Lady Gone Bad by Starr Sabine

Author:Starr, Sabine [Starr, Sabine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2012-08-27T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Rafe kissed Lady, slow and tender at first but gathering steam as banked embers caught fire and blazed. He relished the feel of her soft, plump mouth as he nibbled and licked from one delectable corner to the other.

She’d made him needy like no other woman. Now she deserved to feel some of his frustration.

He combed long fingers through her hair, gliding over a sensual layer of slick mud, imagining himself sliding over, under, and into her, creating enough friction to set both her and the pool of water on fire.

When she moaned, he caught the sound on his tongue, thrusting between her lips, tasting sweet and tart, feeling smooth and firm, driving deep, filling her, dancing with her tongue, realizing she was responding to him. That knowledge sent a wave of heat through him that made him so hard he hurt. He couldn’t get enough of her, quick enough.

He gently laid her back onto the soft bank and stroked her breasts through fabric clinging like a second skin. When he slid a hand over her heart, he felt the wild pounding echo the tempo of his own. Fingers slipping and sliding as he massaged in circles, he felt her nipples harden to taut peaks.

“I want to thank you everywhere,” he said, voice low and husky. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

She spoke no words, only her eyes like polished agates talking urgently to him. She slowly raised her blouse in a smooth, graceful motion, exposing full, round breasts with rosy tips straining against a white chemise turned translucent by a thin, wet layer of mud.

Rafe hesitated as he savored the fact that Lady Gone Bad belonged to him alone. At the Red River Saloon, he couldn’t have imagined this moment, but now that it had come, he couldn’t imagine anything else. He gazed down at her. She wore no corset, needing nothing to enhance her natural tantalizing shape. She wore no jewelry, needing nothing to add to her beauty. She wore no face paint, needing nothing to emphasize the perfection of her appearance.

If a woman had ever been made to be worshipped by men, she had to be the one. He was ready to worship her in the only way he knew how, body to body.

In the light of the moon, she looked all satin and silver. She regarded him steadily, no words necessary.

Transferring her wrists to one hand, he used the other to push up her chemise so her breasts were completely exposed to him. He splashed warm water over them, sensitizing her as the mud slid away. He took his time savoring what he had wanted the first moment he saw her on stage, tormenting every man in the saloon. Only now he tormented her, setting mouth to nipple, sensitizing with teeth and mustache, while he kneaded the other breast with his free hand.

She whimpered, a sound caught between pain and pleasure, made musical by the quality of her voice. She reached out and

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