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went through him and then his tongue stroked me back and he pulled me roughly into his chest. My hands locked around the back of his neck and we tangled together, probing and pulling in a rising surge of desire, tasting each other like we couldn’t get enough.
    He didn’t nibble at me or beat around the bush. He devoured my mouth as if he were starving. When he reached down to push me away, I held on to his neck like a leech. Hot hands landed on my bottom, rested and then cupped and squeezed me into his crotch. He was hard and getting harder. The sound in his throat was tortured. Full of lust. He tightened his grip to pull me into his erection and I emitted the same sort of sound.
    My nipples were on fire, throbbing under my bathrobe as I tried to get closer. I wanted to fit my body to his until the sliver of space between us disappeared and all I could feel was James, all I could hear was the pounding of his heart. He covered my breast with his palm, digging in tightly to feel its heaviness through the threadbare cotton. It wasn’t enough for either of us. He yanked my robe open and clamped his hand over my naked breast, grinding into me with his hips.
    I gasped at his thrust and my heart jumped as five kinds of alive touched my bare skin. His fingers were scorching, circling my aching nipple, confident and sure. I’d never felt anything like it. Exhilarating. Excruciating. I bit his bottom lip and he returned the favour.
    It was as if James was consumed by the force of his attraction to me, as if he wanted to absorb me completely, delete the effect I had on him and wipe me out of his system. And I wanted to do the same, sink myself through his every layer and tear out whatever it was that triggered my overwhelming response to him.
    Lost in a current of conflicting emotions, we took it out on each other. I raked my nails across the corded muscles of his neck and drew blood. James’s revenge—the instant, demanding prod of his granite hard-on—heated me to boiling. Everywhere his hands touched my body responded, wanting more. He obliged, his tongue delving deeper, punishing me with his exploration. Tasting every particle of my desire and owning me completely.
    He was no longer fighting his attraction to me; he was branding me his, singeing my skin with his possession.
    << Mine. >>
    My eyes were shut but his thought rippled through me as if he’d spoken out loud. We were connected, mentally and physically wired together. He pulled me upward and hoisted me around his hips, spreading my thighs and fitting my legs around his waist. When my back slammed into the wall I had a moment of clarity, remembering that my parents and Caroline could be home any minute. The thought was fleeting, gone with the next shove of his hips. We were melded together in a desperate, carnal rhythm and I completely forgot they existed.
    All I could think of was James’s rampant sword.
    Hold on a minute, where in the fuck had that come from? All I could think of was his cock pressing into me, damn it. He moaned when I unzipped his trousers and found him, hot and thick and heavy. I whispered my approval against his mouth. I’m not one of these shrinking virgin types like Caroline. I liked his package and I told him so.
    A huge reality check, as it turned out.
    “Shit!” James grabbed my hand and pulled it off him. The supportive hold on my bottom dropped and my knees buckled. I slumped against the wall, dazed, and he jumped back with another hoarse curse. The sudden absence of his body left me feeling bereft. Incomplete. As if I’d given up my favourite drug cold turkey. I wanted to launch myself at him and feel his arms around me once more.
    Oddly, I also wanted to cry.
    Recovering enough to readjust my robe, I glanced at James’s face and read his desire for me. Self-loathing was fast overtaking it though, and I suspected the loathing would be directed at me next. Yes, there it was. I dropped my eyes. What the fuck had I just done? My petty