She closed her eyes and waited for his lips, but first his cheek touched hers, and she sighed with the pleasure of his warm flesh resting against hers. He was no longer a mere shadow. He was a man of flesh and blood.Chapter 11He could remain as he was, cheek against cheek, and not move, not kiss; just feel. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel, allowed himself emotions, allowed himself to care. He wanted to linger in the beauty of those long forgotten feelings, relish in their return and grasp them firmly if only for a brief time.
Mary rubbed her cheek against his and sighed softly.
“You feel so very good,” he whispered.
She kept her eyes closed as she had promised and smiled, letting him know she felt the same of him.
Michael discarded his gloves and hesitated for a moment, reluctant and uncertain to touch her. He feared that once he did he would not want to stop. He took a deep breath and brought his hand to her neck; his fingertips gently grazed her silky skin.
She responded, tilting her head to the side, allowing him complete access to her neck.
She trusts me.
The thought sent a rush of emotions through him, heating his flesh and his loins. He wanted to protect her, love her, and worship her for she surrendered to him with the purest of hearts and emotions.
He slowly brought his lips to her neck and followed the path his fingertips had traveled. The taste of her was exquisite, soft, sweet and silky.
Her body surrendered with each kiss and he slipped his arm around her waist for support and to bring her closer to him; he wanted her as close as possible. He wanted to feel her body’s response—a simple shiver, a tingle, a movement; he intended to feel all of her emotions.
He continued to enjoy the taste of her, feeling like a starving man who had gone much too long without sustenance. The more he tasted the more hungry he grew, and with a hasty grab of her chin but with reserve, he claimed her lips.
His kiss was filled with unbridled passion, and if he were not careful he would soon have her up in his arms and on the sleeping pallet. And that he could not do; he could not take from her that which should one day belong to her husband.
She was innocent and trusting and he had vowed to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from him.
He lingered in the kiss, knowing that was all they would share yet wanting to fill himself with the taste of her. He would at least have the memory of her on his lips to keep long after they parted.
He reluctantly brought their kiss to an end but she refused to let him go.
He wanted to rejoice, smile, laugh, and cry with the joy of knowing love once again, and he surrendered to her nervous and quick attempts to kiss him.
Michael eased his mouth from hers and whispered, “Easy and slow like this.”
He taunted, teased, and tempted with his lingering kisses and when he was done, she smiled and patted her chest to let him know it was her turn.
She learned fast, much too fast, for in mere seconds her kisses had his blood racing and his loins swelling most uncomfortably. He eased away from her and pulled his black mask down over his face with much regret. If only . . .
If only he were free.
He pressed his glove-covered hand to her face. “Open your eyes.”
They drifted open with a smile.
How could she be happy about kissing a faceless man? She had placed her trust in a stranger, in a shadow, in darkness where light never shined.
She motioned with her hands to let him know how much she enjoyed their kiss.
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I have never known such a beautiful kiss until yours.”
She smiled wider and her shoulders sagged as she released a heavy sigh. She then hurried to tell him, her hand motions frantic, that he was her first; she had never been kissed before.
The knowledge reared a protective instinct in him that he knew would be hard to control. He was her first, the only man to ever claim her lips. The thought that someday another would kiss her lips filled him with anger.
He captured her waving hands in his. “I am honored to be the first to have kissed you. These lovely moments will live long with me.” He turned her hand to kiss her palm and stopped when she winced.
He looked at the red welts crisscrossing her palm, then at her.
She attempted to free her hand so that she could demonstrate how she received her injury, but he would not let her go.
“I know how you came by these injuries. There are slivers of bark within the wounds that need removing.”