The Best Next Thing

He groaned and the soft, deep rumble reverberated through her chest and trembled down her spine until her legs liquefied, and her free hand moved up to his other shoulder for support.

Her lips trailed up beneath the firm ledge of his jaw, and she was both disappointed and gratified to find that he had shaved. She missed the pirate, but she welcomed back the attractive, urbane man she had initially found herself drawn to.

He still hadn’t moved, and she wasn’t quite sure what she would do if—when—he did. Bravery was one thing when it wasn’t tested…but the moment he took the initiative from her; she would find herself tested. Still, expecting him not to move while she had her wicked way with him wasn’t practical, and it wasn’t what she wanted.

But what she wanted terrified her.

She—very slowly, as if she were handling a wild animal—wrapped her arms around his neck and finally found his mouth. For the first time since he had so generously offered his body to her, he moved; bending his neck to allow her easy access to his mouth. She traced the outline of those sensuous, wicked lips with her tongue, before softly planting her mouth on his.

This kiss was as timid as the one on the beach and, while she was eager to deepen it, to explore him more fully, she was petrified of unleashing something in him. Something wild and uncontrollable. It was an unfair and unfounded fear. She knew that…

Miles was not Blaine.

She had never met a more controlled man than Miles. And the iron clad command he appeared to have over his emotions and his responses, should make her feel safe. But self-governance was one thing when you were dealing with your family, your staff, or business. However, things could get messy when sex was involved.

“Get out of your head, Charity. Stay in this moment. With me.” His gruff voice startled her. She opened her eyes and tilted back her head to stare at him. His gray eyes were warm and accepting. She was startled to realize that she had frozen with her arms still wrapped around his neck. The kiss that she had initiated now dead on their lips, while she wallowed in self-pity and fear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hearing despair quivering in the words.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to stop?”

She reflected on the question. Then considered how wonderful it felt to be plastered against his hot, hard body. Contemplated how glorious his erection felt cradled against her subtly rocking pelvis.

She brought her hands to his face, palming his lean cheeks, and smiled at him.

Did she want to stop?

She planted her open mouth over his and proceeded to show him exactly how much—no, how little—the thought of stopping and backing away from him appealed to her.

At last he moved, his arms wrapped around her back, and he held her close as he deepened the kiss. Adding the dimension that was missing before. This was no longer a solo endeavor, he was fully on board and very capably demonstrating how much better a kiss could be when both participants shared equal amounts of themselves.

His tongue welcomed hers into his mouth, before following it back into hers. The thrust and parry, the heat and intensity of the kiss set her nerve endings aflame, and Charity moaned as she pushed herself even closer to him.

She wanted more.

She hadn’t expected to want so much more, in so short a time.

One of his hands swept over her back to the nape of her neck, and he tenderly smoothed his palm over the bare skin he found there. Charity shuddered at the contact, but his hand moved on all too quickly. He clearly had a goal in mind, and when he found the bun secured at the back of her head, she knew exactly what he wanted. She left him to explore there while she did a little of her own stroking and petting.

One of her hands found the hard curve of his butt while the other discovered the drying silk of his thick hair.

Her breasts felt swollen and tight in their confining bra, and she ached for him to release them, to touch them and fondle them. She longed to feel his hot, wet mouth on the swollen peaks. She released her grip on his tight behind, and groped for the hand he had on her back. It felt large and capable in hers, and she shuddered in anticipation as she imagined how that rough skin would feel on her nipples.

His breath snagged when she moved his touch to her torso, and he understood what she needed from him. With his mouth still on hers, and his other hand busily tugging pins from her hair, he yanked her blouse out of her skirt’s waistband. She made an embarrassingly throaty sound of pleasure at the first touch of that roughened palm on her naked, sensitive skin and he chuckled.