Page 86 of If the Slipper Fits
“Well?”
She cleared her throat. “I never used the word paragon.”
He made an inarticulate sound that she interpreted as half frustration half amusement. “Anna, do you want me to kiss you? Because I swear by everything holy, if you don’t you’d better tell me n—”
“Yes.Please.”
He cupped her nape with hands she could swear shook. Then he bent and pressed his lips to hers, softly, so softly she thought she might expire from the pleasure of it.
With the gentlest of pressure his tongue played at the seam of her lips, parting them, then easing past. His mouth was hot and tasted of sweet ale and heaven. She never wanted his mind drugging kiss to end.
She clung to him as her bones turned liquid and her knees threatened to give out.
As if aware of the effect his kiss had on her, he scooped her into his arms. He carried her to the bed, then sprawled onto his back, cradling her atop him as the mattress jostled and squeaked its protest.
She slid off his chest, dragging half of his robe with her, fully baring his chest. Feeling audacious and bolder than she had a right to, she levered herself onto her forearm to drink in the sight of him, long and lean and stretched out alongside her.
The supple skin of his torso glowed bronze in the stuttering firelight and that intriguing line of glistening tawny golden hair fanned out from below his belly button, then narrowed to disappear beneath the waistband of his trousers.
Her gaze dipped lower, taking in the bulging evidence of his arousal. Her breath caught as joy and delight, anticipation and longing swirled inside her. He did want her.
He swallowed audibly and lifted one hand to trace the curve of her cheek. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Anna?”
“I…” She licked her lips. “I was so sure you didn’t want me…”
“You little fool.”
She fell into him, her fingers kneading the rippling muscles of his chest, her lips pressing into the base of his throat. She dipped her tongue into the tender hollow where his heartbeat pulsed.
His skin was warm and firm and tasted of salt and Caden.
He drew in a ragged breath and she felt him loosening her braid. “Yes, darling. Touch me. Everywhere.”
Reckless, giddy, unfathomable delight filled her to overflowing.
With a groan, he speared his fingers into her now-loose hair. Gooseflesh rippled over her body and she shivered with pleasure.
Cupping her nape, he drew her face level with his.
She met his gaze and sucked in a breath at the raw desire she saw reflected there.
“To be clear, I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.”
If she could speak, she’d tell him she felt exactly the same way about him.
He dragged her face toward his and their lips tangled in a voracious kiss. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling her body against the hard plains of his chest. A whimper of need sounded in her throat. She was too lost to care.
Caden’s answering half groan, half growl was all the warning she got before, in a lightning swift move, he shifted their positions.
He lay atop her, his forearms bracketing her shoulders, his muscular thighs cocooning hers, his hips nestled into hers.
He cupped her face between hot, slightly damp palms. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, brushing her lips with lingering kisses that turned her insides to melted wax.
When his tongue began slipping in and out of her mouth, her own body’s demand for more emboldened her to touch the tip of her tongue to his. A shiver went through him.
A moment later he tore his mouth from hers and pressed his face into her neck. “I need to taste you,” he whispered against her skin.
She had no notion of what he meant, but his gruff words curled into her, causing her insides to tremble with violent need.
