“I’m not exactly the vision of a romantic hero.”
Her smile widened.“Surely you jest.”
He didn’t and his expression must have given him away because as she leaned closer, her breath whispered across his cheek.“I suppose your scar makes you appear a bit more dangerous.Besides the fact that you’re a London sensation, you do realize, you swept into my life, slayed my dragon, and whisked me off to a place where both myself and my mother are now safe and protected.What woman doesn’t daydream about that?”She leaned in to kiss his mouth.“I think you’re precisely a woman’s vision of a romantic hero.”
As she leaned away, his fingers still at her ankle, her lifted brows dared him to disagree.
Hell if he would.He’d set about to keep this woman, and if she wished to think him the stuff of fantasies, he’d not dissuade her.In fact, he’d bring her the sort of pleasure that might continue to blind.And with that thought, he removed her first stocking and started on her second.
While he’d intended to strip her bare, he might have to settle for lifting her skirts and giving her pleasure first.
Wasn’t that what a hero did?
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Priscilla attemptedto think as his hands slid up her thighs, her skirts slowly yielding to the gentle push to reveal more and more of her legs.
They were now bare and her skin appeared pale against the darker hue of his hands.
Somehow the contrast was mesmerizing and she couldn’t look away as her skirts scrunched higher and higher.And then he murmured, “Lay back.”
Instantly, she did as he commanded, eager beyond measure for whatever came next.And he didn’t disappoint.
Her skirts settled about her waist, his hands molding first her hips and then sliding inward to brush over her apex.
She jolted against his touch, a gasp of pleasure falling from her lips.
She expected him to use his hand again.The touch had been beyond lovely but as his fingers brushed through her curls, they’d didn’t settle on her nub of pleasure but rather, spread her wider.
Priscilla started to lift her head.To ask what he was doing?To see?
But it dropped back down on the soft mattress with a decided thud when not his finger, but his tongue slid through her intimate flesh.A shiver of pleasure moved through her with such force, she cried out for more.
And he obliged.
His tongue worked her most sensitive nub, his fingers stroking her until a frenzy built inside her even deeper and stronger than the last time he had touched her.
She slid her fingers into his hair, urging him closer as a need built inside her, muting everything else out.
He answered by increasing the pressure and tempo, making her cry out again.And just when she thought she might not be able to stand another moment, her pleasure crested, breaking like a wave over her.
Spasm after spasm washed through her until she lay limp on the bed, a deep sigh escaping her lips.
If she had become near boneless in her satiated pleasure, Wyatt was anything but.He reared up, stripping off several items of clothing as he exposed more and more of his skin.
In answer, she managed to lift her fingers to her now-tangled hair, pulling out pin after pin to allow the curls to tumble out on the bed behind her.
Wyatt watched her, a growl rumbling from his lips as he leaned his lithe body over hers to run a hand through the tresses.“That hair.”
She wrinkled her nose.“Brown.”
He chuckled.“You’re not trying hard enough.It’s laced with gold and silk, winking and shimmering in the light.”He drew in an unsteady breath.“I dream of seeing it splayed across my chest while you sleep.”
Her own breath caught, her body tightening once again.Those words, they were as exciting as the sight of his chest, the feel of his hands.“You dream of my hair?”
He gave her a molten stare as he ran his fingers through the tresses.“And those lips.Your curves…”
He stopped speaking, lowering his mouth to hers in a kiss that robbed her of thought and reason.
