Page 88 of To Catch A Rogue

Page List

Font Size:

The stroke of his tongue felt like the lightest of lashes. Lark's spine arched, her fingers curling into his hair.

It wasn't enough.

She wanted more. And as if he sensed it, that questing hand slid lower.

Charlie's fingers brushed against her thigh as he suckled and licked. They were so light, so teasing, barely a touch.

"Yes?" he whispered.

Lark wanted to writhe in tortured longing. Every inch of skin felt too tight to contain her. The hunger was rising, demanding she quench its thirst, but this was the first time its focus had been on flesh, not blood.

"Yes," she said, capturing his hand and pressing it firmly against her thigh. She could feel the calluses on his palms and the large flex of his fingers, and suddenly she wanted them all over her.

Together they slid her nightgown higher. A new tension radiated through him where his abdomen was pressed against her spine. She almost thought he might be suffering as much as she was.

She hoped.

Then her thighs were parting, his touch sliding up, and up. It was as if he waited for her to direct him, and she pushed his hand exactly where it ached the fiercest.

The first brush of fingers between her thighs made her shiver.

"You're so wet," he breathed, exploring her with long, slow strokes, his fingertips finding her clit and brushing featherlight against it.

Lark writhed against him, her hips pushing back into the steel of his erection. Somehow it nudged between her bottom, and she had the odd sensation of feeling him brush against her illicitly.

"Mmmm." His finger stroked through the slickness of her slit. He found that little hood of sensation again, and Lark jerked as pleasure shot through her. "Right there?"

She pressed his hand firmly against her, hips arching, silently begging for more.

He slipped a finger inside her, eased by her wetness. It was a strange sensation that made her still. And as he thrust it slowly within her, she felt another joining it, stretching her a little. Not uncomfortable, but noticeable.

Charlie drew his hand up, his gaze smoky and dark as he slowly suckled his glistening fingers into his mouth. It was as if the taste of her body's musk pushed him over the edge, for the blackness of his pupils expanded, obliterating the blue of his irises. She was staring into the face of Charlie's darkness, the demon within him.

And she didn't care.

Their mouths clashed together, her thighs falling shamelessly apart as his touch returned. There was no finesse to the kiss. Not this time. Only hunger. Only the lash of his tongue against hers as he tormented her with his touch.

"Oh, God,please." She broke from his mouth, clutching the back of his neck. "Charlie!"

Throwing her head back, Lark dug her nails into his arm. A cry of choked-off bliss escaped her, and then she was thrashing, pleasure obliterating any sense of self-control as Charlie mercilessly stroked her until she was undone.

Lark collapsed, her entire body quivering with aftershock.

It took her long, ragged moments to realize she was curled in his arms, gasping against his chest. Somehow she'd turned. And his hands had let up their exquisite torture. He skimmed his palm down the flex of her spine as Lark finally looked up.

If his hand wasn't shaking too, she might have been quite put out at how easily he'd devastated her.

She'd never be able to look at him the same way.

"Good morning. Or afternoon as it may be." His sleepy smile stirred through her as if she was made of molten honey. "That was fun."

Hauling her on top of him, he lay back, one hand cupped beneath his head. The pose displayed the bulging curve of his biceps straining beneath his nightshirt, and the fine golden hairs on his tanned arms.

He'd been handsome as a boy, charming enough to make even the sternest widow smile at him.

But he was utterly devastating now, with the chipped edge of his front tooth giving him a rakish look, and his body filled out to epic proportions. Lark didn't know how she was going to survive all this temptation with her wits intact.

The worst thing was, he knew exactly how he looked. She could see it in the twinkle in his eyes as he preened beneath her gaze.