Page 44 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

Her dark lashes lifted, and he cursed every syllable he’d uttered and every bloody useless thought he’d endured in her presence. He shouldn’t have been sitting here pondering how desperate he’d been for escape or how far he’d travelled to leave behind the words of his father. He should have been kissing her all along.

Because here was a woman not just made for being kissed but made for being kissed byhim.

Looping his fingers through hers, he pulled her close. She stumbled and put a hand to his shoulder, lips parting as she remained stooped over him, gaze dark and wary.

“I like your kisses too much,” he confessed.

“I like yours too.”

The words were soft and a balm to his soul. He didn’t need hot cloths and soothing ointments. Only her words and her mouth.

“I want to do it again.”

She nodded and allowed him to pull her closer. He placed his hands to the gentle curve of her spine and drew her into him until she straddled him. There was no chance she could avoid feeling his arousal and the fierce ache that pulsed through him when she settled on his lap. Lilly placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We should not be doing this.”

He nodded. It was torture for them both. He might not need to outrun his father anymore, but he had plenty of reasons not to make love to a woman. He hadn’t solidified his vows for nothing.

However, nothing seemed more important than kissing Lilly at this very moment. No vow of chastity, no fear of creating a bloodline could prevent him from slipping a hand up her neck and urging her mouth to his.

Chapter Sixteen

It didn’t matter that he smelled like the earth. Or that he was entirely inappropriate for her.

Because, actually, August was entirely appropriate. And the earthy fragrance appealed to her. It reminded her of lazy days lying in the grass or brisk swims in her father’s lake. He made her feel as though the sun beat down upon her body and like she had just plunged into the icy coldness of the water at the same time. Most especially when he confessed to her that he liked her kisses.

It could be an act, of course, yet she didn’t think so. She’d read endlessly about the man but no ink could describe the vulnerability she’d spied in his gaze.

She had this horrible, wonderful feeling here was a man who was her match. Here was a man who would treat her as his equal. He spoke to her as though the world could be hers, as though there might be a chance she could share it with him. He admired her desires for more rather than dismissed them. There were no scoffing sounds or sniffs of dismay or even stony silence. He hadn’t offered her everything or made false promises, merely talked to her as though she deserved to see all that he had.

And now, she could only imagine seeing such things at his side.

His mouth moved over hers, slightly cold. She followed his lead. It amazed her how easy it was to be swept away with his kisses. Her few fumbling explorations had been entirely unsatisfactory and left her wondering if she simply did not have the skill for kisses.

August left her hot and panting and marveling at the sensation the meeting of lips could cause.

His fingers coaxed her as close as possible and she was aware of them, as though they were leaving marks upon her skin at the same time as the whole world blurred into nothing. His tongue was a warm contrast to his lips as he tasted her, and all she could find was gratitude that he was safe and well and in her arms.

Or perhaps she was in his arms. Either way, she couldn’t prevent herself from rocking into the hardness of him and creating sparks of pleasure that both satisfied and kindled.

He stilled and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh no. Did I hurt you?”

A hand to either side of his face, she peered down at him. Swelling marred one cheek and she did her best to avoid it, though the rest of him had fared well considering he had gone up against such a brute of a man. She wished he had come away entirely unharmed but was confident August had extracted enough revenge to appease the anger boiling in her veins at his mistreatment.

“No.” He shook his head. “Yes. But not in that way.” Creases appeared on his brow. “What is it?”

Lilly blinked a few times in a bid to remove the image of August fighting the kidnapper. “I’m so angry the man hurt you,” she confessed.

His lips quirked. “You’re angry?”

“Yes.”

“Would you wish to protect me, Lil?”

“If I could, yes.”

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