There it was, his tongue, parting her lips for his advance. Portia’s fingers tightened in his hair as she opened for him, returning his kiss with all the fervor roiling through her. A small cry emerged from her, a needy whimper. Her nipples were hard and aching, and between her legs, she was throbbing with desire that had been suppressed for far too long. Or mayhap that wasn’t the reason for her fierce reaction. Mayhap it was just him.
The hand that had lingered at her waist slid to her hip, cupping her there, drawing her more firmly against his body as he plundered her mouth. And she found herself hooking her leg around his, wishing the cumbersome barrier of her gown did not exist. Her tongue mated with his. It was the most feral, hedonistic, raw kiss she had ever shared with another.
It was the prelude to his cock deep inside her.
Portia had lost her innocence long ago, and to a man who had not deserved the love she had given him. But experience meant she knew what she wanted, what she needed. She wanted Wolf, surname unknown. Wanted his body on hers, inside her. Wanted him to take her to the massive carved desk he had been standing behind at her earlier entrance. Wanted him to raise her gown and petticoats and chemise, to align his cock to her cunny, and sink deep inside. To take her fast and hard. To make her spend.
It had been so long—far too long—since any man had made her feel so alive.
And although it was wrong, so very wrong, and forbidden and against every vow she had made to herself, she could not deny how badly she wanted this man now. She should put an end to this madness. And she would. But first, just one more kiss.
One more kiss.
And another…
She was lost in him.