A Daring Passion

Unable to stop himself, Philippe reached out with a slow, deliberate gesture. He held her gaze as he put his hands on her pretty Spenser and with a sharp motion ripped it open. The buttons popped loose and fell to the wooden floor.

Raine made a strangled noise as he pulled the ruined jacket from her body and then treated the pale ivory gown to the same savage treatment. The ripping of the fragile silk sounded unnaturally loud in the silent room. For a moment Raine remained frozen in shock and Philippe allowed his avid gaze to drink in the sight of her alabaster beauty.

So fragile. So perfect.

Then she was reaching out to smack his chest with a closed fist. “You demon. Have you gone mad?” she rasped.

He ignored her futile attack as his hands busily set about ridding her of the boned corset and thin chemise.

“If I have gone mad you’ve no one to blame but yourself,” he drawled wickedly, his blood running hot as he regarded her dressed in nothing more than her stockings and dainty slippers. “You have bewitched me to the point that no other woman will satisfy me. Now you must bear the repercussions of your feminine wiles.”

“You blame me for your outrageous behavior?” She glared at him, although Philippe did not miss the shiver that shook her body. Whatever this strange obsession, he was not alone in it. “Now I know you are out of your wits.”

Philippe chuckled as his fingers blazed a trail down the delicate curve of her back. He could feel her flesh quiver beneath his bold exploration.

“And who else would I blame, meu amor?” he whispered close to her ear. “’Twas you that threw yourself in my path. You who tempted me with your sinful beauty. You who have inflamed my desires until they are like a sickness that I cannot cure.”

“I have told you the cure.” Her eyes flashing, she demanded, “Release me. Let me go.”

“I possess the cure,” he said just before he covered her mouth in a savage, biting kiss.

Raine flinched in surprise at his punishing onslaught, but she made no effort to pull away. Instead her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket as if to keep herself upright.

Philippe splayed his hand at the curve of her back to press her against the throbbing hardness of his erection while his other hand cupped the back of her head as he devoured her mouth with the hunger that raged through him.

“Philippe,” she whispered in surprise as he suddenly swung her into his arms, and carried her to the nearby bed.

“Shh.” He put her down on the bed, the pale sunlight angling across her body as he wrestled his way out of his clothes. “I need to be within you.”

She watched him with darkened eyes, her hair tumbled from its tidy knot to spread across the crisp white pillow. He gave a low groan as he moved to cover her body with his.

He knew that a part of her continued to resent her captivity at his hands. Her independent spirit would always rebel at the least touch of the leash. And yet, she belonged to him. Every last satin inch of her.

“So soft,” he muttered. “So sweet.”

He brushed his fingers across her small breasts and felt her nipples harden in response. She answered his touch with a readiness that clouded his mind with urgent need.

She moaned and lifted her hands to roughly shove them into his hair. He kissed her, feeling her lips tremble and then finally part in capitulation.

Philippe wanted more. Needed more. With a wild heat he framed her face as he kissed her with a gentle ravishment. He stroked his tongue deep into her mouth, he nipped at her lips, he muttered rough demands that made her quiver beneath him.

He felt her yielding as she roughly kissed him back and arched her body in silent demand. He gave a low growl as his lips explored her female temptation. Her

breasts and the puckered tips of her nipples. She squirmed beneath his relentless quest, her fingers clutching at his hair as his mouth skimmed over her slender belly.

Philippe chuckled as he nuzzled the curve of her hip. He had made love to her in every position imaginable, and yet she remained oddly shy when he wished to pleasure her in such an intimate manner.

“Open for me,” he whispered.

“No…Philippe.”

“Open, meu amor. I want to taste you.”

With a relentless pressure he pulled her thighs apart, ignoring the sharp tugs on his hair as he pressed his mouth against her. Dragging his tongue through the honey-sweetness he teased and stroked with a practiced skill.

Just for a moment she battled against the pleasure coursing through her body. Then with a moan her hips lifted to press against his tormenting mouth. He waited until her breath was coming in soft pants before he slid back up her body. Covering her lips in a fierce kiss, he tilted his hips and entered her with a sharp thrust.

His fingers threaded through her satin curls as he pumped again and again, his ragged breathing echoing through the room until he at last felt the small pulses of her release that massaged his thick shaft. With a grunt of satisfaction he plunged into her one last time and poured his pleasure into her throbbing body.