As the Devil Dares (Capturing the Carlisles #3)(24)

“Let that be a warning to you,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “about exactly what kind of beast I am.”

Her heart stuttered, a jarring beat that jolted painfully through her. Was that all this was—an object lesson to make her behave? Her bafflement turned instantly to the anger of a pricked pride and her thoughts to retaliation. If he thought she could be managed so easily with only heated kisses and charming smiles, then he certainly had another think coming!

Fighting down her rising blush, she forced a blank expression onto her face and asked with false na?veté, “Let what be a warning?” When his jaw clenched, she let fly her arrow—“You mean that little kiss?”

Ignoring the way his eyes narrowed on her, she laughed lightly with forced embarrassment for him. When what she really felt was an inexplicable yet hungry desire to have his mouth on hers again. But her pride was too wounded to admit it.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize…Perhaps,” she offered with feigned helpfulness, “you should try that again, and this time, I promise, I’ll pretend to be contrite. So go on.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips in flagrant exaggeration. “Go on, then—kiss me.”

When he didn’t move, just as she knew he wouldn’t, she cracked open one eye to peer at him. Oh, the fury on his face! Exactly what he deserved.

“Well, then.” She stepped sideways to free herself from the barricade of his body. “I believe we’re done here.” Perhaps next time he’d think twice before—

He grabbed her shoulders and pressed her back against the wall, his mouth seizing hers.

No, she realized as she melted bonelessly against him, he was not the kind of man to think twice before claiming what he wanted. And what he seemed to want—she trembled—was her.

She once more slipped her arms around his neck, once more leaned up to eagerly meet the delicious onslaught of his mouth against hers. He was a scoundrel, a cad, a rake, but his kisses—oh, sweet heavens, his kisses! They left her breathless and weak, her mind spinning with a swirling rush of emotions and sensations, until all she knew was the persistent warmth of his lips enjoying hers and the electric tingle that sparked from every place their bodies touched.

But this time, he was different. Instead of the raw anger and frustration that had driven him to demand that first embrace from her, this one was softer. As if he were attempting to persuade rather than conquer. To entreat her to melt beneath his embrace. And, God help her, that was exactly what she was doing. She went limp in his arms even as she yearned for more.

When the tip of his tongue traced along the seam of her lips and coaxed her to open, he gave her exactly what she wanted—more. More heat as his tongue invaded her mouth to claim the entire kiss. More aching in her loins as he explored every dark recess of her mouth and made her shiver when he swept his tongue across her inner lip. And even more dizziness and weak knees, until she melted against the wall behind her and didn’t fight him at all as his hand slipped behind her nape and his strong fingers kneaded seductively at the base of her skull.

Her last thread of resistance snapped at that surprisingly erotic caress, which joined rhythmically with the slow but steady thrust of his tongue between her lips and the increasing throbbing between her legs. His mouth slid away from hers, and a soft whimper of loss fell from her parted lips.

“Mariah.” He smiled against her cheek.

A stab of defeat pierced her. So Carlisle thought he’d won, did he? Well, she’d prove to him that it would take more than that to convince her to surrender.

This time when he stepped back, Mariah advanced.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and delved her fingertips through the golden curls at his nape, then pressed her body so tightly against his front that she felt his heart slamming furiously against her chest. When she brushed her hips against his, a low groan tore from the back of his throat. Emboldened, she brazenly kissed him, and in that moment’s hesitation, when he was too stunned to move, she slipped her tongue between his lips the way he’d done to her.

That was enough to snap him out of his reverie.

He grabbed her shoulders and set her away, demanding in a raspy voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Despite the racing of her heart and the need to gulp back the air he’d stolen, she forced a shrug of her shoulders. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Kissing you.”

Then she pressed against him again, her lips managing to barely make contact with his before he set her away. An angry scowl hardened his face.

“Don’t you want me to?” she prompted as innocently as possible.

Something dark and heated flickered in his eyes, and thinking it was anger, she thrilled at finally gaining the upper hand. Hiding her own shaking and quaking brought on by the heat of his embrace, she leaned toward him as far as his restraining hands would allow.

She purred huskily, “Surely the notorious Robert Carlisle knows what to do with a woman who wants to kiss him.”

Despite gritting his teeth, his gaze fell longingly to her mouth, and for a moment, she thought he might just kiss her senseless again. And if he did, she wasn’t certain that she could withstand it this time without falling completely apart in his arms.

“Don’t tease me, Mariah,” he warned in a murmur. “You’re playing with fire.”