Stealing Lord Stephen (Lost Lords, Book 3) by Cassandra Dean

Author:Cassandra Dean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance, regency, regency romance, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, australian author, lost lords, a romantic bet, romantic wager
Publisher: Cassandra Dean

Chapter Thirteen

STRONG ARMS BRACKETED HER as soft lips moulded to the demands of her own. Tangling her fingers in his soft hair, Sera pulled Stephen closer, his hard chest scraping the tips of her aching breasts. At his groan, a thread of triumph twined through the thrill of pleasure, but he stayed motionless against her, the faintest sliver of air between them as he held himself from her. She wanted more. She wanted to drive him wild. She wanted him to break. She wanted to feel the force of his passion, for him to grab her and take her and show her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She licked at his upper lip.

He stiffened, lurching fiercely into her a moment but he restrained himself, holding from her so they were only joined by her hands in his hair and her mouth on his. Sweet, gentle, and a tease. She made a sound a back of her throat, and she felt the shape of his wicked smile against her mouth. He knew she wanted more, and she knew he was keeping it from her.

Well. She couldn’t have that.

She slid her fingers over his scalp, his neck, tracing his shoulders as she brushed her lips over his again and again. He grunted, but he didn’t break, his breath sweet against her tongue as she traced the seam of his lips, the corners of his mouth. Her heart throbbed within her, and the determination to make him lose himself. Curling her hands around his forearms, she pressed herself against him and licked his lips.

With that, she broke him.

He hadn’t moved, but somehow he had wrest control, his mouth open against hers and his tongue demanding. She moaned as he stole into her mouth, and she pressed herself closer, her breasts flattening against the lean muscles of his chest.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip slowly and he murmured, “You shouldn’t tempt me.”

A thrill raced through her. “Nor should you tempt me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Are we playing that game?”

She hadn’t thought of it as such. This was…real to her. Breath caught in her chest, she whispered, “Is this a game, Stephen?”

His smile faded as his gaze searched hers. Then he said softly, “No.”

A sigh escaped her, and she closed her eyes as his fingers traced the lines of his face: the sweep of her brow, the curve of her cheek, the shape of her jaw. A gentle tug and he removed the mask, his hand trailing down her neck to flatten over the exposed flesh above her bodice, warm and heavy. Her breath came faster, and faster still, and she met his gaze, his eyes burning into hers.

Straightening, he lifted her, seating her on the edge of the billiard table. He slid his hands up her calves, dragging her skirts with them. Gaze holding hers, he moved between her legs, his hips pushing her wider as he trailed his fingers over the outside of her thighs.

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