Read Online After the Abduction by Sabrina Jeffries - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sabrina Jeffries
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skirts, and his mouth caressed hers. He stirred to life the attraction that she’d truly thought buried, the craving for his touch that had once tormented her.
Suddenly, his tongue swept her lips, and she jerked back in shock.
His breath came raggedly, but triumph glittered in his eyes. “You don’t even know how to kiss intimately.” His voice wound about her like scented smoke. “How can you claim you’ve known the greater intimacies shared between a man and woman in bed?”
She hated the blush flooding her cheeks and giving her away. “I…I…”
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I never believed you anyway.”
That stung. “I didn’t kiss you intimately because I don’t like you, that’s all.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Is that so? Then tell me, Lady Juliet, what do I mean by intimate kissing?”
Drat it all, she had no idea. She’d only kissed a few men, polite little presses of lips to lips. Did it have something to do with Lord Templemore’s outrageous attempt to lick her lips? Was she supposed to lick his lips back?
Chuckling, he skimmed his thumb over her chin, then pressed down until she opened her mouth slightly. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Then he kissed her again. Except this time his tongue pressed between her teeth. Intrigued, she opened her mouth further, and he groaned low in his throat as he plunged his tongue inside.
My oh my oh my, that was interesting. It made her quiver in the oddest places, burned through her like flame devours wick.
Curving his hands around her face, he kissed her more thoroughly than any man had ever dared. He did the most wicked and, yes, intimate things with his tongue. As if he had the right to invade her mouth.
She could hardly breathe, yet she wasn’t about to stop him, not when he made her feel so utterly delicious. His fingers snagged her curls, then pressed into her scalp to hold her still as a man clutches a brandy glass in his hour of need. He drank his fill in hearty, deep kisses that made her knees buckle.
An ache thrummed between her legs, unfamiliar and surely scandalous. Though she tried not to react, she couldn’t stop herself from swaying into him. Apparently that inflamed him further, for he grasped her hard aboutthe waist, settling her against him belly to belly as he plundered her mouth like a reckless adventurer.
She liked it, liked how intense and uncontrolled he was. Two years ago, she’d yearned to have Morgan want her like this, and at last he did…he did!
It reminded her of running away with him, and later escaping the smugglers with him. The burst of heat and excitement mocking her silly girlish dreams. The wild, fiery need scorching her innocence.
What was wrong with her? How could she repeat her mistake of two years ago? She was supposed to be unmasking him, not throwing herself at him, for goodness sake!
But this felt so right…
Besides, after this, he could hardly deny their previous connection. That thought tipped the balance from uncertainty into surrender, and she flung her arms about his neck, crushing the velvety waves of hair at his nape. The scent of iron and neat’s-foot oil engulfed her, made her dizzy. Hephaestus was dragging her into the forge, and she would leap willingly into the fire, oh yes.
He tore his mouth from her eager lips to whisper, “Juliet…ah, sweeting…”
Only he had ever called her sweeting. “Morgan…” she whispered back.
He froze. Jerking back from her, he stared uncomprehending into her eyes. Then his face drained of heat as suddenly as hot iron dunked in water. He dropped his hands from her. “What the devil am I doing? I must be mad…”
Pivoting away, he leaned over to brace his fists on the table. His shoulders shook from the force of his sharp, heavy breaths.
“Morgan?” She stepped forward to lay her hand on his back.
He flinched at her touch. “Don’t ever call me that again. Call me Sebastian or Lord Templemore, but neverMorgan. I’m not
Suddenly, his tongue swept her lips, and she jerked back in shock.
His breath came raggedly, but triumph glittered in his eyes. “You don’t even know how to kiss intimately.” His voice wound about her like scented smoke. “How can you claim you’ve known the greater intimacies shared between a man and woman in bed?”
She hated the blush flooding her cheeks and giving her away. “I…I…”
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I never believed you anyway.”
That stung. “I didn’t kiss you intimately because I don’t like you, that’s all.”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Is that so? Then tell me, Lady Juliet, what do I mean by intimate kissing?”
Drat it all, she had no idea. She’d only kissed a few men, polite little presses of lips to lips. Did it have something to do with Lord Templemore’s outrageous attempt to lick her lips? Was she supposed to lick his lips back?
Chuckling, he skimmed his thumb over her chin, then pressed down until she opened her mouth slightly. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Then he kissed her again. Except this time his tongue pressed between her teeth. Intrigued, she opened her mouth further, and he groaned low in his throat as he plunged his tongue inside.
My oh my oh my, that was interesting. It made her quiver in the oddest places, burned through her like flame devours wick.
Curving his hands around her face, he kissed her more thoroughly than any man had ever dared. He did the most wicked and, yes, intimate things with his tongue. As if he had the right to invade her mouth.
She could hardly breathe, yet she wasn’t about to stop him, not when he made her feel so utterly delicious. His fingers snagged her curls, then pressed into her scalp to hold her still as a man clutches a brandy glass in his hour of need. He drank his fill in hearty, deep kisses that made her knees buckle.
An ache thrummed between her legs, unfamiliar and surely scandalous. Though she tried not to react, she couldn’t stop herself from swaying into him. Apparently that inflamed him further, for he grasped her hard aboutthe waist, settling her against him belly to belly as he plundered her mouth like a reckless adventurer.
She liked it, liked how intense and uncontrolled he was. Two years ago, she’d yearned to have Morgan want her like this, and at last he did…he did!
It reminded her of running away with him, and later escaping the smugglers with him. The burst of heat and excitement mocking her silly girlish dreams. The wild, fiery need scorching her innocence.
What was wrong with her? How could she repeat her mistake of two years ago? She was supposed to be unmasking him, not throwing herself at him, for goodness sake!
But this felt so right…
Besides, after this, he could hardly deny their previous connection. That thought tipped the balance from uncertainty into surrender, and she flung her arms about his neck, crushing the velvety waves of hair at his nape. The scent of iron and neat’s-foot oil engulfed her, made her dizzy. Hephaestus was dragging her into the forge, and she would leap willingly into the fire, oh yes.
He tore his mouth from her eager lips to whisper, “Juliet…ah, sweeting…”
Only he had ever called her sweeting. “Morgan…” she whispered back.
He froze. Jerking back from her, he stared uncomprehending into her eyes. Then his face drained of heat as suddenly as hot iron dunked in water. He dropped his hands from her. “What the devil am I doing? I must be mad…”
Pivoting away, he leaned over to brace his fists on the table. His shoulders shook from the force of his sharp, heavy breaths.
“Morgan?” She stepped forward to lay her hand on his back.
He flinched at her touch. “Don’t ever call me that again. Call me Sebastian or Lord Templemore, but neverMorgan. I’m not
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