Read Online Affair with the Rebel Heiress by Emily McKay - Free Book Online
Authors: Emily McKay
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And she felt powerless to stop him.
The backs of her knees bumped against the arm of the sofa just as his hand cupped her breast through the bodice of her robe. The silk provided little protection against his roaming hands, not that she wanted any. She felt her nipple tighten, hardening to his touch. Heard a groan stir in his chest.
He pulled his mouth from hers. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.”
But he poured kisses along her neck as he said it.Proof that he was as powerless against her as she was against him.
Her hands clutched the lapels of his jacket. Pulling back, she tried to glare at him. Which was hard to do through the fog of her desire.
“How you wanted it to happen? What about what I want?”
He grinned wickedly, his hand flicking open the folds of her robe. Brushing the outside of her panties, he said, “I think I know what you want.”
Her panties were damp with her need for him. She knew it. Maybe it should embarrass her, this desperate lust for him, the way he only had to kiss her and she went wet for him, but it didn’t. Not when she knew he felt the same way. She may be wet, but he was hard. Panting. Pulsing against her hand when she ran it down the front his pants.
“You do, don’t you?” Her voice came out husky. “Know what I want, I mean.”
“I do.”
His gaze was disconcertingly serious as he muttered the words. For an unsettling second, she considered the possibility that maybe this was about more than just sex for him. For both of them. But she shoved the concern aside.
Sex was all they had. All she wanted.
Because she couldn’t think about anything else. Anything beyond this minute. This very second. She couldn’t think about the mistake she might be making. Or the mistake she’d already made.
She couldn’t think about the pair of pregnancy tests she’d hastily thrown out when the doorbell rang. Couldn’t think about the twin pink lines on those pregnancy tests. She couldn’t think about the baby already growing in her belly.
Logic told him to slow down, but she didn’t let him. One minute he was merely kissing her, the next she was tumbling over the arm of the sofa, pulling him on top of her. He barely caught himself in time to keep from squashing her. He braced one hand on the back of the sofa and the other right beside her head.
For all her height, she felt tiny beneath him. He didn’t want the weight of his body to pummel her. “That was close,” he muttered.
“Not nearly close enough,” she purred, bucking against him. Her hips rocked against his. Not in a light and playful way, but frantically, as if she were seconds from losing all control. One of her legs crept up the outside of his thigh, hooking around to anchor her hips to his.
Then she bucked against him one last time, rolling him off the sofa altogether, following him down onto the floor. Thank God for plush carpet, though even that hadn’t been able to keep the breath from being knocked out of him.
Or maybe it was just her that took his breath away. Kitty. Demanding. Arrogant. Unapologetic. And sexy as hell.
She walked her hands down his chest, slowly pushingherself into a seated position astride his hips. Her robe gaped open, barely covering her breasts as it caught on her nipples. The sash was still tied at the waist, but the robe revealed enough for him to see she was naked except for her underwear. A little scrap of fabric that felt silky and damp beneath his touch. Just kissing him had made her wet. His erection leaped at the very idea, straining against the front placket of his pants.
Head thrown back, she shifted her hips forward, grinding herself against him. She groaned low in her throat, a sound both erotic and unbearably tempting. How could he resist her? Why would he even try?
He slipped his thumb under the hem of her panties and found the nub of her desire. He stroked her there and the moan turned into a chorus of yeses. The steady chant echoed through his blood,
The backs of her knees bumped against the arm of the sofa just as his hand cupped her breast through the bodice of her robe. The silk provided little protection against his roaming hands, not that she wanted any. She felt her nipple tighten, hardening to his touch. Heard a groan stir in his chest.
He pulled his mouth from hers. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.”
But he poured kisses along her neck as he said it.Proof that he was as powerless against her as she was against him.
Her hands clutched the lapels of his jacket. Pulling back, she tried to glare at him. Which was hard to do through the fog of her desire.
“How you wanted it to happen? What about what I want?”
He grinned wickedly, his hand flicking open the folds of her robe. Brushing the outside of her panties, he said, “I think I know what you want.”
Her panties were damp with her need for him. She knew it. Maybe it should embarrass her, this desperate lust for him, the way he only had to kiss her and she went wet for him, but it didn’t. Not when she knew he felt the same way. She may be wet, but he was hard. Panting. Pulsing against her hand when she ran it down the front his pants.
“You do, don’t you?” Her voice came out husky. “Know what I want, I mean.”
“I do.”
His gaze was disconcertingly serious as he muttered the words. For an unsettling second, she considered the possibility that maybe this was about more than just sex for him. For both of them. But she shoved the concern aside.
Sex was all they had. All she wanted.
Because she couldn’t think about anything else. Anything beyond this minute. This very second. She couldn’t think about the mistake she might be making. Or the mistake she’d already made.
She couldn’t think about the pair of pregnancy tests she’d hastily thrown out when the doorbell rang. Couldn’t think about the twin pink lines on those pregnancy tests. She couldn’t think about the baby already growing in her belly.
Logic told him to slow down, but she didn’t let him. One minute he was merely kissing her, the next she was tumbling over the arm of the sofa, pulling him on top of her. He barely caught himself in time to keep from squashing her. He braced one hand on the back of the sofa and the other right beside her head.
For all her height, she felt tiny beneath him. He didn’t want the weight of his body to pummel her. “That was close,” he muttered.
“Not nearly close enough,” she purred, bucking against him. Her hips rocked against his. Not in a light and playful way, but frantically, as if she were seconds from losing all control. One of her legs crept up the outside of his thigh, hooking around to anchor her hips to his.
Then she bucked against him one last time, rolling him off the sofa altogether, following him down onto the floor. Thank God for plush carpet, though even that hadn’t been able to keep the breath from being knocked out of him.
Or maybe it was just her that took his breath away. Kitty. Demanding. Arrogant. Unapologetic. And sexy as hell.
She walked her hands down his chest, slowly pushingherself into a seated position astride his hips. Her robe gaped open, barely covering her breasts as it caught on her nipples. The sash was still tied at the waist, but the robe revealed enough for him to see she was naked except for her underwear. A little scrap of fabric that felt silky and damp beneath his touch. Just kissing him had made her wet. His erection leaped at the very idea, straining against the front placket of his pants.
Head thrown back, she shifted her hips forward, grinding herself against him. She groaned low in her throat, a sound both erotic and unbearably tempting. How could he resist her? Why would he even try?
He slipped his thumb under the hem of her panties and found the nub of her desire. He stroked her there and the moan turned into a chorus of yeses. The steady chant echoed through his blood,
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