Page 18 of A Touch Wicked
“And an insatiable one?”
He kissed her, his lips soft. Then he slid inside her in a single, slow stroke. “An insatiable woman gives and takes in equal measure,” he whispered, moving in and out of her almost lazily. “It’s not that she’s never satisfied. It’s that she’s always willing to try more.”
Selene wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer. “So you’re saying I’m adventurous.”
“I’m saying you’re a challenge.” His strokes quickened and he laughed with pleasure as he pressed his cheek to her hair. “And I’m a man who loves challenges.”
* * *
They dozedfor a few hours in each others arms, until he heard her leave the bed and pull on her clothes. The candles were all the smallest stubs now, but he could see her clearly as she dressed. James admired the long, smooth lines of her back, the curve of her waist.
He smiled when she lifted the torn dress and wrinkled her nose. Then, as if reluctantly, she put the dress on and buttoned her cloak over the torn fabric. James was struck by his desire to see her again, not to end this so soon. He wanted her back in his arms.
She turned and caught his gaze, as if she knew he was looking. “I’m forced to go now,” she said.
Is there a man you return to?he wondered.Is that why you weren’t able to have your someone?
James wanted to ask her everything. So many questions. But he only said, “I’m told some members pay for these rooms during the week between Masquerades.”
Selene tilted her head. “Do they?”
James would not ease into the topic gently. They were beyond such things. “Will you meet me tomorrow?”
She sighed. “I can’t.”
He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t ask about a husband or her life or whatever kept her away from this bed. He only knew he wanted her in it. “When? If you’re still willing.”
“Three days,” she said. “And I’ll always be willing.”
Chapter 12
One night with James turned into two, and two turned into a dozen more.
They met several nights during the week, until invitations to return became unnecessary. Emma went through her days with Alexandra in a state of distraction, avoiding James until she could meet with him in their room.
God, those nights. How could she have ever thought herself content with only one?
Their lovemaking was fierce and wild. After, they lay curled next to each other, talking and exploring each other’s bodies. There was no part of James that Emma had not kissed or stroked, but it still wasn’t enough. She loved the sounds he made when he came, the way his voice became gruff with sleep, or how when he dozed, he wrapped his arms around her.
Emma grazed her fingertips across his ribs and he jerked, letting out a laugh. “That tickles.”
She loved his laugh, too; he did it so easily with her now.
She grinned at him. “Oh, dear. You shouldn’t have told me that.” She straddled him and tickled until she had him laughing. Then she bent down and rained kisses across his face. “You adorable man. Now I know your weaknesses.”
Without warning, he rolled them until he was on top, smiling down at her. “Don’t tell anyone. The only person who knows I’m ticklish is my sister, and I’m hoping she’s forgotten. She used to torture me as a child.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and settled back beside her. “Do you have siblings?”
Emma’s own smile faded. “No. Sometimes I wish I did, but then . . .” He noticed her hesitation and gave her a questioning look. She lifted a shoulder. “It’s best that I didn’t. My father was not a good man. My mother deserved better, but he was very charming to her.”
James frowned. “Did he hurt you?”
“How protective you sound.” She loved it too much.
“I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you.” His whisper was rough, spoken as he edged in for a kiss. “Not anyone who is mine to protect.” Emma froze.
Anyone who is mine to protect.
What a dangerous thing to say.
