When His Kiss Is Wicked

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  As she had when he kissed her the first time, she instinctively opened her mouth to him in invitation. His low growl of approval excited her almost as much as the feel of his warm tongue penetrating her mouth. Filled with satisfaction at having pleased him, she pressed closer to him, loving the contact with his broad chest. His lean, muscular arms encircled her easily, pulling her closer still.

  Oh, God, she should not be doing this…

  But how could she not?

  Lucien’s warm hands cupped her face and he continued kissing her. Her world seemed to tilt and spin crazily around her as she clung madly to his broad shoulders for support. Her legs shook. His long fingers threaded into her upswept hair, gently loosening the pins that held her wavy locks in place. As her long hair fell like a dark curtain around her, his kiss deepened. His mouth locked on hers, devouring her, with a hunger that matched her own. His kiss demanded all of her, and she surrendered on a sigh, giving herself to him freely, eagerly.

  Slowly he backed her up until she found herself against the wall, her hips pressed against the wainscoting. And still his lips never left hers. A crazed and ravenous sensation overtook her, until all she could think of was Lucien. Lucien’s seductive lips, hard and insistent on her mouth. Lucien’s rough stubble, rubbing the tender skin on her face, branding her. Lucien’s strong hands—caressing her cheek, entwined in her hair, locked around her waist, now moving around the curve of her hips.

  Still linked tightly around his neck, her hands found their way into the soft mane of his hair. Marveling at the feel of the softness of his dark curls, she splayed her fingers around the curve of his head while his hand slid up higher and cupped her breast. She sucked in her breath at the intimate contact. He gently squeezed her, kissing her lips even harder.

  Suddenly he pulled his mouth away from hers, and her arms fell reluctantly to her sides. Without his support, her head fell gently back against the wall. An overwhelming sense of loss encompassed her at being deprived of his touch.

  “Open your eyes and look at me,” Lucien whispered, his voice ragged and out of breath.

  Pressing her bruised lips together and soothing them with her tongue, she could still taste him. Her lips felt full and heavy. Again it felt as if she were waking from a deliciously warm dream on a cold winter morning, and slowly she opened her eyes. His face was so close to hers, his green eyes intent, urgent. She blinked at him, her own breath coming in short gasps, and glanced away.

  He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head to face him. His fevered eyes pleaded with her. “Leave now, Colette. Leave now while I can still let you go.”

  Lucien was right, of course. She was inexperienced, to be sure, but she was not dim-witted either. She knew this was treacherous territory for a female and instinctively felt that her heart, her reputation, her future were all at risk. Logic and good sense demanded that she leave that instant and run all the way home as fast as her feet could carry her, locking the door behind her.

  Yet here she stood. Still. With this powerful man who made her heart race. With this man she could not resist. With this man who elicited feelings in her she’d never felt before. She was tingling with life, every sense in her body heightened when she was with him, her nerves stretched taut with anticipation and desire. Oh, yes, she should definitely run.

  Yet Colette could not move a muscle. She stood perfectly still, rooted to the floor, holding her breath.

  “Please…Colette…please…go…” He leaned in nearer once more, his mouth brushing ever so lightly against her cheek, hovering near her lips, so close she could see the fine dark stubble along his jawline. The stubble that she had felt scratching against her own skin just seconds ago. The sight of it excited her. He nudged her lightly with the tip of his aquiline nose. “Colette.” Her name became a plea and a caress against her cheek. Her heart pounded wildly.

  “I don’t want to leave,” she breathed, her voice a mere whisper. Unable to resist being with him, she reached up and put her arms around him again, and she kissed him. She brazenly kissed him, disregarding every ounce of good sense she possessed.

  “Oh, God, Colette,” he growled into her mouth, kissing her hotly. He suddenly lifted her from the floor, sweeping her into his strong arms.

  Surrounded by Lucien, she gasped. The sensation of being held by him left her breathless. Resting her head against his massive wall of a chest, she clung to him as he walked, knowing exactly what his intended destination would be.

