Read A Compromised Innocent for Free Online
Authors: Elaine Golden
to steal another kiss from you, Lizzie.â
âYou cannot steal whatâs given freely,â she said, her voice a shaky whisper. Yes! Yes, yes, yes!
A tremor shook her as his lips enfolded her earlobe, drawing on the tender flesh there. Eliciting an echo of sensation in her stomach.
No, lower. That twinge of excitement was definitely lower. She squeezed her legs together, a desperate attempt to stifle the feeling as Oliver shifted closer, his mouth a fiery brand migrating down her neck. A laugh that sounded suspiciously like a hiccup escaped her. âI thought you wanted a kiss?â
He pulled away and said, âI do. I want to kiss you everywhere, starling.â
Starling. It was the second time heâd called her that, the sound of it almost an endearment. Almost⦠darling.
âThen what are you waiting for?â
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, then his lips were on hers, hot and demanding. Lizzie trembled and tilted her head to give him better access, then moved in to slip an arm around his neck, as if she could hold him there.
Yes! Yes, yes, yes!
It was everything that she remembered and more. Like before, her pulse thundered as if sheâd competed in a foot race at the midsummer fair. And when he licked at her lips, she felt daring enough to return the gesture and discovered he tasted as mysterious and complex as the finest Chinese oolong. Oliver murmured something unintelligible in response to her foray, and his hands dug into her waist as if he wanted to pull her to him but had locked his arms against it.
This was hunger, a desperate need for more. Unable to stop herself, she nipped at his lips with her teeth once then paused, shocked by her actions and a little frightened about where the impulse had come from. What must Oliver think of her?
A moment later she found out as something like a growl of approval came from him, beginning as a low sound and then rising with the tension in his muscles. Then he pulled her, up and over, settling back into the leather squabs of the bench seat and shifting until she faced him, scandalously straddling his thighs. It might have been uncomfortable if the coach was moving atany amount of speed, but it continued to creep along, the drone of rainfall isolating them, insulating them from the outside world.
Had Oliver tried to use his size to overwhelm her, she might have balked. He was certainly large enough to intimidate or persuade her to his will. But in this position, Lizzie felt like she had complete control of thisâ¦of him. That she could stop or continue as she chose, though his eyes glittered with encouragement.
It was perhaps the single most exciting moment of her life, to have such influence over a man. Not just any man. This man with his self-assurance, fine figure and that boyish lock that insisted on defying his valetâs combing and tumbled over his brow.
Her heart squeezed. She could fall in love with him, she realized.
Perhaps she already was.
He reached up and urged her toward him, his bare palm warm against her cheek. Oliver had removed his glove at some point, and Lizzie wanted to do the same, to feel the texture of his skin on her own fingertips, the roughness that shadowed his jaw.
She pulled away slightly, and he let her, though he didnât look pleased about it if the frown between his eyebrows was any indication.
Something brazen stole over her as she watched him watching her, despite the awkwardness of her perch across his lap. She brought her hand up and began to tug the glove off with her teeth, one finger at a time. Oliverâs eyes followed, and he swallowed hard.
He liked watching her lips? Or anticipated her bare touch?
The first glove pulled free and she let if fall, careless of where it landed. Then she removed the other, but slower to gauge his interest. His breathing roughened and, when she was done, she burrowed her hands into his hair, relishing the silky texture. He rubbed his thumb across her
âYou cannot steal whatâs given freely,â she said, her voice a shaky whisper. Yes! Yes, yes, yes!
A tremor shook her as his lips enfolded her earlobe, drawing on the tender flesh there. Eliciting an echo of sensation in her stomach.
No, lower. That twinge of excitement was definitely lower. She squeezed her legs together, a desperate attempt to stifle the feeling as Oliver shifted closer, his mouth a fiery brand migrating down her neck. A laugh that sounded suspiciously like a hiccup escaped her. âI thought you wanted a kiss?â
He pulled away and said, âI do. I want to kiss you everywhere, starling.â
Starling. It was the second time heâd called her that, the sound of it almost an endearment. Almost⦠darling.
âThen what are you waiting for?â
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, then his lips were on hers, hot and demanding. Lizzie trembled and tilted her head to give him better access, then moved in to slip an arm around his neck, as if she could hold him there.
Yes! Yes, yes, yes!
It was everything that she remembered and more. Like before, her pulse thundered as if sheâd competed in a foot race at the midsummer fair. And when he licked at her lips, she felt daring enough to return the gesture and discovered he tasted as mysterious and complex as the finest Chinese oolong. Oliver murmured something unintelligible in response to her foray, and his hands dug into her waist as if he wanted to pull her to him but had locked his arms against it.
This was hunger, a desperate need for more. Unable to stop herself, she nipped at his lips with her teeth once then paused, shocked by her actions and a little frightened about where the impulse had come from. What must Oliver think of her?
A moment later she found out as something like a growl of approval came from him, beginning as a low sound and then rising with the tension in his muscles. Then he pulled her, up and over, settling back into the leather squabs of the bench seat and shifting until she faced him, scandalously straddling his thighs. It might have been uncomfortable if the coach was moving atany amount of speed, but it continued to creep along, the drone of rainfall isolating them, insulating them from the outside world.
Had Oliver tried to use his size to overwhelm her, she might have balked. He was certainly large enough to intimidate or persuade her to his will. But in this position, Lizzie felt like she had complete control of thisâ¦of him. That she could stop or continue as she chose, though his eyes glittered with encouragement.
It was perhaps the single most exciting moment of her life, to have such influence over a man. Not just any man. This man with his self-assurance, fine figure and that boyish lock that insisted on defying his valetâs combing and tumbled over his brow.
Her heart squeezed. She could fall in love with him, she realized.
Perhaps she already was.
He reached up and urged her toward him, his bare palm warm against her cheek. Oliver had removed his glove at some point, and Lizzie wanted to do the same, to feel the texture of his skin on her own fingertips, the roughness that shadowed his jaw.
She pulled away slightly, and he let her, though he didnât look pleased about it if the frown between his eyebrows was any indication.
Something brazen stole over her as she watched him watching her, despite the awkwardness of her perch across his lap. She brought her hand up and began to tug the glove off with her teeth, one finger at a time. Oliverâs eyes followed, and he swallowed hard.
He liked watching her lips? Or anticipated her bare touch?
The first glove pulled free and she let if fall, careless of where it landed. Then she removed the other, but slower to gauge his interest. His breathing roughened and, when she was done, she burrowed her hands into his hair, relishing the silky texture. He rubbed his thumb across her