Page 39 of Wake Me Most Wickedly
“Kind, then,” she amended. Because that was all he could be to her. A kind man who had offered her the facsimile of connection, showing her respect and lust and dare she say, admiration.
Sol bent down and kissed her forehead with an aching tenderness before pulling back and gazing into her eyes. His lip curled in that handsome, knowing sideways grin that she was beginning not only to crave, but to adore. “Kind is not how I feel towards you.”
“How do you feel?” she asked, a delicious tightening happening in her core.
“Hungry,” he said, clutching her closer. “Very hungry.”
“Hungry I can handle,” she quipped before taking a deep breath, working to be as brave as he believed her to be. She wet her lip. “Because I’m hungry too.” And it was her turn to show him.
Grabbing ahold of his unbuttoned shirt and pulling him toward her, she opened for him again, reveling inhis taste as his tongue joined with hers, firm and bold, with so much promise.
“What do you want?” he whispered as he moved to her ear once more, his kisses much more frantic than languid this time. Her knees near knocked together as he clutched her to him. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything.”
A thousand secret wishes and desires, ones she could never, ever speak, rushed just below the surface, but Hannah shook them back. This was only for tonight. Once again, she’d live in the moment for as long as she could. No expectations, no regrets. If she said that to herself enough times, she might finally believe it. She reached up and ran her hand over his brow.
“Make me come,” she told him, gazing into his eyes. “Make me come so I no longer remember my own name, only yours.”
It was his turn to blink. And this time, fully smile.
“With pleasure,” he said. “I may have less practical experience, but I am very willing to learn.”
Before she could ask how he wanted to accomplish that, her cloak was somehow on the floor and her gown undone. She glanced up at him and to the pile, and back again. “How did you do that?”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said with that charming smugness that turned her to liquid. “Silver tongue and fingers.”
She gave him a long look.
“I promise I can make you shiver with either.” The smile turned wolfish. “Your choice.”
Oy, she was in trouble. She should flee because while the wolf was the last thing she needed, god help her, it was the creature she craved.
“Those are quite the bold words,” she managed.
“They’re a promise,” he said with a defiant tip of his head.
“Then by all means, show me.” And before her courage could leave her, she slid her chemise over her head so she was naked before him. Swallowing, she willed herself to not cover herself. After all, if he truly wanted her, this—marked skin, round stomach, sagging breasts—was who she was, and she couldn’t change no matter how much she’d wished to over the years.
Sol only blinked, his eyes hot, near wild, stirring the same in her.
“On the bed,” he growled.
“Like this, I presume?” She lay back on the pillows, working not to think about what she actually looked like, but instead the way he looked at her. At the foot of the bed, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt then slid it off his wide shoulders, muscles that a man of his wealth should not need, before he dropped it on the floor.
All she could do was gaze at him. And marvel.
Sol most certainly had a handsome face—she’d noted that the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Not just his full, expressive lips and twinkling brown eyes, but his bold, determined jaw and graceful brow. However, it was nothing compared to seeing all of him, nude, in the firelight. He didn’t flinch as he stood before her, a hunger in his eyes as intense as her own.
Carefully, he slipped onto the bed next to her, gazing downward. “You’re sure of this?” he asked.
“Very.” She nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Very,” he repeated. He shifted and, his mouth was on hers. He tasted of wine and lust and somethingsweet, but tart, almost like apples. She rocked up on her elbows to meet him, already greedy for his mouth, his tongue, his hands, his everything.
“While again, I may not be the expert here, I think you’re supposed to relax. Let me do the work” He nudged her back into the bed then began to trace his lips down her body. She writhed under him as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, and lower, pressing herself into his touch.
“You like that?” he asked, a definite smugness in his voice. He moved back up and toyed with her ear, eliciting another moan.
“Yes,” she managed to breathe as her back arched of its own accord. His lips against her skin were everything.
