Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(50)

He brought his mouth down to hover above hers. Her lids fluttered closed once more. His breath and the very nearness of him skittered across her mouth. His lips landed first on the corner of her lips. A startled sound escaped her when a hot flush raced through her at this first minor touch.

His lips left hers and skimmed her jaw line, tracing a path to her ear. He took her lobe between his teeth and Merry gripped his arms as shivers ran their fingers up and down her spine. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she gripped him tighter.

He lavished attention on her ear, the curve of her neck, her collarbone, all the while using his hand in her hair to direct her to his will. He pressed warm kisses to her forehead, down her nose, across her cheeks. Her breaths came in hot pants. If he was intending to drive her mad, he was succeeding. Every part of her ached with need. She wanted more of these hot, sensuous kisses but she craved nothing more than his mouth upon hers.

He moaned when she used her grip to pull him tighter against her. Both hands thrust into her hair with increased vigor. His mouth finally found hers and he kissed her with determination, as though resolved to imprint himself on her forever. He needn’t have worried. The first time he had kissed her was enough. Since then, she had been weak for him.

And boy oh boy was she weak for him now. Her legs trembled at the first sweep of his tongue. He kept her held firmly while he explored the depths of her mouth. She tasted his tongue, her body a whirl of sensation. His lips were firm, his tongue searching. She felt every inch of his firm body, including his arousal. Her body pulsed in response to the realization that she was summoning such desire in him.

One hand left her hair and skimmed down her side. It came around to cup her rear and she gasped as she found herself angled against his hardness with even more persistence. Merry slipped her hands up and gripped his neck, keeping him firm against her.

“Merry,” he murmured briefly against her lips before delving deeper.

She stumbled back under the onslaught, taking him with her. Her bottom hit the writing desk by the window and something fell to the floor. Harry lifted her bodily onto the desk and eased himself between her legs. She sucked in a breath and stared up at him. Their gazes locked. She could see his chest rise and fall. The golden candlelight made his gaze darker than ever. It brought out each line in his face, the etchings of his experience, everything that had made Harry the man he was today.

If this were a different situation, she’d want to run her fingers across his face and feel each line and talk of life but not today. Today, she could only think of feeling more. More Harry, more desire, more sensation. She’d spent too long thinking. Too many years and months and weeks thinking. For once in her life, she only wanted to feel.

He cupped her cheek and gripped her rear, notching his arousal against her through the layers of fabric between them. She moaned.

He wasted no time in bringing his mouth down upon hers. The heat built once more and increased as he rocked against her. Sweet sensations built between her legs and she could only hold on, powerless, as he kissed and rocked and kissed and rocked until the feelings crested and washed over her. She shuddered in his arms and he gentled his kisses, shifting them from her mouth to her cheek then her forehead. He finally rested his forehead against hers, stroking a thumb across her cheeks while his other hand rubbed soothingly up and down her back.

Finally, he drew away. A slight smile pulled at his lips, but his gaze was troubled. “I did not mean for that to happen, Merry.” He drew in shaky breath and pushed a hand through his hair. “You have a tendency to make me lose my mind.”

She readjusted her skirts about her but could not bring herself to stand yet. If she did, her legs would probably give way. Her blood still flowed warm, but it was slowly being replaced with cold shock at what she’d done. If he had wanted to, he could have probably taken her. All her principles would have been swept away. She swallowed hard.

“I think...I think you should leave.”

A furrow appeared between his brows. “I did not come here to seduce you.”

“Did you not?”

“I came to ensure you were safe. You cannot ask me to leave now.”

“I have to. I cannot let this...” She waved a hand between them, “keep happening.” She stood and straightened her shoulders, hoping she looked stronger than she felt.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“I do not. You talk of my past, of my behavior. Men can change, can they not? Surely you have seen the change in me, Merry. You’re the one responsible.”

“I’m not sure I want that responsibility.” The words were a lie. Oh, how easy it would be to give herself up to him and let herself believe it all.

“Merry, I know you too well. Do not fib to me.”

“Harry, there are too many reasons...”

“You have given me one. One that I will disprove over and over again, year after year, if you let me.”

Lord, how her heart fluttered at the idea. How wonderful it would be to receive his kisses...and more...for the rest of her days, to share in his life, to always have him by her side. It was a dream that was too good to be true.

“I...it’s the curse too,” she spilled out, unsure if she needed to convince him or herself. “And other things,” she finished quietly.

“The curse?” A laugh burst out of him. “You mean the gypsy curse?”