Chapter 5 #2
“God, you taste so sweet. Like honey.”
Kitty’s heart was pounding. If she hadn’t already known it was James she was kissing, that comment would have given him away. She hadn’t understood the strange, hungry look he’d given her when she’d licked the honey from her fingers earlier. But had it been desire?
She slid her hands up his chest and fisted the front of his waistcoat. “More. Please.”
“God, yes.”
His hand slid to the back of her head. His mouth recaptured hers, and time lost all meaning.
Their tongues dueled and slid as he initiated a leisurely exploration that built a warmth in her by slow degrees.
She was aware of nothing but the delicious friction of his skin, the slight rasp of stubble on his jaw, the strength of his arms.
A groan, almost pained, rumbled from him as she abandoned herself to the kiss, returning what he gave, urging him on. It was glorious, decadent. Even better than she’d imagined. She wanted to do this forever.
Breathless minutes later, he pulled away. She opened her eyes but still couldn’t see him; it was too dark. But she could hear his ragged breathing, feel the thundering of his heart beneath the layers of waistcoat and shirt.
Her own lips were tingling, her cheeks flushed with heat. Her breasts were aching, and a strange swirling sensation gnawed in her belly. She knew what it was: lust. Desire. For James.
Only for James.
Damn him.
She sucked in an unsteady breath. “Now I see why people rate kissing so highly.”
There was only a tiny quaver in her voice.
It was as if her voice broke the spell. James stepped away abruptly, strode across the room, and cracked open the door. A sliver of light from the hall intruded, but he kept to the shadows behind the wood.
“You should leave, Miss Worth.”
Kitty frowned in confusion. Wasn’t he going to reveal himself? Why would he let her think she’d just been kissing Charles?
“But—” she stammered.
He opened the door a fraction more, in clear indication that she should precede him.
“Goodnight.”
There was no arguing with that tone. In a daze, Kitty retreated down the curving steps and started toward her room. As she passed the broom cupboard, she heard Charles’s muffled shouts from within. A few weak thumps echoed as he pounded on the inside of the door, followed by an outraged bellow.
Kitty bit her lip. She still had no key to let him out. And even if she did, she had no desire to face him now and make explanations. He’d just have to wait for one of the servants to discover him. Or for James to let him out.
She turned back to the tower staircase, determined to wait for James and confront him, but ten minutes passed with no sign of him.
Blast. There must be another way down from the tower. The whole castle was riddled with secret passages and hidden stairways; she and Gwyn had discovered several of them when they were younger.
With a sigh, she slipped back into her bedroom, more confused than she’d ever been in her life.
What had that been about? Had James been so distracted by passion that he’d forgotten to reveal himself? Had kissing her addled his brain as much as it had hers?
It seemed unlikely. Her inexperienced fumbling, however enthusiastic, scarcely had the power to send a man like him to his knees.
Maybe he’d just seen the opportunity for an anonymous kiss and taken it? Perhaps he would have done the same with any of the other willing ladies here at the castle.
Or had it been nothing but curiosity? Had he wanted to see what it would be like to kiss her, after all these years? What if he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as she had?
Kitty pressed her palms to her heated cheeks and let out a long sigh. How was she going to face him—or Charles, for that matter—in the morning?
James rested his forehead against the cold stone of the tower wall and resisted the urge to bash his brains out. God, he was such a fool. Why hadn’t he revealed himself? Now Kitty thought she’d been soul-kissed by that imbecile Charles Willingham.
“You bloody idiot,” he muttered to himself.
James knew women, knew their responses. Kitty had thoroughly enjoyed herself—she’d practically melted in his arms. God, those eager little sounds she’d made, the press of her small, lush body against his, would haunt him forever. He’d dreamed of kissing her for so long.
He clenched his fists. He’d probably just convinced her that marrying Willingham would be an excellent idea. That the two of them shared an extraordinary physical compatibility.
It had been extraordinary. Kitty might not have the benefit of experience to know the difference between a good kiss and a bad kiss, but he did. And it had never been that good, that perfect, with anyone else.
Probably because he’d never felt for another woman one-tenth of what he felt for Kitty.
He’d entered the tower room with no real plan.
The vague idea of surprising her, of sending her back to her room scolded and un-kissed, had disappeared the moment she’d enclosed them both in the darkness.
The scent of her, the feel of her soft skin, had been irresistible.
And when he’d put his mouth on hers, he’d felt as if he were finally where he was meant to be.
Weeks of enforced celibacy hadn’t helped. It was a miracle he hadn’t lost his mind.
She’d actually sounded disappointed when he’d broken it off, but he’d been desperate to make her leave before he lost all semblance of control. He’d been seconds away from untying her stays, lowering her onto the bed, and baring her body to his seeking hands and greedy mouth.
God, he wanted to devour her.
James hissed in discomfort and released another pent-up breath. He was still rock-hard in his breeches.
What a monumental mistake. How was he ever going to make things right?