A Kiss At Midnight. Kate Hardy

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      Gently he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘Would you like me to light the candles again?’ He didn’t want to do that. It would expose his scars, his hang-ups and fears. He was damn sure she wouldn’t stay around once she saw the full horror of how badly scarred his legs were. She would be gone. For the first time in three years he was prepared to take the risk and make love to a woman, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to see his scars.

      ‘No. There’s no need.’ She shook her head slowly and began to relax. He felt her limbs soften and a burst of hot lust shot through him as she leant towards him. His fingers still held her chin and he guided her closer until their lips were almost touching—almost kissing.

      ‘You look like a goddess in this light.’ His husky whisper shuddered from him as he fought to hold his control, wanting to savour this moment. She was so different from all the women who virtually threw themselves at his feet with alarming regularity.

      Tilly needed to be handled with care. She needed him to be gentle and considerate and the idea sent desire hurtling through him. She deserved more than a frantic tumble to satisfy a lust-filled moment but he was past rational thought now.

      He felt her breath on his face, her body against his, and knew she wanted to be loved. She deserved to be, but he couldn’t love her, not in that way. He shouldn’t even be kissing her. But he wanted her, needed her, as if only she could breathe life back into his battered body and tortured soul.

      ‘Right now, I feel like a goddess.’ The gentle purr of her voice pushed his control to the breaking point and he claimed her lips in a hard and demanding kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it as he focused on keeping her where he wanted her, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

      She lifted her head, a ragged gasp rushing from her, and he moved his attentions to the hardened peaks of her nipples, clearly visible through her bra.

      ‘Dio mio, you are beautiful.’ The throaty rasp of his voice almost broke as she took a deep breath in, her breasts moving closer to him, teasing him so much he began to question just who was in control. Her or him?

      Heady lust hurtled through him as he pressed his lips against the creamy swell of one breast, feeling each deep breath she took and the thumping of her heart. His hand cupped the other, his thumb rubbing over her nipple as it strained against the lacy fabric covering it.

      ‘Xavier.’ The husky whisper of his name snapped that last thread of control and he let go of her hair, reached to the fastening of her bra and snapped it open, freeing each delectable breast for his attention.

      Her fingers clutched at his hair as he kissed one nipple, teasing it until she was shuddering with desire, each breath she took as deep and ragged as his. His tongue swirled around it, tasting her.

      ‘Too much,’ she gasped between increasingly shallow breaths.

      ‘Too much?’ He pulled back from her and looked up at her flushed face. ‘Should I stop, cara?’

      ‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ She sighed and looked down at him and he realised he’d nearly pushed her over the edge. It was as if she was discovering the joy of such pleasures for the first time, and had never sampled the delights of passion. ‘No, don’t. This is on my list.’

      He puzzled over the words whispered in a throaty way that left him in no doubt she was losing the battle of resistance. ‘This in on your list?’

      ‘Yes, but don’t stop.’

      Her fingers curled tighter in his hair, pushing him to a new limit, and with gentleness he moved her from him, trying not to acknowledge the pain of having knelt on the floor, and pushed her down against the throw that was spread out over the rug.

      She lay back, her gaze holding his all the time, a hint of a question lingering beneath the sparks of passion.

      ‘We will take it slowly,’ he said as he lowered his head and kissed the flatness of her stomach, his hands holding her waist. He straddled her as he moved upwards, tasting her with each kiss.

      She clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh. He moved higher still and once more kissed her breasts, nipping at the hardened peaks, relishing the gasps of pleasure that escaped those full lips.

      He kissed a trail up her throat until he could once more claim her lips in a hard and demanding kiss. She pulled him down on top of her and wrapped her jeans-clad legs around his. The hardness of his erection strained against the confines of his jeans but he enjoyed the wild and erotic sensation of being partially clothed, of being able to feel her beneath him.

      It was explosive. New and exciting.

      Her hands slid down his back, her fingertips finding the beginnings of the scarring on his right side. He tensed as she paused briefly in her trail of exploration across his back. She hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t asked the dreaded question. How did this happen? He pressed kisses over her face, the side of her neck and against her ears, thankful she hadn’t broken the spell or killed the passion between them.

      He wanted her naked, completely naked. He pushed back from her, kneeling up to unfasten her jeans. Her hair splayed out around her as she watched him, tempting and seducing him with her innocent eyes while lifting her hips to help. He moved back on his knees, pulling the denim and her slipper-like shoes away until she wore only a skimpy pair of black panties.

      He groaned at the need to set himself free of his ever-tightening jeans. Her eyes, darker with each passing second, watched him intently, as if aware of his torture. They goaded him, urged him to remove every last barrier between them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want the battered part of his body to ruin the moment.

      Instead, he turned his attention to giving her the pleasure she craved. He touched the black lace panties with the tip of one finger, moving down over her, the damp fabric arousing his ardour higher and higher.

      She moved against him, testing his control beyond any limits he’d known before. He slipped his finger inside the damp black lace, teasing her heated flesh until she writhed against him. Within seconds she gasped as spasms of pleasure rocked her body. He ceased his teasing and ripped off his jeans and underwear as she lay, eyes closed in pleasure.

      * * *

      Tilly couldn’t stop shaking. She’d lost all control of her body—and it was so good. In a faraway place she knew what it was, knew that for the first time she’d exploded with pleasure, from just a touch. A very expert and practised touch.

      As the waves of passion ebbed over her she closed her eyes, unsure what to do next. She felt Xavier move away, heard the sound of denim dropping to the floor and with stars of ecstasy still in her head she couldn’t do or say anything but tremble with lingering desire.

      Seconds later Xavier was beside her, pulling the other throw over them. He was naked. Completely naked. The heated hardness of his erection pressed against her hip and she couldn’t help the smile of contentment that tugged at her lips.

      He wanted her. Desired her.

      She turned towards him as he pulled her against him, the blackness of his eyes so intense, so full of unquenched desire she knew she was lost. He pressed himself against her, forcing a ragged breath through her lips, which he caught with a kiss so powerful she almost cried out.

      Driven by something new and wild, she pushed against him, СКАЧАТЬ