Moonwitch

“Why are you so flushed, Moonwitch?” Casually, he raised a hand to her face. “Your cheeks are hot. Is your body hot, as well?”

Selena gritted her teeth. “How could it be? You said I was cold.”

“Not always.” His large hand cradled her throat, then glided downward to the ruched neckline of her gown. Curving his fingers over the edge, he slipped them inside her bodice, against her skin, against the warm swell of her breasts. “Not when I do this,” he observed in a husky whisper, finding a taut nipple and stroking it with the backs of his knuckles.

Selena caught her breath on a gasp.

“Do you like it when I caress your breasts?”

She closed her eyes in dismay, deploring the stiffness of her nipples beneath his questing fingers.

“Are you shocked, Moonwitch? You shock so easily.” Each low, sensuous word stroked her. “Your breasts are beautiful. So full on the underside…tilted up at the peaks.”

He dragged his knuckles sensuously across the rigid crests, then paused, closing his fingers around a tight bud. It sent an unexpected tremor of pure desire racing through her. “Kyle!” The word was a gasp and a plea as she clutched desperately at his corded forearm. “Someone might come.”

“If they do, they’ll see me saying good night to my wife. That’s what you are, aren’t you? My wife?” He bent his head, nuzzling her open lips. “A man has certain rights with his wife.”

“No,” Selena breathed, trying to avert her face as she realized where his thoughts were leading.

His hand left the bulwark to grasp her chin gently while his lips continued their sensual assault. “I warned you before we were married, you would have to be available to me whenever and wherever I chose.”

Selena quivered. He had threatened to take her anytime, anywhere, and she was half-afraid he would make good his threat right there in the corridor. But she couldn’t find the will to push him away. His fingers were still wickedly arousing her breasts, while his hard mouth was drugging her senses.

“I could assert my husbandly rights.” The husky murmur caressed her lips before he drew her lush bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue outlining its softness.

When she gave a quiet moan of protest, Kyle drew back briefly to stare down at her. His face was taut, his eyes smoldering with a desire so intent it scorched her.

His hand moved across her cheek to nestle in the soft, silken hair just below her ear. But as he bent his head to kiss her, he lost the careful control he had been forcing on himself. The tender persuasiveness vanished, replaced by burning demand. His fingers twined in her hair; his thighs and chest crowded her against the bulwark. Selena could hardly breathe through the heady rush of sensations that assaulted her. Her mouth opened to him, welcoming the fierce, probing thrust of his tongue.

Kyle felt her response. With a low, tearing groan, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him, his mouth fastening on hers with a hunger that seemed to want to devour her, mastering her, robbing her of breath.

Selena moaned in earnest this time as he plundered her mouth. He was searing her with his heat. She was filled with the scent of him, the taste of him, her head swimming, her knees weak.

Her body was sagging bonelessly against his when he finally dragged his lips away and drew a shuddering breath. “I should be getting something out of this marriage.”

The muttered words were ragged, shaken, and it took her a moment to digest their import. Then she stiffened in pain. The sound of her own gasping breath was loud in the sudden stillness as Selena stared up at Kyle, regarding him numbly. Was her willing body all he wanted from their marriage? Was lust all he felt for her?

A cold shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the night of the storm, when she had given herself to him without reservation. But what had been such a soul-wrenching, wonderful experience for her had meant nothing to Kyle beyond the gratification of his physical desires. And when they had arrived in New Orleans, he had gone straight into the arms of his mistress.

She wouldn’t be such a fool again.

Defiantly, she clenched her fists, her breasts gently heaving as she stared up at him. “Yes,” she acknowledged hoarsely. “You could assert your rights. And as my husband, you could command my obedience.” She hoped her disdainful tone and rigid body made it clear she wouldn’t submit to him willingly.

Kyle drew a sharp breath. His gaze narrowed, meeting Selena’s in a deadlock of passion. “Command?” Skepticism flickered in his eyes. Then his v

oice gentled. “Would it be such an onerous duty, then?”

Selena could tell by the husky charm in his voice that he had reverted to his earlier strategy; he meant to batter her defenses with another assault of tenderness.

She tensed in alarm, not sure she could withstand another such offensive. When Kyle lowered his lips to her swollen mouth, she gave a gasp of protest and strained away from him, pressing her back against the bulwark.

“Are you denying that you enjoy my lovemaking, Moonwitch?”

His lips found the vulnerable underside of her jaw, moving down the line of her throat, pressing a kiss tenderly against the pulse that was hammering there.

“Kyle…” A whimper escaped her even as she edged closer to her door in a desperate attempt to escape.

“Can you forget the way my mouth moved over your body? The way I moved inside you? The way I filled you?”