Chapter 10 #4
She kissed him with all of the emotion that she could not yet put words to. Kissed him with all she had, wanting it never to stop.
Patrick was mindless with lust, his hunger insatiable. The claret had dulled his reason. All he could think of was touching her, sinking into the heat, and making her his.
It was what she wanted, too. He knew it in the way her body went limp in his arms in sweetest surrender. She dissolved against him, warm and syrupy.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the large wooden table, laying her back so that her hips rested just on the edge.
His breathing was as heavy as the pounding of his heart as his gaze swept over her flushed cheeks, her pink lips softly parted, her trusting blue eyes hazy with desire.
Her skirts were tangled in glorious disarray, revealing part of one slim, shapely leg.
So beautiful. So ripe and ready for his touch. He’d never been more aroused in his life. He wanted to see her naked, splayed out before him. The only thing that prevented him from ripping apart her bodice was the crowd of people in the other room.
The possibility of discovery only heightened the urgency.
Slowly, he edged up her skirts and sucked in his breath. He jerked hard, the sudden pull in his groin almost unbearable.
She was naked from the waist down except for thin ivory stockings that stopped above her knee and pale blue satin slippers on her tiny feet.
Her legs were exquisite—delicately shaped with flawless velvety ivory skin that he ached to touch.
And between her legs was the sweetest soft pink flesh he’d ever seen.
He couldn’t wait to taste her. To slide his tongue between her honey folds, to take her shudders of pleasure against his hungry mouth.
His pause had given her time to be embarrassed, and she tried to push down her skirts.
He grabbed her wrist and held her gaze. “No. I want to see you. Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”
Her cheeks flushed and he could see her uncertainty, but before she could protest he touched her, sliding his hand between her thighs. “God, your skin is so soft.” He scraped his knuckles back and forth along the tender skin, and she shivered. “Like silk,” he whispered huskily.
She tossed her head back, and the sexy little throaty sound she made told him that she’d forgotten her embarrassment. His fingers swept higher, closer, teasing her until she moaned. Until her body started to quiver. For him.
In their passion, if nothing else, they were equal.
He inhaled deeply, the faint feminine scent of her desire calling to him in the darkest, most primitive way. “Look at me, Lizzie,” he demanded gently. “I want to see your face when I touch you.”
Her eyes widened and her breath came quickly from between her lips in a little gasp, but she didn’t look away. Her hips lifted reflexively against his hand.
It was he who closed his eyes with a groan of pleasure when he finally slid his finger inside her.
The relief was too intense. She was so slick and soft.
So hot. His finger dipped inside her, and she closed around him like a glove.
He sank into her again and again as he pressed the heel of his hand against her mound.
The sweet little sounds she made forced his eyes open, and the look of utter rapture on her face nearly undid him. He was hard as a damn rock and ready to explode, throbbing to the point of pain. But he didn’t stop.
He was going to make her come.
He watched her breath quicken, watched the confused restlessness cross her face, watched as her back arched and her hips started to press against his hand. He couldn’t wait to get inside her. Couldn’t wait to meet her passion with his own.
He could feel it come. Feel the pressure build and the need for release drown out everything else. Feel that sudden clench—the little pause at the very peak of pleasure—before she started to break apart.
It was the moment he’d been waiting for.
He pressed against her mound a little harder, increasing the friction to make her pleasure more intense, and found the sweet little spot with his finger.
Her eyes widened with surprise as the rippling contractions crashed over her.
She cried out, and her sexy little sounds of pleasure made him pulse.
Watching her come was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He clenched hard to prevent himself from joining her. Not yet.…
He kissed her again, sliding his tongue deep in her mouth with long, demanding strokes as he fumbled with the ties of his breeches—not for the first time cursing the absence of his plaid—and positioned himself between her open legs.
The thick head of his cock nudged against her warm dampness, the contact almost shooting him over the edge in a burst of sensation.
He had her. All he had to do was close his eyes, toss back his head, and slide deep inside her. She was his for the taking, thoroughly seduced. If he took her, she would marry him. He knew it.
He didn’t know what stopped him—perhaps the kernel of deep-seated honor awakened by Lizzie—but with a pained growl, he broke the kiss. His eyes searched her face. “Tell me not to stop, Elizabeth,” he said tightly. “Tell me you want me.”
She was still soft with her release, and confusion filled her eyes. “You know I do.”
He looked right into her eyes, breaking through the haze, forcing her to think. “Then you’ll marry me?”
“I …”
Hesitation was the only answer he needed.
She didn’t want him. Not enough, anyway. What the hell had made him think he could compete with the likes of Robert Campbell? The moment was gone, fading into uncomfortable silence.
The fire in his veins turned to ice. He uttered a vile oath and pulled away from her. The pain in his groin was nothing compared to the tight burning in his chest.
She sat up, her face crumpled. “Don’t you see? I’m trying to do the right thing.”
He turned back to her, his face revealing no hint of the sting she’d given him.
“So am I.” And he was a fool. Honor had no part in his life—not anymore.
This was about getting his clan’s land back.
Righting a grave injustice. He wasn’t supposed to give a damn.
His eyes narrowed on her. “But you had better make a choice soon, because next time I won’t stop.
” He went to the door. “I hope your family realizes the sacrifice you intend to make for them. But if they love you as much as you say they do, I would think they would want your happiness.”
She didn’t say anything, just stared at him with a helpless look on her face. Achingly vulnerable. She appeared to be exactly what she was—a woman who had just come apart in his arms. She wanted reassurance, but he forced himself not to go to her.
He’d given her the best part of himself, and it hadn’t been enough.
His eyes lingered over her swollen mouth, mussed curls, and disheveled clothing. “You might want to freshen up a bit before you return to Campbell,” he said coldly. His eyes raked her face. “You have the look of a woman who has just been very thoroughly pleasured.”