At his provoking query, Kate planted her feet. “No, I am not running away!”
He looked skeptical. “I never took you for the craven sort.”
The implication riled her. “I am not craven, Deverill!”
“Then prove it.” When she was silent, he tugged on her hand. “Come closer, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
He gave her a slow smile. “Indulge me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you about?”
“Showing you pleasure, what else?”
What else? It was clear he w
as set on seducing her to establish his mastery over her, and she was rising to his bait, devil take him.
It didn’t help when he asked in a tone that was slightly taunting, “Haven’t your ‘marvelous’ lovers ever brought you to pleasure with the barest stimulation? They must not have been very skilled or concerned about your satisfaction. I would never make that mistake.”
The promise in his vow stroked her nerve endings.
Kate set her jaw. No one could get under her skin the way Brandon Deverill could. His smile alone was infuriating. He knew how devastating that smile could be. And his eyes…She saw both desire and tenderness in his eyes. Heaven help her. She was out of her depth, her own harried emotions spinning out of control. Worse, he had ignited a deep, desperate desire in her to surrender—and a deeper need to prove him wrong. She was not a coward.
She took a deliberate step forward, till their knees touched. “Now what?”
Gazing up at her, he spread his legs slightly. “Now I want you to mount my thigh.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”
“Utterly. It will be like riding a horse. You are an excellent horsewoman.”
Defiantly, Kate hiked up her skirts several inches and eased her right leg over his right one. Then placing her hands on Deverill’s shoulders for balance, she settled on his thigh and stared back at him. “Like this?”
At her rebellious gaze, he cocked his head. “Not quite. You are far too tense. Relax your body. As you said, this is not a battle.”
Kate swallowed. There was a hypnotic force in his gaze. He was capable of stirring wicked fantasies with a mere look.
Sliding his arms around her, Deverill drew her close enough that her breasts pressed against his chest. Her heart picked up its pace, banging against her rib cage.
Then he moved his thigh slightly, lifting her up. The pressure on the sensitive core of her made Kate give a faint gasp.
“Now close your eyes,” he commanded, his voice a seductive murmur.
When she obeyed, he leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss on her cheek. His lips were tender, coaxing, softly teasing her flushed skin.
“You said you didn’t need to use your mouth,” Kate complained in a ragged voice.
“So I did. But I want to kiss you, badly. I want to taste you and savor you and arouse you….”
Again he moved his thigh against her mound, sending a shock of fire rippling through her. Her eyes still shut, Kate tightened her fingers on his shoulders, her breath stuck somewhere between her lungs and her throat.
“But I don’t need to even touch you,” Deverill continued in a softer voice, “to know what I would find. I can imagine parting your thighs, finding your mound with my fingers, stroking your slick cleft….”
The vivid picture he painted contributed to the sweet eroticism of his voice, while the friction he created incited a burning desire to press harder against his sinewed thigh. With an involuntary whimper, Kate began to move her hips, riding his flesh, relishing the play of musculature against the very center of her.
As if understanding her need, he reached down to grasp her buttocks, aiding her in finding a rhythm. Excitement melded with yearning inside Kate. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she hid her face in his neck, panting at the incredible sensations coursing through her body.