Page 53 of The Formation of Us
“Then let me up.”
He sighed and lifted her off him, bringing them both back to a sitting position.
He expected her to move away, but she stood and faced him. “I trust you,” she said softly. “But I’m afraid we’ll get carried away again and I can’t . . . It’s improper for us to . . . I like your kisses too much.”
Her confession warmed him. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her between his knees. “It was my fault that we got carried away. I won’t let it happen again.”
Down went her lashes, and she leaned her forehead against his chest. “Duke?” He liked the sleepy softness of her voice. “I changed my mind about the sword swallower being the best show.”
He’d forgotten the circus.
“The clowns were the best.”
He stroked her back, pleased that the clowns had made Cora and Adam laugh, but even more pleased that they’d made Faith forget her troubles for a while.
“Thank you for taking us to the circus today,” she said.
“I should be thanking you,” he replied sincerely. “This is the best day I’ve had in . . . I don’t know how long.”
She lifted her head. “Truly?”
“Truly,” he said, liking the way her gaze roved across his face and lowered to his mouth. Their eyes met, and his heart pounded while he waited for her to decide on their next step. Would she kiss him or torture him by starting his shoulder treatment?
Her lips parted and she lifted her mouth to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, lingering, and it drove him wild and made him want to take it slower and deeper until they were naked and making love. But he clenched his fists and ordered his body to settle down, letting her decide where the kiss would lead, knowing it wouldn’t lead far enough, but craving every second of what she was giving him.
o0o
Faith thought her heart would explode from the pressure building inside it. She had never initiated a kiss before, but oh! She liked kissing this man.
Three men at the brothel had stolen kisses, once when she was thirteen, twice when she was eighteen; and Jarvis had romanced her into accepting his kisses, then misled and pressured her into forfeiting her virginity. Never had she felt free to pursue a man at her own exploratory pace. She liked being able to take her time now, to feel the texture of Duke’s lips with the tip of her tongue, to hold her mouth an inch from his and feel his warm breath caress her lips.
His hard chest muscles bunched beneath her palms, both exciting and scaring her. He could easily take what he wanted, and his shaky breathing and dark, intense eyes said he wanted more than her kiss. But she drank in the masculine beauty of his face, feeling a deep urge to give him more.
He nibbled at her lips, drawing her mouth to his, softly at first, then deeper and slower, sweeping his tongue into her mouth in a seductive rhythm that melted her against his hard body. The birds in her stomach soared to the sky and dove to the sea in a mad, repetitive rush that stole her breath. Her nipples hardened and she longed for the caress of his hands in all the places he was making her ache. But she forced herself to break the kiss. Widow or not, he would expect her to retain some shred of respectability, which shemustdo at all cost.
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, his arms encircling but not imprisoning her. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“For the kiss?” she asked, as shaken and breathless as he appeared.
“For stopping before you drove me insane.” He opened his eyes and winked at her.
Nothing could have pleased her more than that teasing wink. To know he could enjoy kissing her like this, and could stop without growing petulant or angry as Jarvis had, told her everything she needed to know about Duke Grayson. He was a man worthy of a better woman than a prostitute’s daughter, but Faith was going to claim him for herself. And she would do whatever it took to make sure he never regretted it.
Chapter 16
Faith was in the house folding clothes with Iris when someone knocked on the door.
“If that’s Adam or Cora clowning with us, I’ll hang them on the clothesline,” Iris said, heading to the door.
Faith smiled and shook her head. If it was one of the children, Iris would wrangle a kiss or a hug from them before sending them back to play. For all her starch, Iris was a softie.
When she opened the door, a man nearly as tall and wide-shouldered as Duke stood on the doorstep, looking like an overgrown farm boy in denim jeans and a blue cambric shirt. He wasn’t catch-your-breath handsome like Duke or his brothers, but his boyish good looks brought a spark to Iris’s eyes that put Faith on guard.
“Well, well, well.” Iris smiled and leaned against the door frame. “Are you lost, farm boy?”
His gaze swept down her body and back to her face in a slow, seductive appraisal that said he’d rather be inspecting Iris with his big hands. Faith and Iris were used to being ogled, and at the brothel they knew exactly why the oglers came knocking. But this handsome, overgrown farm boy wasn’t looking to buy anything; he was here to sell. To Iris.
He braced his muscled forearm against the door frame and gave her a wolfish smile. “I’ve been waiting all my life to knock on a door and find you on the other side.” he said.
