She rose on her tiptoes and was an inch away from his lips before remembering where she was. The stable master was a few feet away, and the groom could appear at any moment.
“What am I doing?” She lowered her heels and stepped away from him.
He didn’t take his gaze off her. “Now you know how I feel every time I see you.”
She let out a nervous chuckle, her cheeks warming. “It’s powerful.”
“Trust me. I understand.”
“I would really like to kiss you,” she whispered.
He took her hand and gazed around, suddenly quick and agile. “Say no more.” He led her towards the end of the stall.
“Where are we going?”
“Where I can kiss you without being disturbed.” He paused before pushing a door open and released her hand. “You can either go or follow me.” The hope she saidyesrang out of his voice.
She’d made up her mind ten minutes ago. “Let’s go.”
Her heart raced when he showed a wicked smile. He held the door open for her and let her into a storage room filled with sacks of grains and stable tools. The smell of wood and hay thickened the air. Sunlight sneaked in through the gaps between the wooden planks of the walls.
He locked the door behind them, and the click caused a thrill to course through her. She shouldn’t find being compromised so exciting.
“And now?” She pulsed and ached everywhere as he took her waist and lifted her, only to sit her on a worktable.
The effort must have hurt him, judging by how he grimaced for a split second. And that was the last rational thought she had before he pried open her legs and nestled between them with the confidence of someone who belonged there. She had time to draw in a deep breath as he cupped her face and kissed her hard.
Her legs tightened around him on pure instinct, and her back arched of its own accord. The tip of his tongue slid past her lips, and she didn’t hesitate to open her mouth for him.
Anticipation urged her closer to him. She ran her palms over his chest without pressing too hard on his bruises, but his muscles tightened like ropes in reply. He slid a hand under her skirts and stroked her thigh.
In her past, there had been a few handsome boys living close to her house.
But she’d never, ever seen such intense desire for her in a man’s gaze or felt such desire in a touch. Tristan’s blue eyes burnt from the inside out for her only.
Even through her stocking, his warmth and strength reached her core.
He caressed her with devotion. His breathing quickened, but his caresses slowed. Each gentle stroke and brush of his lips against hers made her tremble.
His fingertips went up along her thigh and teased the garter. Then they trailed down, sending shivers through her body. Then up again towards her sensitive inner thigh.
Desire caused her to tense. The wait for him to touch her had a bittersweet taste. He paused and stared at her as if asking for her permission. She was bold enough to widen her legs a few inches.
He let out a groan of pleasure as he resumed his exploration. But he had no intention of being quick. He traced the curve of her thigh, taking his time. Should she beg him or urge him to speed up? The combination of longing and slowness was difficult to handle.
“Please,” she said, not caring about begging.
“Anything you want.” He sounded rough and husky, and she loved it.
A gasp tore out of her when he finally headed where it ached the most. The fabric of her drawers chafed her skin all of a sudden, and the air was too hot. He rubbed a delicate spot on her inner thigh that surely hadn’t existed until a moment ago.
He stared at her as he slipped past the opening of her drawers. Her toes curled. The touch was so delicate and small, but the pleasure was so strong that her head spun.
Every other sensation that wasn’t Tristan’s gentle touch vanished. Each stroke of his thumb sent goose pimples everywhere through her body. She wanted him to feel what she felt. So she slipped her hand between them, even though she wasn’t sure about what to do.
“Guide me,” she whispered. “Teach me.”
“You’re killing me,” he said in all seriousness.
