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Skin like driftwood worn to silk by the pounding of the ocean.
He wanted to push her clothing aside to find more smoothness to devour, but he couldn’t allow himself to touch her. That would be going too far.
“You’re so sweet,” he said roughly. He kissed her cheek. “So soft.”
In answer, she slid her hand inside his robe and traced the muscles of his abdomen.
“You’re...” She tugged on the knot of his robe but it held fast.
Thank the Lord for small favors.
When she couldn’t gain access, she slid both her hands inside, around his waist, down his lower back.
“You’re... hard. Everywhere,” she said. “There’s not an ounce of softness, or give.”
She had no idea. The things he wanted to do to her. Show her where his hardness was meant to slide. Give her so much pleasure.
But this was just a kiss.
He touched her cheek. “You have a scratch.”
“From the rosebushes when I was watching you.”
“Your punishment.”
“And this is my reward.”
One more kiss and he’d send her on her way.
Mina had planned a swift, distracting kiss on his lips and then a swift escape.
That was at least a quarter hour past.
They were still kissing and she never wanted it to end. She was discovering so many things about herself. Kissing was her new favorite thing in the world. Better than decoding a secret message.
Or, rather, very similar to deciphering a code, only better. If she moved her handshere, he moaned. If she opened her mouth wider, he took more.
When her hands roamed, exploring the solid contours of his body, he grew even more solid.
A thick ridge ofsolidagainst her belly.
My, what an intoxicating feeling.
She felt beautiful, and powerful. She sensed that he was holding himself in check, refraining from touching her with his hands. He was an honorable gentleman.
She was safe.
Except there was nothing safe about this kiss. This was skirting the edge of something that might swallow her whole. Desire. Distraction.
She’d forgotten why she kissed him. Oh yes. The brandy. She’d kissed him because she drank the brandy. Also to distract him. Oh, and something to do with his brother.
Did there have to be a reason? Because right now all she wanted to do was enjoy her very first kiss, memorize it, own it.
He was so tall that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach his lips, brace her hands on his wide shoulders to stay upright.
She wanted to melt. Make him melt with her. Until they were lying on the storm-tossed floor.
Their lips met. Really met, had a conversation, got to know each other.
