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She decided to keep her eyes shut a moment longer. ' He bent forward. She could feel his breath, hot and rapid, flutter against her lips. "Open your eyes, Dev."
She did, blinking slowly. His face was a hair's breadth from hers. She felt the soft strains of his breath against her cheeks.
"Relax your lips," he ordered.
Her pucker faded. Her lips parted, and she wet them expectantly.
"Ah, that's better;" His lips brushed hers and then retreated.
Immediately she tilted her head up. "More please."
He smiled. "You can't control everything, Dev-especially not this. So just relax and enjoy."
He had to be jesting. How could one enjoy anything mindlessly? "But-"
His mouth covered hers in a long, lingering mating of lips that stole her breath. A delicious shiver sped up her spine. Dizziness danced at the edge of her mind.
This kiss was nothing like the others. It was hot and yearning and wrenching, and it made every nerve in Devon's body tingle. A strange sense of restlessness seized her.
He pulled away slowly, and as he did Devon frowned. Darn it, why did he always have to stop just when it was feeling so nice? She lifted up to her toes and tried to kiss him. His fingers closed around her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her at bay.
"Relax, Dev." The words were drawled against her moist, aching-for-more lips.
Relax? When her blood was boiling and her skin was afire? Nothing short of a double dose of laudanum could calm her now. "I don't know if I can. ... I don't know how."
"Let me show you." He made an infinitesimal move and claimed her mouth with his. His tongue slipped past her parted lips and probed her mouth. The dull throbbing in her loins turned into a slow, burning need. A hunger. It spread through her body like a flash fire. Suddenly she felt as if she'd drunk three pints of champagne.
Her response frightened her; it was so overpowering, so
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desperate. The throbbing between her legs was making it difficult to breathe. She was losing control. Oh, God ...
She stiffened. Her hands, still clasped around his body, curled into tight fists.
"Touch me," he whispered throatily.
"I'm afraid."
He pulled her closer, letting her absorb the safety of his embrace. "Don't be."
She wanted to touch him. God, did she. Timidly she let her fingers unfurl slowly, one by one, until they were splayed across his broad back. His body heat seeped through the damp flannel of his shirt, warming her fingers.
Moving cautiously, she explored his body with her hands, feeling the bumps and ridges and valleys of his broad back. The more comfortable she became with the feel of him the more she wanted, and soon her hands were roving freely down his back, across his broad shoulder, around his waist. Her boldness grew, and suddenly she found herself wishing she were rubbing naked skin instead of worn flannel.
His hands fell away from her shoulders and traveled slowly-oh so slowly-to her back. His touch was feather light, almost a tickle. Her body trembled in response.
Without warning his hot fingers cupped the firm wool-clad roundness of her bottom and dragged her closer. She couldn't have protested if she'd wanted to; her body was like wax in his hands. They came together, hard and completely. Their bodies merged, melted together.
Need propelled her and made her suddenly bold. She stroked his hair, reveling in the feel of the coarse strands twined through her fingers. She rubbed up against him. The metal buttons on his shirt abraded her breasts.
She gasped at the feel of the buttons against her nipples. The taut crests hardened instantly, straining against the wool of her bodice. Drawn by some dark, instinctive need, she rubbed up against the buttons again.
Stone Man groaned, clutching her tighter. "Kiss me," he said in a raspy voice.
Good God, she thought she was. It took her a moment to realize what he was asking of her, but when she did she complied gladly. Her tongue sneaked forward, brushing the
