Page 48 of A Story of Love

But he must have, because his mouth lowered over hers.

Given his reputation, she had expected a forceful, aggressive claiming, but his lips were soft and gentle as they drifted over her mouth, learning the shape of her with a light tracery of kisses, teasing her until she pressed her lips against his.

He gave an approving murmur and angled his head so that she could reach him more easily.

So…this is what kissing was like.

“Lorelei,” he murmured, the word a warm feather brushing over her cheek. “Are you a siren… luring me to my doom?”

If he expected an answer to that question—or any other—he was destined to be disappointed, because a wordless grunt was all she could manage.

He chuckled softly and then claimed her mouth again, harder this time, his tongue slicking along her lower lip, his teeth gently nipping. The second kiss quickly grew more intense, his touch commanding and demanding and she quickly found herself towed beyond her depth.

One of his hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer while he cupped her head with his other hand, angling her for his pleasure. His body was enticingly hot and hard, and her hands behaved with a will of their own, stroking the fine wool of his coat, her fingers closing over his lapels so she could tug him lower and closer.

Lori gave a whimper of surprise when his tongue probed her slightly parted lips.

“Let me in, Lorelei,” he murmured.

How…shocking.

She opened to him and his hands molded her body to his, his tongue slick and hot. The myriad sensations that flooded her were as enticing as they were confusing and at first Lori felt overwhelmed, as if she’d been caught up in a sensory cyclone. But then…gradually, without even realizing it, she began to not only respond, but explore, caressing his tongue with her own and nipping his firm lower lip.

Lori’s mind was rarely still; even when she slept a non-stop parade of dreams consumed her. But right then, for the first time in her life, she was entirely in the moment, the masculine scent of his cologne mingling with the faint taste of port and the warmth of his hands until every single part of her felt alive.

And then he pulled away.

He chuckled when she tried to follow him, his big hand firm on her waist as he steadied her, the slight clench of his fingers commanding in a way that aroused, rather than annoyed, her.

Lori wrenched her gaze from his reddened, slightly parted lips to eyes. The startling blue of his iris was a mere sliver, swallowed by twin black pools of desire.

Desire for her.

The pulse at the base of her neck fluttered hard enough that she felt it. His gaze dropped to it briefly before lifting back up to her eyes.

“Come home with me, Lorelei.”

Chapter 13

Fast regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. Bloody hell! It had been years—decades—since he’d bungled so badly.

Lorelei, rightfully, looked as if somebody had just tipped a bucket of cold water over her head. She took an unsteady step backward, the sleepily aroused expression of only a second earlier already gone.

“Ah,” Fast said.

She bristled. “What do you mean ah?”

“You’ve come back to yourself. For a moment I thought—” He broke off and shrugged. “Just ah.”

“What did you think? That I would go to your house”—her eyes widened— “or perhaps you thought to bring me back to the brothel?”

Fast couldn’t help smiling at her anger. “There, that is more like it.” Strangely enough, he hadn’t liked seeing her flustered and uncertain—especially not when he’d been the one to wrong-foot her.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” she demanded.

“What way?”

“Pityingly.”