A Taste of Desire(81)
Thomas shot a glance at the door and then back to her. He circled to come and stand behind her. “Is that really what you want to do—run?” His voice had a rumbling, sensuous quality. “You know what I believe, Amelia?” he whispered, lowering his head until his mouth feathered the rim of her right ear and his masculine scent infused into every pore of her body in sensual suffocation.
He was taunting her, damn him. “No, I don’t care to know.” But the hitch in her voice belied her words. She gave her head two determined shakes, as if that would sufficiently rid her of the languor that stole through her, softening her, weakening her.
“I believe you’re here awaiting me.” He kept his voice low and soft, his every word misting her ear in a sweet caress.
Amelia’s nipples tightened and pushed against the soft muslin cloth of her dress. “I came because of the cat,” she whispered, ducking her head to escape his warming breath on her face.
“Then why are you making no real effort to escape?” He turned her around to face him and placed one finger lightly on her parted lips when she attempted to speak. It would be a mistake for them to start like this. “No, don’t utter another word. We both know you’re here for this.”
Without giving her a chance to object, he pinned her arms to her sides while his tongue breeched the boundary of lips and teeth. When his tongue touched hers, Amelia’s knees wobbled. He tasted that rich and decadent; it felt that right. She encouraged him with an impassioned slide of her tongue over his. A shudder rifled through his body sending an answering heat pulsing between her thighs. This kiss had no limit. It blotted every thought from her mind, except the hard male form gathering her ever closer and bending her neck back.
Never had she experienced this kind of passion except in his arms, with his lips on hers. His hand moved to cup her breasts, and the layers of fabric covering her could not mute the kind of pleasure that caused her to whimper and tear her mouth from his, only to desperately seek it out again after she caught her breath and needed him again.
Nothing had prepared Thomas for the sheer wildness of their embrace. She was on fire for him, and he couldn’t get enough of her mouth, of her tongue, of her breasts, of everything she had to offer. Plastering her against the length of him, his erection stabbed at her belly with hard insistence as his hips imitated a sexual dance older than time.
Amelia responded with a slow, helpless roll of her hips, threatening to send him over the precipice of sanity. With a harsh groan and his breathing already laboring as if he had just run a mile, he tore his mouth from hers and swung her effortlessly up into his arms. He strode to the bedside, deposited her onto the mattress, and wasted no time in joining her. Under his deft fingers, he removed the dress from her body with the ease of a man who had more than a passing knowledge of women’s garments. Each scrap of silk and muslin he removed revealed breathtaking creamy flesh. Legs, long, slender, and exquisitely formed, snagged his breath, but it was the sight of the dark triangular patch of hair at the apex of her thighs that threatened to rob him of all reason and control.
His cock reared up and fought to split the seams of the front placket of his trousers. So intense was the sensation snaking through him, Thomas had to grit his teeth to contain a groan. He could think of nothing beyond driving himself into her, burying himself as deep as he could.
He managed to remove his hands from her quivering form long enough to divest himself of his clothes. Several shirt buttons popped in his haste, as Amelia lay sprawled on her back watching him with a decidedly bemused look on her face. He paused, momentarily transfixed at the sight she made, her lips parted and her eyes darkened to navy orbs. The glide of her tongue along the edge of her kiss-plumped lips jolted him from his daze and back into action.
He tossed his shirt to the floor, and came briefly to his feet to kick off the black wool trousers. His drawers came next, shoved over his hips with impatient hands. Amelia gave a sharp inhalation at the sight of his arousal springing out, so swollen and hard as to be painful. Debilitating him in a pleasurable kind of pain.
Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off his erection, long, thick, and heavily veined. Panic welled up inside of her. He could not possibly think he could put that in her. Dear Lord, there was no way it would fit. Her gaze flew to his taut visage. She instinctively tried to shield her nakedness from his devouring stare, one hand flying to try to span both breasts, while the other covered her privates.
“No, don’t hide from me,” he soothed, gently prying her hands from her body to secure them above her head while wedging a place for himself between her thighs. The heat of his erection settled heavily on the tender skin above the fleece of hair covering her sex, the contact inflaming her senses, sending her back into the intoxicating arms of passion.