The Legacy by Fayrene Preston Read Free Book Online Page B

throat exposed, her hair streaming down her back. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer. Clouds of music and moonlight, drifts of sea breezes—and most of all Caitlin—threatened his common sense. But Nico was beginning to wonder why he was bothering to resist. She wanted him, and he sure as hell wanted her. He was playing with fire, but he had never had a burn that didn’t heal. Where was the harm?
    Somewhere in the back of Caitlin’s mind, she was aware that they weren’t dancing. Not that she had really wanted to dance. If she’d had a conscious thought at all, it was that she wanted to learn the feel of his hard lines, strong arms, firm lips. Him.
    “Nico,” she whispered.
    Slowly, methodically, he wrapped long silky strands of her hair around his hand until his hand was tight against her scalp and he controlled the position of her head. “Yes,” he said. “Yes.” Then his mouth came down on hers, and his tongue thrust hotly into her mouth.
    She gave herself up to the kiss and to him as a low moan escaped her throat. She’d imagined this kiss, yearned for It, but she wasn’t prepared for its reality. His tongue made outrageously intimate forays into her mouth that inundated her senses with new sensations. Her knees threathened to buckle, but he held her tightly to him, so tightly, it seemed that he was trying to make her part of him. The idea didn’t frighten her at all.
    He parted her satin jacket, then delved beneath the camisole and closed his hand over her breast. She was fuller than he had thought, more perfect. And the rigidity of her nipple thrilled him. He rolled the taut peak between his fingers, thinking he could spend hours lavishing attention on her breasts and nipples and never grow bored. He salivated to have as much of her as possible in his mouth. He could almost taste the honey-sweetness of her now. And she wouldn’t protest. This sure knowledge nearly drove him past the edge of reason. But he held on. He wanted both her and reason, and he wasn’t yet ready to admit that was impossible.
    Passion unfolded in her body and spread, taking possession. His hands and mouth had an extraordinary sureness that brought her nerves alive. He was seducing her with ease, but the moment seemed too right for Caitlin to resist. His actions and his obvious arousal left no doubt that he wanted her.
    In a comer of her mind, she realized he completely controlled her. The Idea carried excitement with it, yet the steel-hard control he kept over himself bothered her. Still, she skimmed her hand inside his shirt, along the smooth flesh of his back. Muscles rippled beneath her palm, giving her some sense of his strength, making her tremble with passion. A feminine hunger raged within her to touch all of him—every dip and rise of his body, every plane and curve. She wanted to learn him intimately, and she let her hand rove freely, but when she encountered the tape securing one bandage, she hesitated.
    And then he was pulling away.
    “The record.”
    She blinked as if she’d suddenly come from complete darkness into a brilliantly lighted room. “What?”
    “The record’s over,” he said gruffly.
    Confused, she stared at his dark expression, trying to decipher what was wrong, and it was a moment before she became aware of the insistent scratching of the needle as it tracked against the record. Her limbs quivering with weakness, she walked into the drawing room, turned the Victrola off, then leaned against the tall mahogany cabinet for support.
    She’d never in her life experienced anything like what had just happened between her and Nico. A touch of his lips had sent her out of control—an experience he obviously hadn’t shared. Okay, she thought, rubbing her forehead, what now?
    She was tom. She was beginning to wish desperately for something more to develop between her and Nico than a brief brush with passion, although she sensed it would be foolish of her to try to pierce the mystery that