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‘Two.’
His soft voice cut through her ruminations and she realised her heart was pounding behind her ribcage.
She swallowed. He hadn’t moved, and yet the room seemed smaller; he seemed closer. Her senses were entirely focused on him.
His hair had flopped forward and she could see he was breathing as unevenly as she was. She found it almost shockingly exciting to think she could arouse a man like him to such a state. Because he was aroused. She could see the unchecked desire glittering in his darkened eyes and feel the dangerous intensity of his tautly held body.
Her stomach clenched and she felt an answering hunger in herself at the thought of finally being able to touch all that roughly hewn muscle. So what was she waiting for? Armageddon?
Lily slicked her tongue over her arid lips, a nascent sense of her own feminine power heating her insides and making her breasts feel firmer, fuller.
He must have sensed her silent capitulation because he moved then, pacing towards her with the latent grace of a man who knew exactly what he was about, and any notions Lily had had of taking charge of their lovemaking flew out of the window. She felt like that inexperienced seventeen-year-old again in comparison to him and his wealth of sexual experience.
He stopped just short of touching her and Lily gazed into his face with nervous anticipation.
‘Tristan…’ Her voice was a whisper of uncertainty and for a second her inner voice told her she was mad. She couldn’t possibly give this giant of a man what he needed.
Tristan reached out and curled his hand around the nape of her neck, angling her face to his. He stared at her for what felt like ages. ‘Tell me you want this.’
His warm fingers sent shock waves of energy up and down her spine and Lily was breathing so hard she was almost hyperventilating.
Want it? Need it sounded closer to the mark.
‘I do.’ She ran her tongue over her dry lips. ‘I do want this. You.’
She heard an almost pained sound come from Tristan’s throat as he lifted her face to his and took her mouth in a searing kiss. No preliminaries required.
Both his hands spread wide either side of her face as he held her still beneath his plundering lips and tongue.
Lily felt a sob of pure need rise up in her throat and reached up to grip his broad shoulders, to hang on as she gave herself over to the sensation of his masterful kiss.
He tasted of whisky and heaven, and for a moment Lily’s senses nearly shut down with the overload of sensation rioting through her.
She pulled back, gasping for breath as she realised the dizziness was from a lack of oxygen, hyperventilating for real now as he angled her head back and skated his lips across her jaw and down the smooth column of her neck.
‘Oh, Lord…’ Lily whimpered, her face nuzzling his to bring his mouth back to her own.
He gave a husky chuckle and acquiesced, kissing her with such unrestrained passion she thought she might faint. His big body moved in, pressing her into the wall behind her.
His kiss claimed her. Branded her. The hard wall was flat against her back as his equally hard chest moulded to her front.
She moved her hands into his hair and lifted herself to try and assuage the ache that had grown to almost painful proportions between her thighs.
One of his hands disentangled from her hair and found the naked skin at small of her back as he stumbled back slightly at her eager movements.
‘Oh, Lily, you’re killing me,’ he groaned into her mouth, his hands not quite steady as he held her in place against him.
His touch seemed as if it was everywhere and nowhere, and Lily could feel all her old emotions for this man welling up inside her. She couldn’t have stopped what was happening now even if she’d wanted to.
She shivered and arched into his caresses, moving restlessly against him as wanton pleasure con
sumed her. His touch was electric, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel him all around her, and inside that part of her that somehow felt soft and hollow and unbearably empty.
‘Tristan, please…’ Lily implored, her hands kneading the hard ridges of his upper back. He seemed to know what she needed because he brought his mouth back to hers, his tongue plunging inside as his leg pressed firmly between her thighs.
She felt a moment’s relief—but her dress hampered him from putting more pressure where she wanted it most and she squirmed in frustration.
Keeping her upright with his thigh, Tristan brought both hands up to cup her breasts, and then higher to drag the shoulders of her dress down her arms, baring her to the waist. Lily held her breath as he pulled back an inch and looked at her with such heated desire she could have wept.
