just some parts from a book im currently reading called on a wild night by Stephanie Laurens. pretty addictive book.
“She felt his gaze. She glanced at him ; her eye met his, locked on them. Then she stilled.
A wash of colour spread across her collarbones, swept into her porcelain cheeks. Her lips softened; she glanced down at the book, considered the picture again.
The pulse at the base of her throat leapt, her fingers fluttered at the edge of the page. He sensed the change in her breathing, could, through the tension suddenly binding them, feel the rise of her desires.
Hesitantly, she looked at him. Her eyes were dark, pupils dilated, ringed with an intense sapphire blue.
‘So you see,’ he ground out, the words gravelly, deep ‘the pictures do affect you.’ He reached for the book – knew he had to take it from her, bring the moment to an end. Quickly.
‘No, you’re wrong.’ She shifted the book away from his hands. Lost her grip. The book slithered from her silk covered lap, thudded onto the floor.
They both reached for it.
He slid forward- the movement brought him close to her.
His weight sinking into the bed pitched her into him.
In a slither of silk, Amanda squirmed around, spread her hands across his chest and stayed him. ‘No – leave it.’ She struggled to breath, to think, to keep her eyes on his rather than on his lips. ‘It’s proved my point.’
The muscles under her hands were rigid; she felt his control quake. It helf, but only just. The heat of his body washed about her, engulfed her; something primitive prowled just behind his mask. She glanced at his lips. Saw him moisten them, saw them form the words, ‘How so?’
She looked into his eyes; he continued, ‘The ouctures aroused you.’
‘No.’ triump warmed her, but it was getting harder and harder to think. ‘ It wasn’t the pictures. They were … interesting. Revealing. Nothing more.’ Boldly, she trailed a finger down his lean cheek, her gaze locked on the path she traced until her fingertip touched the corner of his lips. Her wits were slowly spinning awat, as if speech, as if thought, no longer mattered.
She looked up; his eyes were a dark, mesmerizing deep green. ‘It was you – watching you look at the picture. Imagining you imagining me…’ She slid her hand back, curled her fingers about his nape, drew his lips to hers. ‘ Watching you imagining us…like that.’
Their lips touched, and they were lost.
She didn’t know it, but every instinct reacted. To the fact that she had her lion in thrall, that she’d finally breached his walls and captured the sensualist at his core. Gloried in the fact that he was hers, here and now, without reserve.
And she was his.
The realisation streaked through her, not a thought but pure feeling, something she felt in her skin, in her blood, a knowledge that sank to her marrow.
She was with him from the instant that kiss set spark to tinder, followerd eagerly as the conflagration grew, as the caress evolved into an explicit exchange. He eased back into the cushions; she went with him, sinking against him, luxuriating in the feel of his hard body beneath hers. Her arms about his neck, She locked him to her as the kiss went on and on.
As they fell deeper under the sensual spell fate had woven about them. “
Above them, her skin was bare, glowing like ivory pearl in the soft light. His gaze traced the gentle swells of her thighs, rested on the thatched of blond curles at their apex. Chest tight, he sent his gaze roaming higher, over her taut stomach, over the indentation of her waist to her breast, swollen and rosy-peaked from his attentions. Lifting his eyes, he took all of her in, drank in the sight. She lay stretched alongside him, within the circle of one arm, totally naked but for her silk stockings, a creation designed to overwhelm his senses, resilient female curves encased in alabaster satin, her golden locks luctrous in the candlelight.
At her back, all around her, the jewelled tones of his silk shawls and cushions created a fitting bed on which she was displayed – a gem, a pearl beyond price.
His”
Live reply