Page 85 of When He Was Wicked
Simon surged up the steep hillside, the earth crumbling beneath him as he ran. The stones that clattered to the bottom of the hill landed with an ominous crack. Suddenly he was there and he was safe. Zeus trembled in the cage of his arms, and Simon handed him over.
“Why would you take such a risk,” she cried on the verge of tears, stroking Zeus until he calmed. “You almost died!”
“Nonsense,” Simon said gruffly. “I was perfectly safe.”
Henrietta thumped his chest, painfully aware that her heart still pounded with fright. “Why would you take such a risk, Simon?”
“Did you want to lose Zeus?”
“Never,” she breathed. “Do you think I could have born it if you were hurt from such a fall?”
He touched a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. “I lost Apple, and for weeks I was numb. I could not damn well sleep or eat. I cried without shame.”
Her heart pounded and she asked, “Who was Apple?”
Simon released the wisp of hair he curled around a finger and used that finger to tenderly trace the lines of her cheekbone and her jaw. Her heart ached so badly that she found it difficult to breathe. Henrietta was unsure if she should lean into his tender touch or step away. Every time his gaze met hers, her heart turned over in response. Only it was a reaction she did not fully understand.
A hot ache grew in her throat, and she once again asked, “Who was Apple?”
“My collie,” Simon murmured, his eyes darkening more toward blue. “She was loving, tenacious, clever, plucky, and loyal. We…she was my best friend for sixteen years. When I dove after Zeus, the thought that drove me was that I could not bear for you to feel a similar grief.”
He touched the corner of her eye tenderly with his thumb. “I did not want to see these beautiful blues well up with tears.”
His words echoed around them,and Simon wanted to curse. A flush had traveled from Henrietta’s collarbone up to hercheekbones. A pulse beat at the base of her throat, teasing and tempting him to dip and kiss that very spot. Under the sunlight, her dark auburn hair held a faint tint of mahogany. The short tresses curled along her forehead and cheeks, and the rosy flush on her face was arousing. Her soft weight rested against him. She was petite, barely reaching his chest, with slender curves and a lush backside undoubtedly fashioned to tease and torment in equal measure.
Before he could step away from her maddening nearness, Miss Henrietta tipped onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, tender as a butterfly’s wing.
“Thank you for saving Zeus. I shall never forget your kindness. Thank you, Simon.”
Something elusive whispered through Simon, but it was warm and heady. It was wicked of him, and he should not do it, but he bloody well did. He turned his face so that the soft touch of her mouth ghosted across his lips.
Just a small taste…
They both froze into profound stillness. His heart stuttered inside his chest, and he kept his eyes open so that he might watch her. Simon made no attempt to hide that he was watching her, and Henrietta daringly kept her gaze on his. That gaze slowly filled with awareness and tenderness, and lust.
A peculiar sense of something new wavered on the periphery of Simon’s awareness. He glided his tongue along her bottom lip, and with a soft sigh, she parted her mouth. Her sweet taste shocked his senses, and it felt as if lightning had struck his heart and electrified every cell in his body. It was this newness…her taste, her scent, the softest moan that whispered from her and arrowed down to his cock. All this was new, different, captivating to his jaded senses.
A warning hissed in the dark corner of his mind, but because he did not understand it, he allowed the raw desire coursingthrough him to lead. Gathering her into his arms, he held her snugly. Simon kissed her, his mouth moving expertly over hers, teasing, coaxing her to relax and open up until he could dart his tongue between her lips in a quick, sensual glide.
Ah, hell, her taste was like sun-ripened peaches and the sweetest wine.
Henrietta jerked in surprise, and a muffled moan vibrated against his mouth. It had been a long time since he had felt this way from a kiss. Simon stilled, his heart pounding. That was a lie. He hadneverfelt this way before. The anomaly of it allowed him to draw back when every instinct urged him to ravish.
Simon willed his pulse to slow, his cock to stop throbbing, to regain some semblance of control. A bone-deep yearning had opened inside his chest for more…of her. What exactly he could not say.
Everything, a small voice whispered inside of him.You want her body and her heart. For God’s sake, he was turning into a whimsical fool.
“That was interesting,” she murmured, her eyes glittering with soft desire and curiosity.
“What was?”
“My first kiss,” she whispered against his mouth. “I dreamed of kissing you.”
He stilled. “Ah, Miss Sutton, that was hardly a kiss.” And regret curled through him, for he wanted nothing more than to show her a real kiss. But that would be a damning mistake, and he would protect her honor and—
His thoughts careened to a brutal stop when she pushed forward and pressed her mouth to his.
“Show me then,” she whispered, sweetly provocative. “I assure you my supposed delicate sensibilities will not be distressed or shocked.” Another pause. “Or perhaps that is what I want…do shock me, Simon.”
