
“Did you feel pleasure when I kissed you?”
She hesitated, squeezed her eyes shut, wished she did not have to answer him. What would he think of her if she admitted that she didn’t want him to stop, that she wanted him to keep kissing her?
You’ve the heart of a harlot, Bethie Stewart.