  Colette surrendered herself willingly then. And God help her, completely.

  He carried her on long strides to his bedroom, the sound of their heartbeats echoing wildly in her ears. Once inside, he kicked the door closed behind them. Fleeting images caught her eye as they crossed the expanse of his chamber. High windows covered in long drapes. A thick woolen carpet, dark paneled walls. One very large four-poster mahogany bed. He laid her on the heavenly soft bed, her head cradled by downy pillows. It smelled deliciously of Lucien, warm and masculine. Lying beside her, he sought her mouth hungrily, as if they hadn’t just been kissing madly moments before. She relished the taste of him on her tongue once again and sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. With a swift and sure movement, he eased on top of her, his long male body covering the length of hers.

  The magnificent weight of him above her left her feeling light-headed. She was in Lucien Sinclair’s arms. She was in his enormous bed. His bed! This was how wayward girls got into trouble, she thought, suddenly sympathetic to their plight. Lucien had her in his bed. And he was about to do things to her that no man had ever done before. The enormity of what she had just consented to washed over her in a tidal wave of emotion.

  He must have feelings for her. He must. He could not do this with her if he did not. Could he? Oh, she wanted him to have feelings for her! Her own heart felt close to bursting with the roiling emotions contained within. But God help her, even if he did not love her, she wanted this moment with him. Wanted to be with him any way she could.

  If she ended up marrying some dreadful old nobleman to save her family, then at least she would have had this one night with Lucien Sinclair.

  Unconsciously she arched her body against his, wanting something, yearning for something only he could give her. His swift intake of breath encouraged her untutored movements and she writhed restlessly beneath him. Wanting more, she pulled him tighter to her, while his mouth still kissed hers relentlessly. Lost in their melting lips, he rubbed himself against her, his legs intertwined with hers. At the intimate pressure, she gasped into his mouth and he caught her breath with his. Heaven help me! Her body turned to liquid as the intense sensation poured from her waist to the tips of her toes. He pressed himself between her thighs again and she felt faint at the pleasure he caused and eagerly lifted her hips to meet his. Their frantic movements increased their pace, and still they kissed.

  His hands ran over her body, feeling her curves through the cover of her daffodil yellow gown. Then he eased his body from hers, and very gently, he turned her over onto her stomach, Colette’s body pliant to his demands. Undoing the buttons down the back of her bodice, his fingers worked effortlessly and rapidly, until the dress was loosened and tugged from her overheated body. Her petticoats followed rapidly until she lay back on the bed with nothing but her sheer undergarments covering her, grateful for the dimness in the room. Practically naked, she looked up at him, feeling shy, but at the same time surprisingly at ease with him.

  “No corset?” he whispered, leaning back over her, his eyes pinning her in place.

  She despised corsets. “Only when I’m wearing a ball gown.”

  “Thank God.” He placed a light kiss on her cheek, another on her lips.

  She reached her hands around his neck and pulled him to her, yearning to continue where they left off.

  He bent his head and took her mouth savagely, kissing her lips in with all the power in him, and she matched him. If she kissed him ceaselessly for years, she doubted she could get enough
of him. Their tongues twisted together in the wet heat of their mouths, exploring and plundering each other in a frantic dance. They devoured each other, each taking as much as they could.

  Coming up for air, he suddenly pulled away from her mouth, panting heavily. Her eyes flew open in protest at the loss of his kiss but fluttered closed in relief after she saw the impassioned look in his face. Cradling her face in his hands, he gentled his assault on her senses and touched his lips to hers, softly, ever so tenderly. He then rained feather-light kisses all over her face, as if he needed to taste every inch of her. Lucien’s delicate kisses fell on her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the curve of her ears, and the point of her chin, along her jawline. He kissed and nuzzled the soft length of her neck down to the hollow of her throat, moving lower to her chest, licking a burning trail of languid pleasure. The exquisite caress of his skilled tongue on her hypersensitive skin left her shaking.

