Never Forget Me by Marguerite Kaye Read Free Book Online Page A

she said.
    He shook his head. ‘Certainly not. That would be most ungentlemanly.’
    ‘I already told you that I feel most unladylike. Please tell me, Geraint. I know we cannot, but I would like to know what it would be like if we could.’
    She was smiling, one of those smiles that did strange things to his guts, and he thought he had never found any woman more irresistible. In the throes of passion, he had been able to ask—Do you like this? Do you want this? Harder? Slower? Faster?—but he had never before articulated his own desires. I want to know what it would be like if we could . He pulled Flora closer to him out of the wind, resting his chin on the silky mass of her hair. ‘The reality could never match my imaginings,’ he said, willing himself to believe it.
    ‘I would still like to know.’
    She had slipped her arms under his greatcoat, wrapping them around his waist. Geraint closed his eyes, drinking in the scent of her perfume, her soap, the fresh Highland air and the intangible something else that made the heady mixture uniquely Flora. ‘When we kiss,’ he whispered, ‘I feel like I am diving into a deep, dark pool. And the more we kiss the deeper I want to dive.’ His fingers found the warm, delicate skin at the nape of her neck. ‘I want to touch you. All of you. I want to taste you, every part of you.’
    Flora shuddered. He pulled her closer so that she lay half over him, her leg between his. ‘I want to kiss your mouth,’ he said, unable to stop himself doing just that. ‘I want to kiss your breasts.’ He undid her coat, cupping her through the soft wool of her dress. She rolled onto her back. He covered her with his body. ‘I want to kiss your breasts until you can’t take any more,’ he said, his voice ragged, his thumbs stroking her nipples.
    Flora arched under him, her eyes glazing over. ‘What else, Geraint? What else would you do?’
    He was already hard. ‘I would kiss your belly.’ He flattened his palm, sliding it over her. ‘I would kiss the inside of your thighs. Soft, your skin would be. So soft and so warm. When I kiss you there, I can feel you want me, feel it here,’ he said, pressing down on the taut muscles of her stomach, then farther down. ‘I want you every bit as much, but I don’t want it to be over too soon, so I touch you. Here.’ Flat palm gliding over her sex. Flora’s hands on him, clutching at his tunic. Her eyes wide, dark, her cheeks bright with colour. Her breath shallow, fast. ‘I have never wanted anyone as I want you,’ he whispered.
    ‘Never. Not ever,’ she answered.
    ‘I want to taste you. Here. This. I want to taste all of you.’ The words, shocking, stark, raw with need, formed without thinking. He touched her, just covered her, through her dress, and felt her arch up under him just as he had dreamed. ‘I taste you,’ Geraint said, his eyes fixed on hers, stroking now, just stroking, ‘and I kiss you. Here. Like this.’
    Her mouth under his. Her lips soft, velvet, clinging. Tongues tangling. His erection throbbed. She bucked under him, moaning softly as he kissed her, as he touched her until she shuddered. She was going to come. He saw it in the faraway look, felt it in the way her body reacted. And if he did not stop...
    He rolled abruptly away, closing his eyes tight, thinking of cold snow, of army drill, and when that did not work, of the cramped recesses of the mine workings. Sweat of a different sort broke out on his brow, and the danger passed.
    Flora sat up, pulling her coat around her, feeling as if she had been caught, yanked back at the last moment from falling. No, it was more like a dream where she fell and fell, and woke up just before she hit the ground. Beside her, Geraint had his eyes screwed shut. She stared down into the glen at her home. Her former home.
    Geraint got to his feet, holding his hand out to help her up. ‘Well, I think that rather proved the point,’ he said shakily.
    ‘That reality is no match for