Page 34 of The Heir's Fortune
The delicate brush of her tongue intertwined with his, igniting a fire within him. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves to one another.
Gideon's hands tangled in her ebony locks before tracing a path down her neck, caressing every inch of exposed skin. His fingers danced along the contours of her spine, leaving a trail of tingling sensations that made her shudder beneath his touch.
Madeline's body molded into his, her curves fitting perfectly against his lean frame. The scent of her hair, a heady mix of jasmine and vanilla, invaded his senses, and he wondered how he had missed noticing this woman for so long.
He had thought her trouble, but she was proving to be trouble of the best kind. A distraction from his responsibilities, yes, but had a distraction been exactly what he needed?
She moaned, tilting her head backward to accept more of his kiss, and he circled his hands around her ribcage so that his thumbs were splayed beneath her breasts.
“Gideon,” she whispered into his mouth, her breathing ragged, and he boosted her up onto the countertop behind her, knocking the cranberry sauce off the table and to the floor.
“We should stop,” he murmured.
“Likely,” she agreed, although neither of them made any move to do so. Instead, he slid his hands upward, cupping her breasts from beneath, and she answered by arching her chest toward him.
He had thought he barely knew her, but the truth was, now that he allowed himself to beawareof her, he discovered that he knew her far better than he ever would have guessed.
She was humorous and saw the dark and light of everything she encountered – including him. No one else had ever seen both sides of him before and not only put up with them but appreciated them.
And he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life – including Castleton.
Which was terrifying. For everything he had ever done was for Castleton, or the Sutcliffe name, or the Sheffield title.
He wanted her, yes, but he wanted her to see him and look at him with that same enraptured expression she did when her face was nose down in one of her gothic novels.
He wanted to protect her and make sure she was never taken away or come to any harm ever again.
He deepened the kiss as she ran her hands over the stubble on his cheeks, pulling her face back and away for just a moment.
“Gideon?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“We are on the table.”
“We are.”
“The table where thefoodis prepared.”
“It’s not very good food,” he countered, and she giggled before slapping a hand over her mouth, causing him to chuckle himself. For Madeline didn’t giggle. She laughed low, deep, throaty laughs, but never giggled.
Perhaps he affected her after all.
“You laughed!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
“Why is that so shocking?” he asked, frowning at her, and she reached out and eased the furrow between his brow.
“You’re always so serious.”
“I have much on my mind,” he said with a shrug. “But I do laugh when I find something humorous. And I find you most decidedly humorous.”
He leaned in and showed her how much he appreciated her with his kiss, sealing his lips over hers and slipping his tongue into her mouth until she made that desperate moan that had him straining for her even more.
Then she was the one who was sliding the ties of his wrapper apart and pushing the sleeves down over his shoulders, her hand searching between the opening for the bare skin of his chest.
He had to breathe deeply to keep himself from falling over the edge too soon because touches from Madeline were doing more for him than he would ever have thought possible.
Gideon was nestled in between her legs, and he stepped back just enough to begin to slide his hand up her bare leg, finding that he enjoyed how her breath caught when he inched ever higher up her thigh.
