Page 55 of Pride: The Rogue
The feel of her sweet surrender threatened to drive him mad with lust. The innocent, trusting way she surrendered to Latimer, however, terrified the everlasting hell out of him.
“Like I said, sweetheart,” he rasped harshly, against her lips, “I’m no gentleman. I don’t kiss like one and I certainly don’t fuck like one.”
To bring home his point, Latimer filled his palms with her lush buttocks.
Instead of the expected revulsion, Livian whimpered and bucked her hips into him—or, she attempted to.
Latimer kept a punishing hold on her, denying her and her hungry body the freedom to writhe as it so desperately needed to.
“Lachlan,” she begged.
He rewarded her pleadings by slacking his hold enough that she could rock her supple hips, but still kept her wanting.
Her needy body squirmed, as she thrust wildly and desperately at the air.
All the while, he slanted his mouth over hers, again and again.
Livian, timid and uncertain, struggled to meet his potent demand, and instead of being turned off, his hungering for this intrepid woman only grew in bounds.
Finding a prurient pleasure in being the first to taste of Livian Lovelace, he gentled his kiss; he took his time, teaching her and alternately, letting her learn from him.
And God, how she did; each small lesson he’d just imparted, she put into practice. This time, as he slanted his mouth over hers, she kissed him in return.
Latimer massaged her buttocks. “Scared yet, darlin’?” he panted.
“Stunned,” she whispered, between each meeting of their lips. “I never knew a kiss could be like this.”
It wasn’t like this. Not ever before.
A mere kiss had never moved him, the way this woman’s did now. He’d let himself deal with that terrifying thought later. Now, not even God himself could make Latimer surrender this moment.
Climbing up on tiptoes, Livian wrapped her arms about his neck, squirming and fighting his hard grip, until she’d managed to press her body against his, and she at last got what she craved.
She rocked her hips wildly and frantically; this time, her desperate gyrations brought her body flush with his aching cock.
So beautifully uninhibited, Latimer found his unflagging—until now—self-control flagging.
A lust-filled groan built deep inside him.
Livian instantly stopped. Her cheeks were bright red from their embrace and a glossy sheen to her skin.
Indecision clouded her desire-filled eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
Strained, pained laughter, rumbled past his lips. “Livian, when it comes to making love, there’s not a thing you could do wrong.”
That held true for her, and her alone.
She brightened like he’d just delivered the prettiest compliment, closed her eyes, and leaned up, and in, asking with her body for him to continue.
He tensed.
And fuck it all, with the slight break in their embrace, reality reared its head.
Letting a stream of black curses silently fly, he edged Livian out of his arms and took a step away.
Her impossibly long lashes fluttered wildly, and when she managed to fully open them and look at Latimer, confusion filled their expressive depths.
Latimer grunted. “If I don’t stop now, darlin’, the only way this ends is with me between your legs, and my cock buried deep inside you.”
