Her fingers threaded through the inky curls at his nape. He shuddered under her touch. And with that small tell, proof that he was as affected as she was, a daring swept through her, burning down the woman she had been into someone new, someone bold and assertive.
Someone who was brave enough to grasp joy and hold on tight.
She raised her chin, looking him full in the eye. “Kiss me.”
His eyes flared wide, shock and desire and something deep and earth-shattering filling his features. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her answer; she had never been more sure of anything in her life.
Still he waited, this honorable man who would protect her even from herself. So she did the only thing she could: she rose up on her toes, pulled his head down, and captured his lips with her own.
An inferno. That was the only way to describe the sensations that incinerated her in their brilliance. Her heart pounded out a fierce beat, and she let her defenses topple. No hard thing; he’d been slowly eroding their foundation for weeks now. But running over the sand, the wind tugging strands of her hair free, her skirts snapping about her legs—and Quincy, close behind her, their laughter joining in the air—made her realize she didn’t want to go back to who she had been. She wanted this. She wanted him.
He groaned, his hands crushing the delicate muslin of her gown, the muscles in his arm bunching as he pulled her flush to him. When his mouth opened, hot and urgent over her own, she was ready, welcoming his tongue as it twined with hers, reveling in the taste of him.
Her hands moved frantically over him, each play of muscle under the soft wool of his jacket driving her nearly insensible. He pressed her against the smooth cave wall, his lean body hard against her soft curves, his arousal pressing into her belly. And still it wasn’t enough. She wanted more of this, more ofhim, until she didn’t know where one of them began and the other ended.
As if she had spoken the need aloud, his hand slid to her leg, hiking it up over his hip as he pressed into the core of her. Bright lights burst behind her tightly closed lids. She tore her mouth free, her head falling back against the stone wall, a low moan escaping her lips.
“My God, you’re glorious,” he rasped as his mouth moved to her jaw, down the length of her neck. His lips were firm yet achingly soft, the faint stubble of his beard a heady contrast. Nothing could feel better than this, surely.
That foolish thought was decimated the moment he gently cupped her breast.
She gasped, arching up, offering more. Begging for more. He growled, the sound vibrating across the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. When his thumb dragged over her straining nipple, the layers of her clothing no barrier to the exquisite torture, she thought she might scream. He cradled her in his palm, the warmth and intimacy making her mindless with want.
Suddenly his hand was gone. She nearly cried out her frustration, until he shifted her in his embrace, hiking her other leg over his hip, his arms strong under her as he held her away from the stone wall. For a single moment she was suspended in the air, unmoored, drifting. And then she settled against him, her port in the storm. “Quincy.”
His name on her lips, hoarse and breathless, rebounded against the close walls of the cave, mingling with their ragged breaths, the gentle hush of the sea, the faint cry of seabirds. His kisses grew more frantic, teeth and tongue coming into play, trailing over her shoulder, her collarbone, brushing against the bodice of her gown.
Tightening her legs around his hips, she rocked against him, the bulk of her skirts and chemise doing nothing to hide the power and strength of him straining against her. His groan mingled with her gasp, his fingers tightening on her bottom, pressing her more firmly against the hard length of him.
“Please,” she whispered, every inch of her aching for more. “Please, Quincy. I want—” Her throat closed off, unable to give voice to the clamoring inside her.
“What do you want, Clara,” he rasped, rocking against her, making her gasp. “Tell me.”
She shuddered. “I—I want—”
But her mind went blank. She struggled to give voice to the overwhelming chaos within her. What did she want, exactly? To feel his bare skin against hers, to have him inside her?
Oh, yes. All that and more. But a small, quiet question infiltrated those passion-glazed fantasies:What then?
She froze. What then, indeed. Hadn’t she already been down this road and suffered the consequences?
But Quincy is not like him, her desperate heart tried to reason. Which only made her head, which had been in control for more than half her life, dig in its heels more.That’s what you thought before, it chided.And look where it got you.
Ah, God, what had she done?
Dragging in an unsteady breath, she managed in a small voice, “I’d like to be let down now, please.”
A shock seemed to go through him, seizing his muscles. But he quickly recovered, lowering her with infinite care to the cave floor. He stayed close to her, his strong hands rubbing her arms. She kept her gaze on his rumpled cravat, unable to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage as I did.”
“There’s no reason to apologize,” she whispered. “I was the one who asked for the kiss.”
“Yet it became so much more than a kiss.” He sighed, cupping her cheek, his thumb rubbing across her temple. She just kept herself from closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. If she did, she would be gone. There was nothing she wanted more than to lose herself in his arms again.
His deep voice rumbled through her. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”