Untouched

Ruin pulled away slightly and gave her a lazy, satisfied, male smile. “Kiss me again, Grace,” he said softly.

And despite everything, she made no demur as he gathered her up and found her mouth with his.

This, this was what Matthew had dreamt of through those endless nights. Grace luscious and eager in his arms. Grace warm and supple under his hands. To defy the reliably malign fate which was sure to rip her away, he brought her closer and plundered her mouth.

She tasted delicious. More succulent than the ripest plum. The harrowing encounter two nights ago had hinted at her bounty. But he’d never guessed the riches that awaited when she came to him willingly.

He’d had no idea a kiss could be like this. So all-encompassing. As if when lips met, souls met.

Instinct made him push his tongue between her lips again. Heat sizzled through him as her tongue grazed his, then moved with more purpose. She sighed into his mouth and rational thought deserted him. The kiss lost all restraint. Became an open gateway to other pleasures he had no right to seize.

He raised his head. Her eyes were dazed and dilated with arousal. Wanton color flushed her usually pale cheeks. Her lips glistened wet and swollen. They parted as she sucked in a shuddering breath. He fought the urge to taste that breath. His erection rubbed insistently against the front of his breeches, demanded that he draw her down onto the lush grass where he’d found her sleeping.

No! He must let her go now. Or he’d never let her go.

Slowly, he slid his arms from around her, while every beat of his heart insisted he take their kisses further. Take them to the conclusion his body screamed for.

Stepping away from her was physically painful.

And all for nought.

When she swayed, he caught her again. Only the last shred of willpower stopped him snatching her up for more intoxicating kisses. Instead, he hooked his fingers around her upper arms and held her steady.

She stared at him, lost, dazzled, silent. Masculine triumph surged through him. She looked like the world started and ended with this moment.

“Grace? Are you all right?” His voice emerged as a croak.

She swallowed and her eyes dropped to his mouth. He bit back a groan as another bolt of incendiary desire left him staggering. “Grace?”

She blinked and raised her eyes. He watched as awareness slowly replaced her lost expression.

God knew what she saw when sh

e looked at him with that level cobalt stare. A poor shuffling lunatic? A fumbling brute? An inept boy? Or a man she wanted in her bed?

“That…that was a mistake,” she said huskily. Her voice scraped along his strained nerves like velvet sandpaper.

“A glorious mistake,” he said, before he could help himself.

“Yes.”

The murmured admission set his heart racing again. His clasp on her arms softened, became a caress. She closed her eyes and leaned nearer, tilting her face up.

He couldn’t ignore the invitation. Whatever honor required. As their mouths melded, he felt rather than heard her gasp.

His fingers plunged into her thick black hair. He wanted to tear her clothes off and take her. He wanted the rapturous kiss never to end.

He wanted her. He wanted her.

He could never have her. Making her his mistress was wrong. He couldn’t do it. He wrenched out of her arms. His hands clenched hard at his sides. He wouldn’t do it.

“This was meant to be a kiss only,” she whispered, raising a hand to her lips as though she tested the memory of his touch.

“A lesson.” Bitterness tinged his voice. She was right to remind him of how this had started. His futile anger betrayed her miraculous generosity. Her kisses had offered a glimpse of paradise. A paradise he could never enter.

Surprisingly, she smiled. “You graduated with honors.”

“If not with honor.”