AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Delaney kept thinking, when she could think at all, that she hadn’t known what she was missing.
On and on he kissed her with what she could tell, even half out of her mind, was both consummate skill and an edgy sort of passion. Something in her recognized it. Thrilled to it.
Wanted it—and him—all the more.
Something in her cracked open, wider and wider with every touch of his tongue to hers.
As if this was her true homecoming. His hands on her neck. His mouth on hers. And the storm that she thought she’d be perfectly happy to see rage on forever as long as he kept kissing her like this.
Like he might die if he stopped.
His scent was all around her now. It was indefinably male and entirely him. She wondered if later, if she survived this, she would be unable to breathe without the scent careening through her.
And even imagining that made it better. The intensity seemed brighter.
She shuddered, low and long.
And for some reason, that made him laugh in much the same way.
For a moment, she remembered herself. Her goals—or the fact that she ought to have had goals these last two weeks. She should have demanded to be taken to meet her biological relative at the very least. But she hadn’t. Every day she’d meant to make that stand, but she hadn’t.
Maybe this was why. She could see only Cayetano, and beyond him, the stars.
She could only see him and ever since she’d laid eyes on him at the farm, he was all she wanted to see. Here, now, she could finally admit that.
This was what she wanted. Or no matter what Catherine had said to her aboutadventure, she would never have gotten in that car.
There were more complicated reasons she hadn’t forced the issue of meeting the Queen. That hadn’t changed.
But there was also this.
There was Cayetano.
And this magical, marvelous fire between them that burned hotter by the moment.
When he pulled her close again, then hauled her up even further so he could hold her in his arms, all she could do was melt.
This time, he kissed her with all the wondrous desperation from before. She met him with the same yearning, the same fire.
But this time, as their lips tangled, the hand that wasn’t gripping her and holding her to him...traveled.
Down her bared shoulder, then to the bodice of her dress, unerringly finding her breast and lifting it out. He broke off from the kiss again, but before she could think to protest the loss, he bent his head. Shifting her as he held her there—outside, where presumably anyone could see them if they had a view of his balcony, and why didn’t she care?—he bent his mouth to her breast instead.
And when his lips closed on her nipple, proud and taut, it was as if all the stars in the sky above her crashed into her.
She let her head fall back. Her hands were fists on his shoulders.
But Cayetano...slowed down.
He slowed down, and then, if she wasn’t mistaken and it was her own pounding heart, he growled.
Then he did it again, and there was no confusing it. It was a profoundly male sound. It seemed to crash through her like so many stars, but they all landed deeper. Lower.
And one by one, began to burn there, low in her belly.
She had the notion, intense and beautiful, that he was devouring her. Eating her alive where they stood.
His mouth kept working at her breasts, and she arched her back so she could better offer herself to him. So she could be certain that he didn’t miss a single part of her.
