Bloody hell, he did not know what the devil he was doing, but her mouth—it was perfection under his; the way they seemed to meld and meet defied all expectation. Each breath, each kiss, each touch of lips tossed him higher and higher toward some fiery passion that he’d never experienced before.
The kiss burned through him, turning him to a positive cinder. Except it didn’t leave him in ashes. No, it sparked something in him, which then grew and blazed.
Beatrice’s own passion seemed to be just as fiery as his until, kiss for kiss, they were consuming each other.
They clung to each other like two souls lost upon the sea, and the only salvation lay in their bodies entwined together.
Her hands slid up to his jaw and then into his thick hair.
He marveled at the feel of something so intimate and so passionate at once. He found himself wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her into him until they both arced, as if somehow they could become one with this kiss.
The feel of her body against his was sheer perfection, her breasts pressed into his hard chest, a contrast to her softness, and he savored the feel of her hips cradled just below his.
Breath for breath, gasp for gasp, touch for touch, the kiss built. Driving further and further down a path he could not understand.
He had to have her. In all his life, he’d never desired anyone so much.
As if she was equally astonished, her lips parted, and he found himself unable to resist touching her tongue with his. The kiss turned wild, as if they had both been starving for years and finally found exactly what they needed to fulfill their hunger.
He let out a soft moan of appreciation as he caressed her tongue with his, and she let out a sigh of bliss as she relaxed into him.
“Ahem!” a voice called from the door.
They both tensed, then jolted back from each other, as if their touching was as dangerous as being struck by lightning.
“I did not mean to intrude,” Lady Margaret ventured, her eyes wide but not with judgment. He fancied fascination and delight danced there. “But Father is asking for Beatrice. We have an appointment this afternoon.”
“Lady Margaret,” he said and gave her a quick bow. She stared at them as if they had been replaced by complete strangers.
“It is a good thing that it was me who found you two,” she piped.
“I hope you did not watch much,” he replied.
“Indeed, no,” she assured as she swung her gaze from Beatrice to him. “Just enough…” Margaret cleared her throat.
Beatrice’s eyes were wide with horror. “Can you imagine if my uncle caught us? You would be trapped. I would be trapped. We would be trapped.”
The real horror of it hit him at her words. What the bloody hell had he been thinking?
“You were most lucky,” put in Margaret, who still seemed amazed. “Are you two getting married?”
“No!” roared Beatrice.
“Absolutely not,” he stated. “I was giving her a boxing lesson.”
“A boxing lesson,” repeated Margaret.
He frowned. “Yes.”
“I see. Who knew one needed to stand so close?” Margaret coughed.
“I tripped,” blurted Beatrice.
Margaret nodded and said rather enthusiastically, “Of course you did. Very common in a boxing lesson, no doubt.”
He planned on remaining a bachelor for a very long time. And the idea of having to marry someone like Lady Beatrice, well, it was positively horrifying, wasn’t it? Of course it was.
He’d spent his whole life shoring himself up against the possibility of the sort of pain his parents had endured. The sort of abandonment he had experienced as a child. He would not fall short now.