Page 41 of The Last Chance
“And you must tell me to stop if I’m too much for you.”
Too much for her?
What did he intend to do?
She nodded. “I will.”
That’s when he looked at her, really looked at her. His dark eyes roamed over her figure, a wicked smile curling his lips as he gazed at her breasts. “I may touch you inappropriately. I’m counting on you to be the voice of reason.”
Maybe she should tell him she’d left her common sense at The Burnished Jade, but he robbed her of rational thought when he reached into her hair and slowly pulled out the pins.
He spent moments running his fingers through her golden locks, admiring the softness before draping her loose hair over one shoulder.
“No woman has ever tempted me the way you do.” With his guard gone, he looked tortured. Conflicted. “I’m almost afraid to kiss you.”
He pressed his finger to her lips so she couldn’t reply. Moving slowly, he traced the outline as if her mouth were a marvel of science.
“I pray the beast behaves,” he whispered, capturing her chin.
And then he closed his eyes and kissed her lips, and she thought she might die from the pleasure.
He was kissing her, the woman who lived under his skin, the woman he’d worshipped from afar for so long. He didn’t know how he had fallen into her trap or under her spell, but the moment their mouths met, he didn’t give a damn.
Perhaps he did know.
He would be no one’s disappointment. He would leave her in no doubt of his ability to arouse her or of the dangers she faced. And yet he was hard in his trousers, solid from one chaste kiss.
Don’t lose control, he whispered to himself.
Breathe, damn you.
But lust licked his body, scorching him like the hottest flame. His heart pounded. His lungs ached for air. And yet the dominant feeling as he coaxed her to kiss him open-mouthed was one of pure joy. To kiss her once was a gift. A present he did not deserve. One he should unveil slowly, not tear at the wrapping and devour the contents.
Slow down.
Beneath the heat of her mouth, his problems became unimportant. The past faded away, leaving nothing but the sensation of her lips against his and a peace he had never known.
Peace and pleasure.
Two things he denied himself.
Two things that made a man weak.
It’s just this once, he uttered silently, knowing he had to make every second count. He could not let his emotions overwhelmhim. There was no room for sentiment when easing a physical ache.
But he’d missed the flaw in his plan.
It didn’t matter that he kept his feelings for her chained to a dungeon wall, that there was no room for manoeuvre, that he’d spent months forging the strongest iron shackles and the sturdiest cell door.
Miss Lovelace had the key.
The temptress slipped her tentative tongue into his mouth, her passionate hum trembling against his lips, releasing the locks and setting the beast free.
A guttural growl escaped him.
She wanted this as much as he did. The thought hardened his cock, the throbbing ache unbearable as it strained against the placket of his trousers.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, his tongue mating rampantly with hers, desire tearing through his veins. She smelled of roses, sweet like summer air. An intoxicating scent that aroused him to near madness.
