He drew her body against his, and all at once she was steaming.
“Just a kiss,” she murmured.
He kept one hand firmly around her waist as, with the other, he cupped the back of her neck. She closed her eyes. And then, those pillowed lips met hers, all sensation.
Initial shock gave way to something pliant.
Unconsciously, she molded her body against his. As he parted her lips and deepened the kiss, she feared that if she opened her eyes, she’d see blue arcs flashing between them. Magic, pure and simple. The quickening of life itself.
“Blackbird.” His voice was red-coal hot with desire.
Thiswas the power she’d sensed.
Power…but also surrender. Again and again, their mouths came together in a burning battle of wills. Take, or be taken. Consume, or be consumed.
Was desire always this way between a man and a woman?
Or was this indecency specific to him?
She couldn’t imagine every couple cavorted in such a fashion. And then all thought was driven from her head as his lips parted and he deepened the kiss.
The more she softened, the more blade-like he became. Soon, his pillowy lips grew harder and more demanding. And then he touched a spot just beneath her ear, prompting an animal sound she hadn’t known she could make.
Perhaps she’d been wrong. Perhaps this was takeandbe taken.
No. Never.
She unclenched his shirt, and, seeking to dominate yet again, she threaded her fingers into his mass of curls.
His plunder paused. “Yes,” he sighed. “Like me, you crave raw passion.”
Like him? She’d become him.
Chest against chest, his desperate hunger thrummed in every beat of his heart. As he had, she trailed her fingers down his nape, only she made sure he felt the light bite of her nails.
He moaned against her lips.
Smiling triumphantly, she cradled his head against her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck, and her spirit soared.
Every sensation was so strange, so new.
He was hard all over, and yet his hair slid between her thumb and forefinger, as silky as any one of her sisters’.
Good God.Her sisters!
She made a sound of distress and dropped her hands.
He cupped her cheek. “I presume I passed?”
Her brow furrowed, as much in confusion about his question as in confusion about, well, everything. How had she come to be here?
How could anything that had happened this night even be real?
“Well?” he prompted, his thumb tracing a line of heat along her jaw. “Will I do for your assignation tonight, my lady?”
The use of the honorific brought her fully back to her senses.
“You are—as your accent implies—a lady, aren’t you?
