Page 66 of Desire's Ransom
Chapter 18
As Temair gazed into Ryland’s hooded eyes, her smile faded.
He wasn’t afraid she’d actually do him harm, was he?
Nay.
It wasn’t fear veiling his eyes.
Nor danger flaring his nostrils.
Nor apprehension leaving him breathless.
The gaze he lowered to her mouth was full of raw need.
Suddenly aware of the pressure of herbataagainst his groin, Temair couldn’t help but remember what she’d glimpsed last night. Flashing through her mind’s eye was the compelling image of his naked flesh nestled in dark curls. The memory alone triggered a brilliant shock and a lusty tension between her own legs. The intense sensation made her knees weak.
Her breath caught. She lowered her gaze, trying to conceal her sudden powerlessness, fixing her eyes instead on Ryland’s mouth. His delicious, tantalizing, irresistible mouth.
Damning the consequences, she followed her instincts. Leaning closer, she slowly let thebataslide down. She watched as he sucked a breath of anticipation and pleasure between his teeth.
But when the backs of her knuckles chanced to brush his hard and eager swelling, it was all Temair could do not to gasp in wonder.
His eyes were shut tight now. But she still saw longing in the furrow between his brows and in the way the corner of his lip was caught under his teeth.
She let go of thebataand let it fall to the ground. Closing her eyes, she angled her wrist to capture him in her palm. Even through his clothing, she could feel the heat of him, full and firm and demanding.
It took her breath away.
She managed to lift her lust-heavy lids just enough to see his thirsty tongue trace the rim of his bottom lip.
And she was undone.
Bunching the front of his tabard in her free fist, she surged forward with a soft cry and claimed his mouth.
His kiss was even sweeter than she remembered. Hot and searching, his lips drank from hers as if she harbored the most amazing ambrosia. His tongue made soft trespasses to bathe her in liquid passion. And when he groaned against her, her blood shot through her veins with the force of a winter flood.
The longer they kissed, the more she desired to kiss him. Time and place vanished. Reason deserted her. The world melted away until there were only the two of them.
Lost in a haze of seductive pleasure, Temair vaguely wished it would last forever.
Ryland was drowning in a sea of lust, as helpless as a storm-wrecked ship. And yet he had no desire to claw his way back up to the surface.
He’d never been kissed with such fervor. He’d never been so quickly aroused. Nor so completely enchanted.
It came as no surprise then that he was in no hurry for it to end.
But chivalry was at the very core of his being. And guilt was a cruel master to a man of honor. What they were doing wasn’t right. He was promised to another. He must be faithful to his bride.
Besides, he was doing Gray no favors, leading her on in this way when nothing would come of it. Even if shewasas sultry and tempting as a Saracen concubine.
So it was with great regret and a good deal of physical torment that he slowly pulled away from the kiss, taking Gray gently but firmly by the shoulders and setting her at arm’s length.
She blinked as if waking up and raised trembling fingers to her blushing lips.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just…”
She stepped abruptly backwards, obviously embarrassed. “Nay, ’tis my—”
