AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Does she think I've forgotten? No chance I'd ever forget even one tiny thing about her. I smirk. "Aye, but I thought to check your whole foot to be sure. All right?"
"Okay."
Keeping my hand on her sole, rubbing with measured strokes, I place my other palm on her heel and glide it up to her ankle, shamelessly fondling her flesh, which I mean to do until she tells me to stop. Doesnae seem likely she will. Her cheeks have acquired a faint blush, and she rubs her lips together over and over as her breath hitches and her body tenses.
"Oh…" she says, then seems to lose her train of thought while I explore every contour of her ankle and foot.
Suddenly, it occurs to me that her expression might not signal mounting desire, but instead, indicate pain. I freeze with my hands on her skin. "Is this uncomfortable?"
"No."
Ah, so it is desire after all. Calli wouldn't lie. Maybe I've known her for less than an hour, but I can tell she's an honest lass.
"I've been looking for a woman like you," I say, not even trying to keep my lust from coloring my voice. "A woman with substance and heart and sensuality."
"You don't know me. Maybe I'm obsessed with my looks and never pick up a book, except to prop open my bedroom door for the long line of men waiting for their turn."
I chuckle while I return to massaging the sole of her foot. "You aren't like that. I can tell."
"Exactly how can you identify my character traits after a few minutes in my presence?"
"The way you talk is one clue." I slide my hand from her sole to the top of her foot, gliding my fingers up her skin from her toes to her ankle and down again while, with my other hand, I keep massaging her ankle with lazy strokes. "The way you carry yourself is another clue. You're a real woman, not a silly girl."
And with every minute that ticks by while I'm in her presence, I become even more convinced that she's the one for me.
I release her foot, moving it off my lap, and notice out of the corner of my eye that she's slipping her foot back into her high-heeled shoe. I edge closer until my bare knees brush against hers.Bod an Donais, I love to feel her skin against mine. Her foot has fallen back to the floor, and my kilt grazes her thigh. I brace one hand on the sofa behind her head, then settle the other on her thigh. Our faces hover inches apart, and I swear I can taste her breaths as they tease my skin.
Leaning in close, I whisper into her ear. "I want to kiss you."
She stops blinking. Stops breathing too, I think. Our gazes are bound by an invisible thread, a connection I've felt since the moment I first saw her. She might think I'm off my head if I tell her that, so I'll keep it to myself for now. The last thing I want to do is scare her away. I drag my tongue across my lower lip while I imagine it's her skin I'm tasting, and my eyes drift half-closed. What will she taste like? I burn to know the answer—right now.
I slant my head closer, my gaze locked on her mouth.
Though I desperately need to kiss her, I pause with my lips millimeters from hers and let myself enjoy the sensation of her breaths whispering over my skin. I roll my gaze up to meet hers, certain mine is rife with a hunger only she can satisfy. Maybe I love to flirt with the lasses, and kiss the lasses, but I've never needed to taste a woman as much as I need to taste Calli.
I cradle her nape with my palm and tilt her head back a touch, enough to bring her mouth within kissing distance of mine and expose the tender flesh of her throat. I press my lips to hers, keeping the touch soft and sweet, brushing my mouth back and forth.
Calli's lips part on a delicate gasp.
I withdraw a few inches. "May I kiss you?"
"Yes," she whispers.
That's all I need to hear. I claim her mouth in a ravenous crush of lips against lips, loving the way she dissolves into me with a soft wee whimper. I clasp her nape more firmly as I flick my tongue out to explore the seam of her lips. She tastes even better than I'd imagined, though I could never describe her flavor. Donnae need to. Experiencing her is enough for me, and words are unnecessary.
She grasps my shirt, her fingers crooking into the fabric, and opens her mouth to me like she's begging for a deeper kiss.
Well, I never turn down an invitation from a sexy lass.
At the instant I thrust my tongue into her mouth, I lash my free arm around her waist to bind her supple, sensual body to mine. She swings one leg over me to straddle my lap and clings to my shirt, her breasts mounded against me while she surrenders to the demands of my tongue and lips, her body plastered to my chest. She coils her tongue around mine. Christ, I love her passion. And I love this kiss. I want it to go on forever, and longer even, until after the universe collapses in on itself and a new one explodes into existence.
When did I become a poet? It's barmy rubbish.
Calli moans as I slide my hand down from her nape and trace a path along the bare skin of her back, following the curvature of her spine until I feel the edge of her dress, just above her erse. She arches into me while we ravage each other's mouths with increasingly frantic lashes of our tongues.
I groan low in my throat.
She rips her mouth away from mine and scrambles off my lap, banging her hip on the table as she flounders to get out of the booth. Tripping over her own feet, she grabs for the purple curtain to stay her fall.
