Page 64 of Just Imagine
No! “Yes. Yes, of course I do.”
“Then I will.” His voice grew husky and seductive. “But first we have something to settle between us.”
She shook her head, but she didn’t try to back away. Instead, she heard herself say inanely, “This isn’t proper.”
“Most improper.” His smile held a gentle note of mockery. “And neither of us cares.”
“I care,” she said breathlessly.
“Then why don’t you climb up on Temptation right now and ride away?”
“I will.” But she didn’t move. She simply stood there and gazed at the muscles of his bare chest burnished by the late-afternoon light.
Their eyes locked, and he drew nearer. Even before he touched her, she felt the heat of his skin.
“We both know this has been between us ever since the day you came here. It’s time we put an end to it so we can get on with the rest of our lives.”
Temptation whickered.
He brushed her cheek with his finger and spoke softly. “I’m going to have you now, Kit Weston.”
His head dipped so slowly that he might have been moving in a dream. His lips touched her eyelids and closed each one with a soft, quieting kiss. She felt his breath on her cheek, and then his open mouth, like a warm cave, settled over hers.
The tip of his tongue gently played with her lips. It slid along them and tried to coax away the uncertainty that held them shut. Her breasts had been so cold. Now they crushed against the hard warmth of his bare chest. With a moan, she opened her mouth and let him in.
He explored every part of the velvet interior that she made so freely accessible. His tongue touched hers. Gradually, he coaxed her into his mouth until she finally took what he offered her.
Now she become the aggressor. She entwined her arms around his neck. Tasted. Invaded.
He made a muffled sound deep in his throat. She felt his hand slide between their bodies. He pushed aside the open V of her britches and flattened his palm on her stomach.
The intimacy inflamed her. She dug her fingers into his thick, tawny hair. He pushed his hand beneath her shirt and found her breast. As his thumb circled the small, tight bud at the center, she pulled her mouth away with a smothered cry. Would she go to hell for this? What she was letting him do . . . This man wasn’t her husband but her dearest enemy.
She felt herself falling and realized he was taking her to the ground with him. He cushioned their landing, then rolled her onto her back.
The earth was soft and mossy beneath her. He tugged at the button between her breasts, pushed aside the wet fabric, and exposed her breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said huskily. He lifted his gaze to her face. “So perfect. Wild and free.” Locking his eyes with hers, he covered her nipples with his thumbs and began making a series of small circles.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. The frenzied sensations spiraled inside her, growing hotter and wilder.
“Go ahead,” he whispered. “Let yourself feel.”
The sound she made came from a place deep inside her.
His smile was smoky and full of satisfaction. He kissed the hollow of her throat, then the nipples he was torturing so expertly with his fingers.
Fiery pinwheels whirled behind her eyes as he suckled her. Just when she knew she could bear it no longer, his mouth trailed to the patch of flat, smooth stomach exposed by the open V of her britches. He kissed her there, then drew them down over her hips.
Finally she lay beneath him, naked except for her open white shirt.
Every nerve in her body quivered. She was frightened. Ecstatic. Noises played inside her head.
“Open for me, sweet.”
His hands guided her . . . pushing . . . separating . . . Oh, yes . . .
Feathers of air touched her intimately. Her thighs were spread. She was open to his gaze, and the first trickle of apprehension hit her. Eve’s Shame. Now he would do to her this momentous, awful thing that men did to women.
