muddling his head outside that assembly room where theyâd first kissed, and now he felt it again.
He could not say what it was. He had kissed many womenâmore than he cared to countâand yet he had never felt so affected by a kiss. Never felt as though he could not get enough of the woman in his arms. She was no seductress. Her kisses were unpracticed and tentative. He could teach her so much. He would have, if he were not saying good-bye, but for the moment he reveled in those novice kisses, feeling once again like a youth deep in the first flush of arousal.
He was going to put her aside. In only a moment, he would break the kiss and walk away, but the thought made him pull her hard against him and deepen the kiss. He could not remember ever wanting a woman so much, wanting to strip her clothes off, piece by tantalizing piece, kissing every inch of bared flesh slowly until heâd explored every inch of her. And then he would lay her down and worship her slowly, so very slowly, so as to prolong their pleasure until it became the most exquisite torture.
His chest tightened with desire, with the need slamming through him, and he forced his hands to his sides and gently pulled back. He had to stop now or, God help him, he did not know if he would ever be able to leave her. She wobbled, and he put a hand on her elbow to steady her. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes hazy with desire. He wondered what thoughts turned âround in her mind. Did she want him inside her as much as he wanted to take her? Did she have enough experience to think of such a thing?
Disgusted with himself, he released her elbow and stepped back.
Her hand caught his sleeve. âDo not stop.â
He shook his head. âDo you know what you are saying?â
âYes. Stay with me tonight. Take meââshe gestured vaguely to the city beyond the walls of the houseââsomewhere we can be together.â
He stared at her. âLady Emmaââ
âNo. Iâm just Emma. Iâm just a woman, and I want you, Flynn.â
The world had definitely tilted. âYour brother would murder me if I even dared to considerââ
âAndrew will never know.â She waved a hand.
He caught her hand. âNo.â
âWhy?â She stepped closer, her dark eyes bright with challenge. Was she really arguing with him? âBecause I am a virgin? Must I give myself to someone else before you will have me?â
âEmma!â The thought of her with another man made his chest tight and his fists clench. She was not his, but by God, he would not think of her with someone else.
âWhat must I do to make you want me?â she asked, her expression intent. He could all but picture her as a student, with quill poised above paper, ready to take notes.
He shook his head. If only she knew how much he wanted her, how desperately.
âYou think Iâm a child,â she said. âYou think I do not know what I am saying, but I do know. Iâve known ever since we first met, in the drawing room at Ravenscroft Castle. You entered the room, and I knew. I knew I loved you before I even knew your name. I know you felt something too.â
He wanted to deny it, but he could not. Even now he could remember strolling into the drawing room, all swagger and cockiness. Heâd been drinking in the carriage to assuage the boredom from the long trip, but he was by no means drunk. Heâd been looking forward to the dukeâs wedding, and the lovely ladies into whose beds he might fall.
And then heâd seen her. Sheâd been standing near the hearth, wearing a white gown with small yellow flowers. It was a childâs gown, and she was that age between childhood and womanhood, but heâd not been able to stop his gaze from settling on her. Heâd not been able to stop the rushing in his ears when their eyes met. He had not said anything to her other than the customary
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley