His thumb dropped down to skim over her lower lip. “Do you know I’ve not kissed a single woman since you?”
His intense gaze held her mesmerized, until she doubted she could have pulled away if she wanted. Damn him. Chidding would never look at her withnaught but hunger and need. Damn her because she would never respond to his perusal with ravenous desire. It had been a mistake to put herself in a position to be alone with Knightly, to believe her body would not react in the manner he had taught it. Even now she was aware of the dampness gathering between her thighs in anticipation of what he would deliver.
“Bollocks,” she forced out. “I don’t believe you’ve been celibate all these years.”
“You’re right. I’m no saint. I didn’t say I hadn’t bedded a woman. I confessed to not kissing one. Because I knew none would taste as flavorful as you. Because kissing you had become one of my greatest joys, and I knew no other could ever compare.”
She’d not forgotten how his seduction always began with words but had mistakenly believed she’d become immune to their mesmerizing sway. Instead, she was incredibly aware of them sparking a fire within her, a fire only he possessed the power to douse. She hated the temptation threatening to undermine her resolve to resist his allure.
“Did you kiss your Spaniard?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Your Italian?” His voice went an octave lower.
“Yes.” Her response was slightly more breathy.
“Your Parisian?” Lower still.
“Yes.” Breathier.
“Your German?” Hardly audible.
“Yes.” All breath.
He dipped his head a minuscule fraction. “Then end my torment, my abstinence, and kissme. For old times’ sake. Afterall, a kiss is only a kiss.”
With him, a kiss had never beenonlyanything. “You’re a fool if you think it will be as it was before.”
“Then prove me a fool.” He dared her with a voice as smooth as silk, as warm as velvet.
Oh, she wasn’t half-tempted, to show him exactly how little he meant to her now. Nothing. Nothing at all. Not even as much substance as a mote of dust. Strange, how she sometimes reminisced about their last kiss, not realizing when it had occurred it would be their last. It had been a quick brushing of the lips in parting because in a few hours they’d have been married and every night thereafter was to be filled with an abundance of kisses. And every morning as well. She’d been beside herself with joy and anticipation at the thought of awakening in his arms with the first rays of the morning sun teasing the day. No more stealing out of each other’s beds in the dead of night, no more sneaking around desperate not to be seen. No more feeling guilty for doing what they ought not. For her sake, perhaps she required a proper ending, a final goodbye, one filled with loathing, one to demonstrate when her heart was no longer involved, a kiss was nothing at all.
Licking her lower lip, where his thumb still lingered, tasting the salt of his flesh, she gave one barely perceptible nod. But she knew he detected it because his eyes darkened with promise and passion.
His thumb slid away. He lowered his head and that damn heavy forelock brushed across her brow, just before his lips touched hers, gently at first as though testing the waters. She almost smiled, wondering if he’d expected her to bite. Then his tongue outlined theseam of her lips, and her traitorous mouth opened to him. He delved within and she became incapable of smiling or wondering, but only feeling, as he brought back to life all the sensations she’d forced to lie dormant since the day he’d broken her heart.
Of their own accord, her arms twined around his neck, her fingers scraped along his skull, beneath the thick strands of his hair, welcoming their softness as they greeted her after so long. His arm came around her, pressing her against him, and then he proceeded to devour her. His mouth was that of an untamed beast, ravenous and wild.Hewas a beast, growling low, clamping her to him as though to never release her.
While she knew she shouldn’t, she seemed incapable of not relishing the urgency with which he partook of their joining. She knew him well enough to sense the tension in him, to be acutely aware of the restraint he wielded—he wanted more, wanted it all. But he limited himself to only what she was offering.
He brought his hand up to cradle her head and tip it back, giving him easier access to plunder, to conquer. Except she was no longer the young innocent to be vanquished. While she had planned to hold completely still and give nothing back and prove she was completely free of him... well, that ship had already sailed since she was presently clinging to him like some sort of vine capable of finding purchase over the most challenging of surfaces. Later, she would curse herself for her lack of resistance.
But for now, she determined her best course was simply to make him suffer, to be bolder, more enthusiastic, more daring. To remind him of precisely whathe could have had. To make him regret this was indeed their very final kiss.
With a low moan, she clamped his head between her hands and angled it so she could deepen the kiss with a fervor that far outdid his. Their tongues tangled. Then she sucked on his until he released a tortured groan, the rumblings of which she felt traveling through his chest. In spite of all his clothing. She stopped short of removing it, of imagining how five years might have changed his body’s contours. He’d certainly not gone to fat during that time. If anything, he felt firmer.
While he tasted of cake, strawberries, and scotch, woven throughout the mixture of sweet and dark was his familiar tantalizing flavor, one to which she’d once been addicted. But then every aspect of him had called to her, had seemed right. Only it had all been a lie.
Breaking off the kiss, she clutched his head to hold it in place while leaning back to see him more clearly. His cerulean eyes were smoldering with need and want. His breaths came in short pants. His arm loosened its hold. His fingers barely touched her cheek now, as though he was awakening from a long laudanum-induced sleep and just beginning to stir.
“In case it missed your notice,” she began, grateful her voice didn’t betray all the emotions rioting through her, “that was farewell.”
Separating herself from him completely, she spun on her heel.
He grabbed her arm. “Reggie—”
She broke free of him and gave him her most haughty glare. “Never touch me again.”
