Page 61 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
But Imelda was weak. And Corin was right there, his lips centimeters from her own.
She knew all the arguments that sheshouldmake. But none of them left her lips.
Instead, she angled her face up, stepping even closer to Corin as he lowered his face the rest of the way.
Lord help her…she would never get used to him kissing her.
It was like every dream she’d ever dared to have come true.
The whole world around them ceased to exist as he lowered one hand from her face, his hand grabbing her hip and hauling her into him as his tongue swept the bottom curve of her lips like a man who’d only just found the taste.
Trust him, he said, and her body leaned fully into that command.
He gripped her hip tighter as he walked them backward, his hardened manhood pressing into her belly and sending fissures of desire through her whole being. She couldn’t open her eyes to see where they were going, couldn’t pull away from him at all as his teeth scraped her lower lip, pulling it from her so that his tongue could slip between her lips instead.
She was all feeling as her back hit something hard, Corin’s hand leaving her hip only long enough to fumble with the door knob before the portal swung inwards, and their bodies did along with it.
Imelda would have fallen on her own. There was no grace in the way she clung to Corin, her fingers digging into the fabric covering his chest as he maneuvered them into the room and kicked the door closed behind them.
Her head spun as she allowed her hands to traverse his chest, lifting up until his shirt moved away, revealing the skin of his neck, and she felt confident enough to slide her hands around it until the hair at the base of his neck tumbled over the backs of her fingers.
The noise that left her as his tongue dominated hers was indecent, a gasping sort of moan that felt pulled from the very depths of her.
But Corin’s response was worth any amount of embarrassment.
His chest rumbled as he backed her into the vanity table at the edge of the room, his hand at her hip traveling until he could take the whole of her thigh beneath her skirts in his grip. It was bruising, the way he held her. Desperate and untamed. He hauled her leg up, stepping between her skirts until she could feel him pressed just there at the juncture of her thighs, and all reason turned to madness in her mind.
There were too many layers between them. Too much heat and not enough skin.
“Corin, please,” she begged as his lips broke from hers, not even knowingwhatshe was asking for. Just that she needed it.
“Yes, Imelda,” Corin growled against her jawline, his teeth scraping it as he kissed and bit his way down it to her neck.
The hand that had been holding her face shifted, rolling against her skin and down, down until her back was arched and his fingers were closed over the too-tight binding over her chest.
“Oh, God, Corin.”
His thumb brushed the pointed peak of her nipple through all of that fabric, and every nerve ending in her body went off, her legs shuddering as she pressed her hips indecently into him.
“No.” Corin’s word was a rasp as he pulled back, removing his hips from between her legs. “Not yet,” he promised, making no sense at all to her. “This isn’t about me.”
Wasn’t it?
Imelda’s thoughts spun.
It was about him. It was always about him. Everything in her life, every detail, always led back to him.
But he had rendered her speechless, his hand leaving the fabric covering her breast only long enough to pull the shoulder of her gown down roughly, the dress sliding down her chest as he did so from the uneven fit.
Cold air hit her nipples as Corin pulled back, and Imelda felt the flush in her cheeks creep down her neck and to her chest as well, a sliver of self-consciousness interrupting the pleasure.
“My God,” Corin breathed, his eyes so dark that they nearly glowed. “Do you know what you do to me?”
Imelda shook her head, her words still jammed in the back of her throat, but she could feel exactly what she did the moment he pressed his hips back into her leg, the evidence making her abdomen clench even further.
His lips returned to her collarbone, the hand at her thigh balling the fabric of her skirts up little by little until she could feel the air against her calves.
“Corin…”
