“I want you too.” She stroked a lock of hair from his forehead, her heart pounding with the astonishing realization that she could touch him exactly as she pleased, whenever she wanted. It was a Midsummer miracle.
She pressed a coaxing kiss to his lips. “I think you should show me all the kisses. Right now.”
His tortured groan sounded as if he was being stretched on the rack. “Believe me, there is nothing I’d love more, but we don’t have time for all the kisses, and this is definitely not the place.”
Her spirits dropped at what she thought was a refusal, until the corner of his mouth curved up.
“But I suppose I could demonstrate a few . . .”
His nose brushed the hinge of her jaw, and she tilted her head back into the sunlight to give him better access. He kissed a burning trail down her throat and along her collarbone.
“These are the kisses of a man who wants to kiss every inch if you.”
She threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged him lower. His lips reached the top curve of her breast, above the neckline of her dress.
“A man who wants to hold you and taste you.”
Her skin burned where he touched, happiness and desire twisting through her veins. She leaned back against the pillar, the stone warm from the sun.
James kissed the valley between her breasts.
“The kisses of a man who cannot wait to make you gasp with pleasure.”
He pushed down the front of her dress, exposing her breast to the warm summer breeze, but before she had time to feel embarrassed, he’d kissed her peaked nipple and drawn it into his mouth. The sensation was so delicious, so unexpected, that all she could do was gasp.
“James!”
His expression was pure wickedness as he glanced up at her and used his flattened tongue to lick a stripe over the tight bud that made her stomach twist.
“Oh! That’s so nice!” she groaned.
Something flared in his eyes, a laughing intensity that made her blood heat. “Nice? I can do better than nice.”
He dropped to his knees, and his long fingers encircled her ankles, their warmth burning through the silk of her stockings. He stroked up her shin, pushing her skirts up as he went, and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee.
Her lips parted in wonder. An aching throb pulsed between her legs.
His palms slid upward, under her skirts, to the ribbon garter tying her stockings, then higher still, to the bare skin of her thighs. Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed.
“Can I kiss you here?” His thumb skated over the smooth skin on the inside of her thigh, and she nodded. He could do anything he wanted. She was putty in his hands.
She caught his head, threading her fingers through his hair as his shoulders widened the space between her legs. Heat flashed over her as he pressed his lips where he’d touched, then kissed her again, even higher.
She wasn’t wearing anything under her chemise, and she shivered in breathless, throbbing agony as his warm breath teased the most sensitive part of her.
“What about here, Kitty?” His voice was deep, rough. “Can I kiss you here?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
He didn’t immediately comply, and the anticipation stretched her nerves. He looked up at her.
“Do you know what I was thinking yesterday, when you were getting the honey?”
She frowned, confused by the apparent change of topic. Was he trying to drive her insane? “What?”
His eyes were almost black, the pupils blown so wide they swallowed the gray.
“I thought of licking you. Tasting you,” he growled. “Like this.”
