The Legend of the Werestag by Tessa Dare Read Free Book Online Page A

touch me.”
    Now it was Luke’s knees that quivered as he stroked her breast, caressing her with the backs of his fingers before taking the plump weight into his palm. So pale and perfect. So smooth and cool against his tongue. He bent to draw her taut nipple into his mouth, suckling her until he pulled a deep moan from her throat.
    With his other hand, he hitched up her skirts. A bit of impatient fumbling—he was out of practice, after all—and he found her sex, warm and dewy with excitement. It nearly undid him, to feel how much she wanted this. Wanted him .
    Gently, tenderly, he caressed her most sensitive flesh. Learning the shape of her with his fingers, circling her swollen pearl with his thumb. Cecily’s breathing quickened, and her eyes fluttered shut.
    “Open your eyes,” he said. “I want you to know it’s me.”
    She obeyed, looking up at him. “As if it could be anyone else.” God, the unabashed affection in her gaze… It punctured all the defenses he’d built around his heart. A flood of emotions swamped him: anger, confusion, fear. And beneath it all, a foolish, sentimental sort of yearning. He hadn’t known he still was capable of yearning, for anything.
    She made him feel almost human again.
    He sank to his knees, pressing his cheek to the cool silk of her inner thigh. “Cecy, my darling. I could kiss you for that.”
    And he did.
    Spreading his fingers to frame the slit of her drawers, he pressed his mouth to her core. She bucked against him, and he clutched her hips tight, pinning her to the wall as he teased and tasted her flesh. Her gasp of delight made his pulse stutter.
    Slowly now. Don’t rush .

    Yes, he meant to give Cecily an indelible memory, but he was also taking one for himself. He drank in her intoxicating perfume—the scents of clean linen and soap, mingling with the sweet musk of her arousal.
    He stroked her languidly with his tongue, wanting to memorize her shape, her texture, her taste. Most of all, he took his time learning her , delighting in the smallest discoveries: a caress just so made her moan; a kiss to this spot made her hips convulse.
    Be it four years or forty—this would be a kiss to remember.
    “ Luke .”
    Her peak came quickly. Too quickly. She gave a startled cry of pleasure and clutched his neck.
    Shamelessly, he slid a finger inside her, needing to feel that part of her grip him too.
    Then it was over. All of it, over.
    He caressed her until her breathing slowed. Then, with a light parting kiss to her thigh, he rearranged her drawers and petticoats before lifting his weight on shaky legs.
    What to say, when she looked at him thus? Her heart shining in her eyes, her taste lingering on his tongue. After what they’d just shared, he couldn’t lie to her. He couldn’t tell her she meant nothing to him, then callously walk away. No, he had to find some way to make her understand she meant everything to him. And while he still must walk away, there would be nothing callous about it.
    “Cecy.” He smoothed the hair from her face. And then, in a solemn tone of farewell, “You’re lovely.”
    “No.” She grasped his lapel with one hand and reached for his trouser falls with the other. “No, don’t go.” Cupping the hard ridge of his erection, she kissed his neck and whispered fiercely, “I know you want me. You must know I want you too. Luke, I—”
    “Don’t.” Summoning his last shred of restraint, he tugged her hand from the buttons and brought it to his lips. “You may think you want me, but it’s Denny you need. You deserve to be happy, Cecily. Adored, doted upon, surrounded by a half-dozen blue-eyed children. I want you to have that life.”
    “Then give me that life.”
    “I can’t. Don’t you see? Everything’s different now. I’m different now. I’m not that dashing, immortal youth who kissed you in the garden all those years ago.”
    She stroked his cheek. “I’m not the giddy, moonstruck girl you kissed. I’m a woman now,