  Her breathing became more frantic as he slowly inched the thin material of her chemise even lower, exposing her bare breasts to his gaze. The heavy rise and fall of her chest only emphasized their rounded weight. She watched as he cupped one breast firmly with his warm hand, pressing his lips to the soft flesh. Oh God. Stroking her heated skin with his amazing tongue, he traced a swirling path around her nipple, teasing the sensitive peak until it hardened in his mouth.

  Colette closed her eyes in quivering pleasure and lost herself in the mind-numbing sensation of Lucien’s lips and tongue on her breasts. Drowning in a deliciously intimate sea of warmth and kisses, her very flesh tingled and her body ached with a growing need. She yearned for more of him, to be closer to him. Her fingers wrapped in his thick hair again, breathing in the scent of him as his dark head bent over her chest.

  “Lucien,” she whispered, feverish for something she couldn’t define, opening her eyes again to look at him.

  Sensing her need, he lifted his head and gazed at her wordlessly, his eyes heavy lidded and dark with desire. She had to feel him against her, to feel his bare skin pressed to hers. He rose above her and she tugged at the buttons of his white shirt until the wide expanse of his chest was open to her. His body, perfectly muscled and toned, reminded her of a statue at a museum. She raised herself to press impassioned kisses against his warm flesh. The pounding of his heartbeat echoed through his chest and she held herself tight to him to listen. Never had she felt this close to someone, and the power of the contact had her reeling.

  Together they lay back among the fluffy pillows before he rolled over on top of her again, positioning his still-trouser-clad body firmly between her legs. As before, Colette gasped at the exquisite feel of his hardened body pressed so intimately to hers. Looking into her eyes, he rubbed against her, and as she quivered, his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss. Good heavens! It was all too much. She felt a hot, yearning ache pooling deep within her, and her body trembled with unexplored need and untamed desire.

  And still he kissed her as if she were his very reason for living.

  Mindlessly her hands caressed the bare planes of his back, feeling corded muscle tense with exertion under soft skin. The male body fascinated her; he could be so strong and hard and still feel smooth and soft. His mouth left hers again and she wanted to cry with the loss of it. He murmured hoarsely, “God, you’re beautiful.”

  She thought her heart would burst with the emotions it contained. Pressing kisses into the hollow of his shoulder, Colette clung to him, not entirely sure what would happen next or how it would make her feel. But she trusted him, trusted him to take care of her and guide her where she needed to go.

  “I want you,” he whispered in her ear before he rose from the bed. Feeling cold and bereft as he left her, she watched while he unfastened the ties at his waist. As he removed his trousers, her eyes were riveted to the bottom half of his body. The sight of his fully aroused male form made her mouth go dry and left her dizzier than she had been from his kisses.

  Once more he covered her body with his in a way that now seemed achingly familiar, and she almost cried out with the intimacy and tenderness of it. In this sacred position, she instantly grew warm again, heated by the contact of skin against skin. His soft, full lips began their sensual magic on her eager mouth, his tongue delving within and dancing with hers. He positioned himself between her legs, and the sensation melted her mind completely. She could not think a single coherent thought. All she could do was feel, feel Lucien above her, around her, touching her, kissing her, caressing her.

  And still it was not enough.

  She wanted more of him. Her hands seemed to move of their own volition, for she certainly did not consciously make them, running up and down his back, pressing her fingers into him, in an attempt to bring him closer to her. She squirmed beneath him, and he ground himself against her, causing her to stop breathing for one heavenly moment. Ripples of pleasure slid up her body, leaving her yearning and aching for more. He did it again. And again.

  “Lucien…I want…Lucien…”

  He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath coming in heavy pants. They stared at each other in the shadowed light, the evening darkness covering them. Then he took her hand in his and slowly guided it lower, between them, to grasp the hard length of him. Stunned by the heated silkiness of his skin, she gently traced the tip, and down the thick shaft, growing bolder as her touch became firmer, more controlled. His eyes closed and his head fell back. Fascinated by the shape and feel of his body, she stroked and caressed him, her fingers moving up and down, gently squeezing, but his sharp intake of breath caused her to stop. With a soft kiss on her lips, he drew her hand away from him and settled himself on the bed beside her, his head propped up by his arm, and he stared at her with a wicked grin. She clung to him, in protest, wanting him, the weight of him, above her again.

