Scandalous Weddings by Brenda Joyce

Author:Brenda Joyce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2011-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

He should know better. He did know better. But that did not alter Harrison’s behavior one whit.

As he pulled Jinx nearer, he consoled himself with the knowledge that he would stop if she protested. But she didn’t protest, as he’d known she would not. If she were waiting for him to stop this mad, spiraling desire between them, her trust was sorely misplaced.

So he pulled her nearer, until their breath mingled. Until her thighs brushed his, and the press of her breasts burned his chest. Her eyes, so vividly blue, remained locked with his, as innocent and sultry as a schoolgirl courtesan’s. Worldly he might be, but he flung himself headlong into the dangerously deep emotional waters of those eyes. He lowered his head and captured her mouth, and vowed then and there not to give her time to change her mind.

She tasted like no other woman, he dimly realized as he pressed her boldly to him. Nor did she respond like other women, for there was no coyness in her, not an iota. She was who she was, sweet and feisty, strong and innocent. He kissed her, devouring her mouth, invading her with his tongue, and drawing her tongue into his mouth for the heated dance of lovemaking. He would have this woman now.

But what of later?

He hesitated and raised his head. She began to kiss his chin, his neck, and his Adam’s apple, however, and the last shreds of logic fled his brain. With one swift motion he lifted her into his arms, while she held his face with her hands and kissed him without ceasing. He lowered her to the bed and lowered himself over her, and still the kiss went on and on. Down the hall a clock began to chime. Up close he was enveloped in the unique scent that perfumed her. Sweet, earthy. Fresh as rain, wild as the forest.

“I will not let you go,” he growled.

“You need not.”

“You drive me mad with wanting you.”

“’Tis I who must be mad,” she murmured, nibbling the words against his mouth, then nipping his lower lip for emphasis.

He covered her breast with one hand and swallowed her little gasp with a hungry kiss. After that there was little room for speech. His clothing and hers were stripped away, sometimes a frantic struggle, other times a torturous peeling away. He found the mysterious bells around her ankle and, in the process, kissed every bit of skin she revealed, every sweet, supple inch of her, from her pink toes, to her luscious mouth, from the anklet of bells that made her every movement musical, to the masses of fiery hair that drew him like a beacon.

Her little cries and artless moans urged him on. Creamy thighs, sweet belly. He traced a circle around her navel with his tongue, then slid farther up her lithe torso, anointing each rib. He lay between her legs, braced on his elbows. Before him her breasts were exposed to his gaze, lovely pale flesh crested with taut, rosy buds that attested to her arousal.

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