Page 24 of The Gentleman Was Right
Nothing more than a brief touch of his lips to hers had inspired an avalanche of desire.
Desire that she had later discovered to be one-sided.
Desire that had made her foolish.
Desire that she had assumed she’d never feel again.
Edward was not the same as Basil. He was not trying to woo her, at least not in the traditional sense, and yet she wanted to kiss him.
Her eyes dropped to his lips.
It would be ridiculous of her to kiss him.
Giving him false expectations was wrong. And giving herself false hope was foolish. Kissing him would be dangerous to her state of mind, and yet she moved closer, stepping into his space and inhaling his musty scent.
“Violet,” he whispered. It sounded like a question.
His breath feathered over her lips, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning closer. Close enough that she could feel his heat. Close enough for her bodice to brush his warm, firm chest. Close enough that she could kiss him.
If he allowed it.
Ifsheallowed it.
“Edward.” Her voice was even softer than his had been.
He remained so still it was hard to tell if he was breathing. Slowly, giving him ample chance to step away, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips softly against his.
He responded immediately.
Scorching heat ricocheted up her spine.
Desire—which she no longer trusted, but definitely experienced—flooded her senses. His lips were gentle, nipping softly, coaxing her to open her mouth so his tongue could slip inside. It was like nothing she’d felt before, and her fingers dug into his shoulders as she clung to him and kissed him back with a ferociousness that was difficult to control.
Violet relished the feeling of his hardness when he pressed his body into hers. He kissed with single-minded focus, as if he couldn’t get enough. She kissed him harder, with more enthusiasm, and allowed herself to focus on nothing except the way he electrified her senses.
He seemed to like her sudden aggression, because he widened his stance and pressed his palm against her lower back, holding her so his legs sheltered hers and their bodies pressed even closer. Their hearts thudded in perfect harmony as his free hand slipped up to cup her neck, his fingers decisive and firm. The pressure he exerted was almost enough to keep her immobile, and she relished being at his mercy so much that she didn’t fight for control, just kept her mouth fused to his while their tongues tangled and dueled.
He overloaded her senses in the best possible way.
A way that she craved. That she’d missed.
A whimper escaped.
He tried to gentle the kiss, but she didn’t want gentleness from him. She wanted the kiss to remain unhinged and uncontrolled, so that she didn’t have the opportunity to think.
Biting his bottom lip, she tried to keep him from backing away.
She didn’t succeed.
Shamelessly, she chased after his mouth, trying to recapture his lips, but it was no use. He pulled away, his chest heaving, his face open, his desire still evident.
He looked absolutely wrecked by their kiss, as if he were stunned. It was almost inconceivable that he could be as affected as she was, but his appearance indicated that he, too, had been swept away by lust. And surprised by the passion between them. Shewantedto trust that the most intense kiss of her life had been sincere and that he’d felt the same incredible rush of arousal that she had.
Dragging her gaze from his eyes to his mouth, she wondered what he’d do if she kissed him again.
Oh no.
She was doing it again. Building castles in her mind. Allowing her physical response to a handsome man to convince her that he wantedher.