  Tenderly he kissed her cheek and wrapped one arm around her waist to calm her. Waiting nervously for she knew not what, she gazed back at him. Then the hand at her waist began to move. Lazily he stroked the flat length of her quivering stomach, with gentle, easy motions. His fingers worked a sensuous path across the curve of her hip, down her thigh to her knee, and back up, across her stomach and down the other leg. Warm, soothing caresses continued, up and down, back and forth, down and up, veering ever nearer to the present center of her being. Unable to move, to think, to speak, and barely able to draw a breath, she was weak with anticipation. All feeling, every nerve in her body, focused on the growing all-encompassing need within her. Closer and closer, he teasingly massaged her skin. Oh God, this, this, was unimaginable, unbearable, unstoppable. Never had she dreamed this… When Lucien’s fingers finally touched the soft curls between her thighs, and with infinite tenderness, delved within the slick, aching folds, Colette practically flew out of her skin. One intent finger sank into the depths of her, the core of her, and she thought she would shatter into a million pieces right there on the bed.

  “More?” he breathed in her ear, his voice raspy and low.

  Unable to speak, a faint little sigh escaping her, she nodded in assent to make sure he knew she was definitely agreeable to more. With his face close to hers, his mouth sought her lips in a heated kiss while he pressed another finger deep within her. Enflamed by the exquisite pleasure of Lucien touching her that way, her body burned. She clung to him frantically, for he was the only solid thing in her spinning world. He was her world. The all-encompassing, all-consuming need that racked her body could only be assuaged by Lucien. She needed him. All of him. More of him.

  “Please, please…” she whimpered softly as his fingers moved within her, making every bone in her body melt.

  With his kisses hot on her fevered cheek, he continued to stroke her. The sensations created by his fingers within her caused her hips to move in unison with him. An intense longing built within her, and she pressed herself against his hand, searching for a release. On and on it went, until she thought she would go mad from it all. Time lost all meaning. All that matter
ed was his mouth on hers, his naked body beside her, and his exquisite fingers. Just when it seemed she could not endure another moment of waiting, a sudden intense burst of pleasure spread through her with such fervor that she cried out for him.

  Lucien held her close to his chest then, cradling her in his arms, kissing her hair, soothing her as she regained her senses. She breathed him in as she lay in his arms, wondering at her own body. No one had ever explained that to her. Then again, how could they? What had just happened between them defied words. It had been heavenly. Yet strangely enough, that exquisite release had left her still wanting more.

  Her mouth sought his and he responded to her overture with an eagerness that excited her. Their lips clung to each other ravenously. In a sudden and swift motion, he rose above her, separating her legs with his knee. Colette thrilled at the inevitability of what would come next, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He pressed himself against her, and her breath came in shallow pants. Waiting. Wanting. Wishing.

  “Colette?” he asked in an anguished voice, his green eyes heavy with desire for her.

  Looking up at this man poised above her, his handsome face looking intently at her, his voice saying her name, his breath mingling with hers, the broad expanse of his chest touching the tips of her breasts, and his legs interlocked with hers, there was only one reply she could give. Fear, shame, shyness, and regrets were feelings for another time. Right now, right here, with this man, she wanted this. She wanted him. All of him.

  “Yes.” The word escaped her mouth in a hiss, and she pulled him to her, pushing her body toward him at the same time.

  A throaty groan tore from his mouth and he plunged into her with a quick and sure motion.

  Colette cried out, not so much from the pain but from the surprise. The surprise of how he felt inside her, of the physicality of being so close to a man. This man.

  Lucien stilled at her cry, sheathed within her.