Taming the Prince (Crown and Glory #08) by Elizabeth Bevarly

Author:Elizabeth Bevarly [Bevarly, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Women, General
ISBN: 9781472037879
Google: r0mfAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00HZNTLW8
Publisher: Mills & Boon
Published: 2014-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

Seven

He very much needed to kiss her.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, dear.

Certain she must have misheard, Sara gazed steadily down into Shane’s face in an effort to see if maybe her hearing was going…or if her wits had been completely addled by her ordeal. But she could tell right away from his expression that he had said exactly what she thought he’d said. Even more important, he had meant it.

“You…you…you…” she began. But she couldn’t quite manage to do anything more than repeat that one little word, because her brain seemed to have shut down completely, even as other parts of her body were vaulting to life.

“I need to kiss you, Sara,” he said again, even more loudly, insistently, commandingly and arousingly than before. “I want to kiss you. Lean down here so that I can.”

And somehow, even as she told herself it was a bad idea, Sara did exactly as he asked…insisted…commanded…whatever. Slowly, she bent forward, but she kept her palms flat on the ground, as if that might hold her anchored there—in reality, at safety. But as her face drew nearer to his, Shane reached up and curled his hand lightly over the nape of her neck, encouraging her closer still when she might have hesitated.

Ha, she thought as her mouth hovered over his. As if she would hesitate with something like this….

And then her mouth was on his, or perhaps his mouth was on hers, but really what difference did it make when such a wondrous sensation dashed through her body as a result? Had she felt cold before? she wondered vaguely. How odd. Because suddenly the most languorous warmth was winding throughout her body, from her mouth to her chest to her belly…and then to points beyond.

Shane kissed Sara in a way that she had never been kissed before, at once tentatively and tenaciously, both curiously and confidently. At first he seemed only to want a brief taste of her, because he only brushed his lips lightly across hers, once, twice, three times, before pulling slightly back again. When he broke contact, she opened her eyes, only to find him gazing enigmatically into her own. She felt herself smile, and then, instead of waiting for him to return to her, she dipped her head forward again and pressed her mouth to his.

The sensation that followed was quite exquisite.

The hand on her nape curled tighter, the fingers delving into her hair to weave through the errant strands and push her closer still. The rasp of his beard abraded her mouth, but his lips were soft…so soft and warm and inviting. Unable to help herself, Sara moved her hands from the ground and flattened her palms against his chest, marveling at the supple, solid musculature she felt beneath her fingertips. She had noticed right off how well built he was, thanks, presumably, to his line of work. And a number of times during the flight—and even after—she had felt her gaze wander toward him, to his bare arms and the flagrant biceps straining against the sleeves of his T-shirt.

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