onto her lips. “Touch your tongue to mine.”
Her belly clenched at his command. She complied, and his lips came over hers again, his open mouth hot and devouring, his tongue stroking hers again, coaxing a response.
She moved, tentative, uncertain, licking at his tongue once, twice.
He growled low in his throat with approval.
The sound emboldened her and she opened her mouth wider, copying the parries and thrusts of his tongue.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice a rough rasp on her lips.
She rose on her tiptoes and pressed herself even closer. His fingers delved into her hair, loosening the knot and sending more tendrils falling around her face, tickling her cheeks and jaw.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, tightening her grip as their kiss grew more intense. She moaned, pleasure eddying through her, pooling low in her belly and creating a tormenting ache.
He dragged a hand down the slick column of her throat, the rough pads of his fingers an erotic rasp against her wet flesh. His fingers clutched the edge of her bodice before delving in, the back of his fingers sliding deeply beneath the fabric, grazing the swell of her breast. Her heart constricted at the sensation of his fingers on her breast, edging a nipple.
Heat zinged through her from that sole contact, spreading to both breasts, tightening them until they almost hurt, throbbing for his touch.
She moaned and slid her arms around his neck, arching into his hand, yearning for more . . .
He answered her unspoken request. His mouth left hers and trailed down her throat. Each wet, open-mouthed kiss made her gasp and whimper, wiggle and writhe against him.
His hand tightened on both the corset and bodice of her gown, tugging them lower, as much as he could without ripping the fabric. Her breasts rose up, pushing free, the twin mounds exposed to the air, only a lacy chemise shielding them. Her skin puckered to gooseflesh in the cold. The chemise afforded little protection. He pulled loose the ribbon and then shoved the flimsy material aside. Her exposed nipples pinched and tightened in the frigid air.
She inhaled sharply, watching him cautiously, biting her lip in agony at the intense way he scrutinized her. His piercing gaze heightened everything inside her. The clench of her stomach muscles, the pull of her skin, the heavy ache of her breasts.
His hand glided over the sensitive mounds, warm palms brushing her nipples, back and forth, back and forth, sending the already hard tips into painfully tender peaks.
He lowered his head, watching her face as he did so, his sea-colored eyes gleaming with something akin to satisfaction—and something else she’d never seen before. Not directed at her at any rate. Desire .
Owen had never looked at her in such a way, which only seemed to confirm that he didn’t feel for her what a man ought to feel for a woman he intended to marry. Perhaps it was not just her experiencing these doubts. Perhaps he did, as well.
A great sense of freedom seized her then, and at that exact moment Jamie’s mouth closed over her. She cried out, arching into him as sucking, wet warmth enveloped her nipple. Her fingers dove into his damp hair, threading through the dark strands and clutching him close as his teeth grazed her. Her eyes widened, astonished at the splendid torment of his mouth.
“Oh,” she said with a sigh, her eyes drifting shut.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded.
She obeyed, glancing down at him gazing up at her. He looked positively seductive, his eyes hooded, inviting and knowing beneath dark lashes. Never removing his mouth from her, he played with the tip of her breast, his tongue stroking and tasting her.
She knew she should run. Should condemn him as wretched and amoral, but it was everything she had longed for without ever experiencing it previously. She’d longed for this. It was so much more, felt so much better than anything she had dreamed . . . Her imagination hadn’t even touched on