Page 31 of Charlotte's Kisses

Threading her fingers through his hair, she met his kiss with an embarrassing amount of pressure and enthusiasm. She also took advantage of his moan to curl her tongue around his and suck. Tart cherries and sweet vanilla overshadowed the taste of apples.

“Oh,” she moaned, her mouth full of Hugh.

Perchance she did like brandy, especially when she licked it from his lips and suckled it from his tongue? What if his entire mouth was delicious?

She gently nibbled on his lower lip.

Oh, yes. She loved the taste of brandy. She wanted to bathe in it. Drown in it…

Drown in Hugh.

His hard length pressed into her hip as he deepened their kiss. Would he think her a strumpet if she brushed her hand overit? The book had calleditacock.What if she were to cradlehis cock? Would it still be indecentif he remained under a layer of fabric?

Most definitely. But she no longer cared.

Unable to control her desire, she ran her hand over his shoulder, down his arm, to his thigh. His muscle contracted beneath her palm.

What did all that sinewy leg muscle look like, void of fabric? Did he resemble an Adonis in the scandalous book? Shivering, she made the boldest move of her life and pressed her palm against his crotch. Hard as granite. Hopefully, it would nothurt if she grabbed him because her curiosity needed to be sated, so she gently squeezed.

Goodness gracious, he was brick-hard.

“Fuck,” Hugh moaned through their kisses.

His hands became more needy, almost desperate, as he grasped at the back of her dress. He made quick work of her tiny buttons. Her dress slid off her shoulders and tumbled past her waist to pool around her ankles. Moments later, her stays lay atop the frock.

Cool air kissed her skin, and she shivered—but only briefly because Hugh enveloped her in his warmth. He swept an arm under her legs, lifted her off her feet, and cradled her in his arms. Even injured, he was strong. Feeling like a treasured fairy princess, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her tongue with his as he carried her across the room.

He gently lowered her to the bed. She aggressively tugged on him until he lay on top of her. Apparently, she would rather ravage him than protect him.

Wait. That was not true. She would pull herself together and find her father. Just five more seconds of kissing, and then she would leave.

Make that ten more seconds.

To Beelzebub with that. Twenty seconds. She could do it.

And maybe she would have if he had not nuzzled her ear. “You, my Firefly, will be the death of me.”

So be it, because his gravelly voice was her complete undoing.

She writhed and moaned beneath him as he peppered kisses over her shoulder. Every inch of her wanted his attention, in particular her tingling nipples. On page fifteen of the sensual book, there was an illustration of a woman sitting tall, straddling a man as he held a breast in each hand. Surely, onecould accomplish the same thing when a woman lay on her back.

She guided his hands to her breasts.

He smiled against her cheek as he kneaded the flesh surrounding her areola.

Fighting to catch her breath, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he traced gentle figure eights around her breasts. “They are so beautiful.”

Please touch my nipples,she silently willed him.

Her mind reader lowered his head and licked first one peak, then the other. Pulling a mouthful of her flesh into his mouth, he suckled. Overtaken by bliss, she clasped the back of his neck and held his head in place. If only she could hold him prisoner and force him to lavish her breasts with affection forever.

Bucking and moaning beneath him, she encouraged him with pleas of “Yes” and “Oh, Hugh.”

While nibbling on a stiff peak, his fingers skimmed up her inner thigh, blazing a trail of scorching heat. She willed him higher. Mind reader that he was, he stroked the length of her sex as her feminine juices dripped onto the sheets. Her mind and body warred. She should stop him, but she was too intoxicated with pleasure to do anything but moan guttural sounds.

A pleasant tickle skittered across her pelvis as he played with her feminine curls. If only he would slide a part of himself inside her. It mattered not what part. She simply needed her empty ache to subside before she withered away to nothingness.