|
He
kissed her again. He kissed her and reason fled, storming away from
Lela on an unreasoning tide. She wrapped one hand around the back of
his head, holding a hank of his down-soft The lonian hair. Her
traitorous hand twined in it, giving her a momentary illusion that she
had some control over what was happening, but illusion was all it was.
He let his weight
down carefully upon her, chest pressing her breasts, hip against hip,
legs twined with hers so that she felt points of fire along her entire
body. Everywhere he touched her seemed hot, so hot, and his kiss was
wanton and demanding. Men had kissed her that way before and she had
been repulsed. Caius kissed her that way and she moaned low in the back
of her throat and opened her mouth. His erection was heavy and pressed
her belly.
At last he raised his face from hers and
his lips sought the place near the hollow of her shoulder that made her
shudder when he nipped gently and then soothed the bite with his
tongue. Unthinking, she let her hand drift to the back of his neck.
The other was trapped between their bodies in a position where she might
try to push him away, but she knew she wouldn’t.
“Caius, truly, I can’t,” she protested,
and missed his smile in the dark. She had used his name—a very telling
thing.
“You needn’t,” he said. “Just let me
touch you.”
Touch her. It sounded innocent enough…it
was anything but innocent. He shifted slightly—so slightly—and touched
the tip of her breast with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and her
back arched, beyond her control, and he slid an arm behind the small of
her back as quickly as thought and lifted her. Lifted her strongly,
possessively, and without the slightest protest from her. He took her
nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply, and she cried out.
Her breasts ached and throbbed
deliciously—a wonderful torment that couldn’t be soothed. Holding her,
he let his kisses rain down her body, finding every sensitive spot while
she lay helpless in his embrace. Eventually she simply couldn’t
restrain herself any longer and pressed into his kisses, panting in
distress.
“I don’t even like you,” she said
plaintively.
She felt the explosion of his breath
against her skin. He was beside himself with mirth, shaking in her
arms, laughing so hard that a reluctant grin quirked the corners of her
mouth.
“Oh, Lela,” he moaned, pausing in his seduction. “I don’t
think liking has anything to do with this.” |
