Read Online Lost in a Royal Kiss by Vanessa Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Vanessa Kelly
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force of will required to hold back.
But the walls against him would no longer hold, and she finally surrendered to the desperate yearning she’d battled for so many long months. She didn’t resist his kiss, although her dazed mind and body still held her passive in his embrace.
But when one of his big hands settled on her, cuddling her breast, Linnet jerked in his arms. Sensation streaked down to coalesce between her thighs. It seemed her body was not her own, instinctively arching into his hand as she moaned into his mouth.
Unexpectedly, Anthony broke the kiss. The hand at her back moved up, fingers sliding into her loose braid. He gently gripped her head, holding her still as he gazed at her. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with passion, but his mouth—his beautiful, strong mouth—was pulled tight, as if he were in pain. His jaw looked hard as stone and tense enough to shatter.
“I’m not stopping, Linnet,” he growled. “Not unless you order me to. Right now.”
His deep, rasping tones made her shudder. Sir Anthony had a knack for intimidating her at the best of times. Right now, he looked ready to consume her, and a heavy beat of awareness—what it would mean to surrender to him completely—pounded through her blood. She almost quailed before it.
But as they hung suspended in that moment, staring at each other, her incipient panic began to fade. She saw something else in his eyes besides sexual desire and the masculine need to conquer. She saw a yearning that matched hers, and a vulnerability she’d never seen in him before. It seemed to coil its way into her heart, connecting them in a way she’d never expected. The wild beat of her pulse settled, and an infinite tenderness wove its way into the passion he’d called up between them.
She slid her hands up to take his bristle-roughened face between her palms. The fire in his eyes seemed to leap higher at her touch.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I want you to do everything you want.”
His gaze widened. “Do you mean that?” he asked in a tight voice.
She responded by pulling his head down to hers, kissing him with every ounce of pent-up longing in her soul. Boldly, she turned his head, adjusting the fit of their lips, searching for the sweetest taste. For long seconds he didn’t move, allowing her to control the kiss, then his passion broke over her like a dark, roaring tide.
He swept her up in his arms, rising to his feet. She broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Sir Anthony, what are you doing?”
“Hush, love,” he murmured. “I simply want to make you more comfortable. And under the circumstances, I don’t think you need to address me as Sir Anthony.”
She mentally winced. “Oh, of course not,” she said, feeling foolish and rather shy.
He carried her to a divan piled high with cushions, in an intimate reading nook. Linnet curled her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his chest. She was trembling with nerves, her breath fracturing, but the scent of him—starched linen and warm male—was strangely comforting.
When he leaned down to lay her onto the divan, she couldn’t bring herself to let go.
“Darling, you’ll have to let me go, or we won’t get very far.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Either that or I’ll get a crick in my back from bending over. I won’t be much use to you if that happens.”
She let out a nervous laugh and let him deposit her on the cushions, scooting over to make room for him.
“Not yet,” he said, coming down onto his knees beside the divan.
That brought them to eye level. He reached out to smooth back stray locks of hair from her forehead while he studied her. The smile still lingered in his eyes, but his expression was serious and intent, as it so often was.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He drew in a deep breath, expanding the impressive muscles of his chest. His shirt gaped at the neck, revealing tanned skin and dark, masculine hair.
“I’m
But the walls against him would no longer hold, and she finally surrendered to the desperate yearning she’d battled for so many long months. She didn’t resist his kiss, although her dazed mind and body still held her passive in his embrace.
But when one of his big hands settled on her, cuddling her breast, Linnet jerked in his arms. Sensation streaked down to coalesce between her thighs. It seemed her body was not her own, instinctively arching into his hand as she moaned into his mouth.
Unexpectedly, Anthony broke the kiss. The hand at her back moved up, fingers sliding into her loose braid. He gently gripped her head, holding her still as he gazed at her. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dark with passion, but his mouth—his beautiful, strong mouth—was pulled tight, as if he were in pain. His jaw looked hard as stone and tense enough to shatter.
“I’m not stopping, Linnet,” he growled. “Not unless you order me to. Right now.”
His deep, rasping tones made her shudder. Sir Anthony had a knack for intimidating her at the best of times. Right now, he looked ready to consume her, and a heavy beat of awareness—what it would mean to surrender to him completely—pounded through her blood. She almost quailed before it.
But as they hung suspended in that moment, staring at each other, her incipient panic began to fade. She saw something else in his eyes besides sexual desire and the masculine need to conquer. She saw a yearning that matched hers, and a vulnerability she’d never seen in him before. It seemed to coil its way into her heart, connecting them in a way she’d never expected. The wild beat of her pulse settled, and an infinite tenderness wove its way into the passion he’d called up between them.
She slid her hands up to take his bristle-roughened face between her palms. The fire in his eyes seemed to leap higher at her touch.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I want you to do everything you want.”
His gaze widened. “Do you mean that?” he asked in a tight voice.
She responded by pulling his head down to hers, kissing him with every ounce of pent-up longing in her soul. Boldly, she turned his head, adjusting the fit of their lips, searching for the sweetest taste. For long seconds he didn’t move, allowing her to control the kiss, then his passion broke over her like a dark, roaring tide.
He swept her up in his arms, rising to his feet. She broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Sir Anthony, what are you doing?”
“Hush, love,” he murmured. “I simply want to make you more comfortable. And under the circumstances, I don’t think you need to address me as Sir Anthony.”
She mentally winced. “Oh, of course not,” she said, feeling foolish and rather shy.
He carried her to a divan piled high with cushions, in an intimate reading nook. Linnet curled her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his chest. She was trembling with nerves, her breath fracturing, but the scent of him—starched linen and warm male—was strangely comforting.
When he leaned down to lay her onto the divan, she couldn’t bring herself to let go.
“Darling, you’ll have to let me go, or we won’t get very far.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Either that or I’ll get a crick in my back from bending over. I won’t be much use to you if that happens.”
She let out a nervous laugh and let him deposit her on the cushions, scooting over to make room for him.
“Not yet,” he said, coming down onto his knees beside the divan.
That brought them to eye level. He reached out to smooth back stray locks of hair from her forehead while he studied her. The smile still lingered in his eyes, but his expression was serious and intent, as it so often was.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He drew in a deep breath, expanding the impressive muscles of his chest. His shirt gaped at the neck, revealing tanned skin and dark, masculine hair.
“I’m
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