Page 31 of His Beauty
As much as he wanted to tasteallof her, as much as he wanted to explore her body and make her cry out his name in pleasure, he’d already gone too far and risked too much.
With a groan which almost matched his earlier one, he forced himself to release her and set her away from him.
Her hands were shaking as she lifted both sets of fingertips to her lips. Not in shock, but in…awe? The dazed look in her eyes as she touched herself gently made it seem as if she were marveling at the kiss they’d just shared.
As was he.
Breathing heavily, he stood, holding her upright until he was certain she could stand on her own. Then he smoothed down her skirts, tucked her breasts back into her bodice in as smooth a motion as he could manage under the circumstances, and stepped back, trying to get his heart—and his cock—under control.
“My goodness.”
Mutely, he nodded at her assessment of what they’d just shared.
But apparently, she was speaking of something else. “No wonder you prefer to wear kilts.”
Frowning, he tilted his head and opened his eyes, to see her staring down at the front of his kilt, which was tented ridiculously. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stood in profile.
Cursing softly, he shifted his stance, although that didn’t seem to help. Her attention was still on his cock, and her eyes were now sparkling with wicked contemplation.
“That would not fit so well in trousers, would it?”
He knew he was a large man—large all over—but it wasn’t as if he’d never worn trousers. “I manage, somehow,” he growled.
Her smile bloomed again as she dragged her eyes up to meet his. “That was my first kiss, you know.”
Gruffly, he nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldnae have?—”
“I am not sorry, not at all. It was magnificent.”
It really had been, hadn’t it?
But he was still a gentleman, despite his reputation. “If ye want to leave, since I attacked ye, I’ll arrange?—”
Again, she interrupted him. “Are you mad?” Her smile belied her insult as she darted forward to twine her fingers through his. “After you have given me access to this glorious library? And I cannot leave, not until ye sketch the medieval embroideries for me—I mean, for my book.”
He stared down at her, unable to believe this woman, this glorious lass, was real. “Even the one with the, ye ken…the fellatio?”
Her wink didn’t quite take him by surprise. “Especiallythat one.” And then she was tugging him toward the door. “Come along! We need to fetch your paper and pens!”
Weakly, Lyon followed. He suspected, despite knowing exactly how bad he’d be for her, he’d follow Bonnie Oliphant anywhere.
CHAPTER 7
The morning after Lyon gifted her such joy in the library—and the wonder of his touch, his lips—Lysander returned.
Part of Bonnie was relieved to see him since the dress she’d been wearing all this time would shortly be able to stand up on its own. She’d been changing her chemise and drawers daily, with ones a blushing Keith had delivered to her, but there was only so much to be done with a bowl of water and a towel.
But the rest of her—and it was by far the larger portion—felt like screaming with frustration when Lysander stepped into the cozy little breakfast area with a rueful grin. “I let myself in since ye’re all down here. Are those kippers?” he asked as he seated himself.
Bonnie’s heart sunk into her stomach, and she pushed her plate away, her eyes darting up to meet Lyon’s. There was a look in those hazel depths very much like regret, and she prayed he wasn’t regretting what they’d shared yesterday.
Because that kiss…?
That kiss, which hadn’t been merely a kiss, had been the most magnificent of her life.
Alright, ithadbeen her first kiss, so perhaps that wasn’t saying much, but Bonnie knew, no matter what the rest of her life held, she’d never experience another kiss so profound, so toe-curling, sowonderful, as the one he’d given her last night.
That is unless her next kiss was with him as well.
