A Rogue to Remember by Chasity Bowlin

Author:Chasity Bowlin [Bowlin, Chasity & Publishing, Dragonblade]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2019-06-10T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Unable to resist her and, if truth were told, unwilling to do so, Devil slid his hand over the soft slope of her shoulder until it cradled the nape of her neck. His fingers speared into the mass of her blonde tresses. Hair pins scattered, pinging on the wooden floor as the lush waves fell over her shoulders like the finest gold silk. The firelight caught the various shades of it, highlighting all the subtle variations in hue. With only the slightest pressure of his hand, she moved toward him until he could feel the rush of her breath over his lips. To close that small distance between them, to claim the soft sweet curves of her lips with his own, it was as natural to him as breathing, and possibly as necessary.

By all accounts, it was a chaste kiss. His lips moved over hers, brushing, teasing, mapping every contour and committing it to memory. He was well aware that it might be the last opportunity he would have. Her response, sweet and untutored, was as tempting as the most skilled of courtesans. It evoked a reaction in him unlike anything else he’d ever known. Every part of him was focused on those points of contact between them. The silken skin of her neck beneath his palm, the sensation of her hair tangling about his fingers, the taste of her, the softness and sweetness of her lips—it was intoxicating. And then she leaned into him, and the weight of her against his chest and the crush of her breasts against the hardness of his own flesh prompted him to deepen the kiss.

Gently, he stroked the line of her jaw with his thumb, and with the slightest pressure, prompted her to part her lips. She did so, and he swept his tongue into her mouth, exploring the soft recesses and swallowing the sound of her gasp. She’d been kissed before their encounter the day before, she said, but not really—not by a man who only wished to worship her body and bring her pleasure. Anyone else who had ever touched her thusly had done so with a desire to take.

But even as he plied her soft lips with his own, even as he plundered the sweetness of her, he struggled to hold fast to his control. He had no wish to scare her, to paw at her like some green lad who didn’t know how to pleasure a woman and thought only of himself. And yet her innocent response inflamed him. As debauched as he was, as much as he had thought himself forever burdened by the sense of ennui that plagued him for so long, in that instant he knew himself to be very much mistaken. There was not a part of him that was not consumed by that kiss, that was not affected by it in a profound way. If he’d thought the power of their earlier encounter was an anomaly, he was being proven very wrong. If anything, it seemed that with every kiss, the power of his attraction to her only grew.

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