Page 35 of The Lyon Whisperer
But she had the distinct impression he meant to escort her to her chamber and say goodnight.
Meanwhile, he’d laughedwithher, and notather, when she’d all but shot brandy out her nose. He’d revealed painful truths about his childhood, his parents, she’d bet her mother’s pearls he’d never broached with anyone.
He’d brought her here, to this chamber, the library, because he thought it would please her. Although, she suspected he could’ve brought her anywhere in the manse and she’d probably be in the same lamentable position of wanting him to kiss her with a ferocity that had her insides trembling.
A full five seconds had passed. Humiliation hollowed out her belly. She’d made a serious mis—
“Yes.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and she bit back a grin.
Had she flummoxed the Iron Lion of Barrosa with her audacious—
His mouth covered hers. He didn’t touch her with any other part of his body, not even his hands, just his warm, searching mouth, slanting over hers.
Pleasure unfurled inside her, hot and swift, like sitting beside a roaring fire after coming in from the freezing rain. The tremors in her belly increased tenfold.
She wanted him to pull her into his arms. She wanted to hold on to him. She…wanted.
His mouth left hers, his lips trailing over her cheek. When his rasping breath curled into her ear a shiver coursed down her spine. His teeth nipped at her earlobe, and she could only bite her own lip in response.
“Do you want me to touch you, Amelia?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.
Eyes closed, she nodded.
One strong arm encircled her waist, lifting and turning her like she weighed nothing, then planted her across his lap. A heartbeat later, his mouth once again covered hers.
One hand cupped her head as he deepened the kiss and pressed her back into the sofa cushions.
Her arms twined around his neck, holding him close.
His thighs were hard bands of muscle, rippling beneath her lower body as he shifted positions to lean over her. An unyielding ridge pressed into her hip.
Dear Heaven. His erection. It had to be. She’d seen pictures in books in the Ladies’ Literary Society.
His hand left her nape to trace over her cheek, her jaw, down her neck, softly, so very softly. Then lower. His fingertips caressed the exposed skin above her low bodice. Her nipples tightened as if he’d touched her breasts.
She squirmed as the area between her legs grew tingly and hot.
Abruptly his mouth left hers and he sat back.
Amelia opened her eyes.
Chase gazed down at her, his dark eyes hooded and glittering in the stuttering candlelight. A fine sheen of moisture dampened his forehead. He traced his fingertips over her jaw. “Is that what you had in mind, madam?”
Unable to speak, she nodded. In truth, she wanted him to keep kissing her but could not bring herself to ask it of him again.
He heaved a sigh that was half-groan, wrapped his hands around either side of her waist, and slid her off his lap. Afterward he rose and extended a hand to her, helping her to her feet.
She had needed his help to stand, she realized. Even now, her legs wobbled. Her insides shivered. She had no notion before marrying this man these heady sensations existed.
When we make love, it will be at your behest.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She licked her lips and experienced a flash of satisfaction when his gaze tracked the movement.
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
