Chapter Ten #2
“As if I could forget.” He curled his hand around the back of her neck. “Your hair smelled like lilies. Your lips tasted like cinnamon, but your neck… right here…” He rubbed her neck where he had when he removed her pearls. “I’ve never tasted anything sweeter than your skin.”
Achingly slow, he bent forward and placed his lips against her throat. His breath tickled her, and she trembled under him. He took his time, tongue sliding over her with one sinful stroke. Pure heat coursed through her. She reached for him, clutching his shirt as he trailed kisses to her jaw.
“I remember everything.” He traced the shell of her ear with his lips, murmuring darkly, “You’re the best kiss of my life, too.”
His hands traveled over her, teasing along the skin available to him. She tried to pull him closer, desperate for him.
He leaned back, lifted his head and challenged, “You’re not brave enough to kiss me, Lady Jasmine.”
Like hell I’m not!
She grabbed the back of his head and forced his mouth to hers. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he deepened their kiss, running his tongue against hers. It felt like fire, and it wasn’t enough. She entwined her arms around his neck, gripped his hair, and held him in place.
He tasted of wine, and she could have drowned in him. Swept away, she moved her tongue with his, throwing years of yearning into him. He groaned into her mouth and pushed her down on the table until she lay flat.
He separated from her, breathing hard. His thumb traced her bottom lip. As if in a trance, he murmured, “Don’t you feel that?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She felt that spark, and she wanted more. She pulled him down for another bruising kiss.
“Tell me how it feels when I kiss you,” he begged. “Talk to me in Spanish.”
He dragged his mouth down her throat, scorching a path to her chest. Where words failed in English, they flowed in Spanish.
“Tus besos se sienten como fuego…” She brought his mouth to hers and teased her tongue past his lips. “Y mi cuerpo, como si estuviese hecho para ti.” She pressed into him and whispered, “Quiero más… pero no sé cómo pedírtelo.”
“The way your tongue moves…” He groaned. “Dear God, Jasmine—I can’t bear it.”
Delving into her mouth once more, he plundered her with his tongue.
Firm hands mapped her from her hips to the dip in her waist. He strummed his fingertips over her corset and moved up.
All thoughts silenced as he cupped her breast, teasing her over the fabric.
She gasped and lifted toward his touch. His thumb toyed with her nipple through the cloth, sending a jolt of pleasure through her.
Heat rushed down to her core, and she moaned.
“Matthew, please.”
At the sound, he froze. Faster than a blink, he pushed himself up and strode to the other side of the room. Bewildered, she leaned up on her elbows and met his eyes—pupils blown, swimming with remorse.
Oh, no, he already regretted it!
His words came out in a crazed rush. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Running his hands through his hair, his curls fell about his face uncontrollably. “This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”
Trying to recover, Jasmine stood and straightened her dress. Her legs wobbled, and she held on to the table for support. Heart thumping heavy in her chest, harsh breaths seized her lungs as she tried to collect herself. “Yes, we shouldn’t do that again.”
“No.” He focused on her lips, already moving to her. Cupping her face, he whispered, “We shouldn’t…”
His mouth connected with hers again, drinking her in with every swipe of his tongue.
Lifting on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring him to her.
She stretched her body flush to his, unable to get close enough to him.
As his lips left hers, she pulled him back to her, begging, “Don’t stop. I’ve waited—”
With a growl from deep in his throat, he lifted her back onto the table and crashed his mouth onto hers. Between them, she tugged at buttons, unhooking them until his shirt lay open. Needing to touch his bare skin, she raked her fingers over his chest, her nails catching on coarse hair.
She kissed his throat, laved her tongue over his pulse point—then she nipped at him.
Her teeth grazed him. Roughly, he grabbed her hips, and brought her to the edge of the table.
Pulling on silk, he hiked her skirts and settled between her legs.
His palms reached through to the skin on her thighs.
His thumbs traveled up, nearing the center of her.
Unbearable need hit her like a tidal wave.
She arched into his touch and whimpered. “Yes.”
And he shot away from her.
“No! Damn it all!” He turned away and held onto the wall, shoulders shaking. “I can’t do this to you, I can’t—I’m not this type of man,” he choked. “You need to leave. Being in here with me is enough to compromise you—”
“Matthew, you’ve compromised me twice,” she argued. “So why…?”
Realization poured over her like a bucket of water.
He doesn’t want to marry me.
“Fine.” Her feet fell hard on the stone ground. “I’ll leave. I don’t care what you do.”
She shoved her feet into her slippers, grabbed her stockings, gloves, and...
The key to the door.
The small iron key weighed heavy in her hand, and a new option presented itself in her wine-addled mind.
Time was running out. Decisions were about to be taken away.
Jasmine considered Matthew’s words earlier.
He was searching for a wife and didn’t have high standards.
Someone willing to be seen with him. Kind. Intelligent.
Fearless.
Where else would he find that except with her? If he wouldn’t do the right thing, and her only options were the horrid men on her mother’s list, then she had no choice.
She wouldn’t marry anyone else.
Jasmine looked at Matthew, turned away, waiting for her to leave.
Heart pounding, hands shaking, she pretended to jiggle the door handle. She placed the key in the lock and twisted until the bolt latched, sealing their fates. Praying that one day he would forgive her, she slid the key into her glove.
“Matthew.” Her voice shook. “The door won’t open.”
He pivoted so fast he tripped. “What did you say?”
She tugged at the door once more and said slowly, “The door will not open. We are stuck.”