I failed to contain my raspy breaths, too far lost in the sublime pleasure of being touched by this man. My entire being reached toward him in anticipation of the next caress, and he gave it to me with startling tenderness.
When the last tangle pulled free, he gathered the weighty mass and rested it over my shoulder, out of the way. Cool air kissed my bare neck. Then the seductive, shivery heat of his breath.
“One of the many things I’ve missed,” he said, feathering warm lips across my nape, “is falling asleep with your silken curls splayed across my chest. With your cheek against my heart. With your arms, your legs, every inch of your magnificent body hugging mine.”
I missed that, too. Tremendously. And I despised myself for it.
His mouth trailed across my back, tracing the lines of my shoulders and spine. He took his time, doting upon every hollow and arch, kissing prickled skin, and fingering the top edge of the stays.
Continuing downward, he yanked at the laces, released a few more, and journeyed ever lower. Brazen fingers molded to the flare of my hips, clenching tight to curves that no man had touched since I’d met the Feral Priest.
Then, as promised, his teeth sank into the back of my gown and began an erotic assault on the satin, pulling at hooks, ripping through ribbon, and freeing me from the air-depriving restraints.
His breathing accelerated, and his hands dug into my waist, holding me immobile and recklessly affected. I was so distracted by the wreckage of his teeth and the sounds of his hunger I didn’t notice he’d finished with the gown until it landed around my booted feet in a puddle of shredded fabric.
A thin ankle-length shift and matching ivory corset of quilted linen covered what remained of my modesty. The undergarments failed to confine everything, and as he turned me to face him, my chest spilled out, right into his greedy hands.
“Look at you.” With a groan, he scooped up a breast in his huge palm, lifting it toward his mouth. “As stunning as I remembered. Irrationally beautiful.”
His thumb flicked the nipple, and his lips covered the swell of pale flesh. I felt it everywhere. Hot breath. Velvet tongue. Torture.
Exactly as planned.
I would let him believe I was his again. Then I would strike.
He suckled my breast, nipping my nipple, licking, biting, and kissing with increasing aggression. I arched against his irresistible mouth, caught in the trap of his glinting silver stare. It seared my skin and zapped the air, leveling my insides like a hurricane.
I couldn’t stop him from looking. Couldn’t stop my body from throbbing in female delight. Couldn’t stop myself from wanting him with every sinful thought in my head.
My hands went to his hair, gliding over the exotic adornments of beads and braids amid the thick brown strands that swept off his brow and caught in the back with a knot of leather.
With his mouth on my breast, I ran my nose along his temple, breathing in the masculine scent of his skin, the clean earthly fragrance of his scalp, and the dark distinctive essence of the only man who knew how to knock my knees out from under me.
“Priest.” My body thrummed, grinding shamelessly against his.
“Bennett.” He raised his head and bit my neck, my jaw, my face, my lips, scraping his teeth across my skin and devouring me without restraint.
With a hand on my nape, his other clutched my bottom, flexing and kneading with bold fingers, before sliding to the back of my thigh to hook my leg around his waist. Then he pulled me tight against him and kicked his hips, reintroducing me to the hardest part of him.
My brain frantically composed objections, but I could only vocalize a ragged moan. His touch transformed me into a willing victim. His kisses reduced me to a writhing creature in heat, desperate to reunite with her mate.
Nothing could deter me from indulging in the taut well-honed shape of his physique. I touched him through the shirt, tracing firm pectorals, trim hips, and slopes of bulging shoulders, biceps, and forearms. He was just as I remembered—built with dense power, carved from solid stone, and smoothed to godlike perfection.
When my hand caught the belts at his hip, he released me to remove the straps, sashes, and shirt, leaving his body bare from the waist up.
Lean muscle rippled across the inverted triangle of his torso. Lantern light glinted off smooth tawny skin, accentuating thick shoulders, defined arms, and deeply cut abs.
Christ almighty, he was gorgeous. Too immaculately designed. Too much man for one woman. I’d known that when I met him. I’d acknowledged the promise of heartbreak all over that divine face.
I’d mistakenly believed my heart was immune to it.
His grip returned to my jaw, angling it upward to expose the curve of my throat to his plundering mouth.
My breath fled as I flattened my palms on his chest, shuddering at the hard heat of him. His body was an effigy of chiseled art, an omnipotent sculpture to be coveted and revered. By the eternal God, I wanted to rub up against him, climb him like an animal, and ride him until I reached nirvana.
My plan didn’t require me to fuck him. But dammit, what would be the harm? Would it be so bad to escape the loneliness for a little while? Just an hour or two of mindless bliss? I could still have him chained in the bilge by morning.
My body decided for me, rushing heat between my legs and spasming inner muscles. My hand moved on its own, slipping between us and gripping his swollen length through the thin breeches.
“God’s blood.” He groaned against my throat, and his teeth sank in, laying siege to delicate skin and nerve endings.
I curled my fingers around his girth and explored the thick shape of him, thrilling in the way he jerked and throbbed in my fist. “You feel positively feral, Mr. Farrell.”
He choked on his next breath and lifted his head. “It’s been two years, Mrs. Farrell.”
Our eyes met, and it hurt to look at him. Hurt to feel him this hard and coiled with arousal. He was so insanely, potently attractive. His neck muscles tensed with need. Sculpted cheekbones sharpened with intensity, and full lips parted on a famished breath.
“I will not lose you again.” He grabbed my throat and dove in for the kiss.
My pulse went wild as Priest slanted his mouth over mine, possessing me with ravenous audacity. The fury he’d carried aboard my ship disintegrated beneath his desire, and I melted with him, surrendering to the fire that burned so fiercely between us.
Sweet heaven, the way he dragged the flat of his tongue against mine, licking me, panting, and vibrating guttural noises across my lips… His loss of control was an aphrodisiac, driving my own heedless plunge from hatred to lust.
His hands wandered, and his kiss hungered, feeding on me with voracious, impatient strokes as if I embodied what he needed to survive. I wanted to give him what he sought. I ached to give him everything.
“Bennett.” He growled and bit down on my bottom lip, sucking hard and humming deep in his chest.
Maybe I imagined the devotion in the fingers that caressed my back, but I didn’t care if it wasn’t real. He was holding me, kissing me, taking pleasure in being with me. His love and fidelity were all I’d ever wanted from him.
He fisted my shift, gathering it up my legs. Crisp air hit my wetness, and competent fingers slid up my bare thigh. Fingers that promised wicked pleasure. And pain. Years of it. Because they belonged to a cold-hearted philanderer.
An adulterous knave.