Page 58 of The Trouble with Tigers
Her mind went blank. “Excuse me?” He practically towered over her. She untucked her feet, planted them on the ground, and grasped the arms of her chair.
For a moment he stared down at her, his expression unreadable. Then he bent to take both her hands in his, and tugged her to her feet.
“What are you—”
“I won our game,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
She frowned in confusion.
“The chess game. Now I’m claiming my prize.” He cradled her cheeks in his warm palms.
Her insides melted like wax over a flame. “What do you—”
His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss.
Chapter Thirteen
He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but sometime between the start of their chess game and the mid-way point of their conversation, the need to taste her lips became an all-consuming craving, until he burned with it.
Her lips were sweet, and damned delectable, and his insides clamored formore. But he held back, waiting for a sign.
Seconds passed during which she held herself statue-still. He half-feared, half-hoped she would push him away.
Then those plump lips softened beneath his and her body, wraithlike, swayed toward him. Something hot and primal flared to life inside him.
He cupped the crown of her head with one hand, anchoring her in place, while his other hand skimmed her lower back, drawing her closer.
Her body, pliant and lithe, contoured to fit every hard angle of his. He grasped a handful of the long hair hanging down her back and the scent of her floated up at him like lavender vapor.
He wanted her. Wanted to explore every inch of her creamy skin, inhale the sweet feminine elixir of her that had him so drugged he couldn’t think.
A soft moan escaped her, and the proof of her desire for him was like fuel on an already blazing inferno.
“Kitty, touch me,” he said against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, as an instinct he could not fight took control of his will.
Her hands fluttered in the air before landing, feather light, on the pockets of his waistcoat. Too much damned material. He wanted her flesh on his.
He held his breath as her fingers crept upwards to clutch his shoulders. Then she was cradling his nape, her cool fingers toying with the hair at his collar.
Lust unfurled low in his belly.Morehis body screamed. He slanted his lips over hers as hunger tore at his insides. His tongue flicked at the corners of her mouth, seducing her lips apart little by little until, finally, he slipped inside.Sweet Jesus, she tasted like heaven. Better even than his memory of her, plaguing him day and night.
She mewed and pulled closer. The teasing weight of her hips through the layers of fabric barraged his self-control, urging him to carry her to the hearth, lay her down, and pull up her skirts. It would be so easy. So sweet.
He must be out of his ever-loving mind.
Calling on a will he no longer knew if he possessed, he forced his mouth from hers. He pressed his forehead against hers to stare down at her.
Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. Her breaths, coming in short little pants, whispered against his jaw.
Her lashes fluttered open, and their gazes locked. For a moment he lost himself in those pale green eyes, shining with desire and wonder.
Like a girl who’d never been kissed.
Guilt smote him, hot and swift.
His hands dropped, and he took a faltering step back.
A scuffing noise sounded in the open doorway, and he glanced up in time to see James skulking past the threshold. Perfect.
