open, her hands performing the task without thought. There was only instinct guiding her, and the need pounding louder and louder until it was the only thing that she heard.
She wanted to touch him, wanted to be touched in return. A sigh broke through their kiss when her hands finally pushed his shirt aside to allow her to touch his skin. It was smooth and hot beneath her fingertips, but so decadent she couldn’t contain her delight. His hand still cradled her head, but the hold had become dear to her. Resistance was gone, her body willingly leaning into his. In the dark he was more approachable, and boldness took over as she sent her hands along his neck, pressing her entire palms to his skin.
“Sweet Bridget …”
His voice trailed off into a throaty whisper. His hand moved, his fingers combing down her loose hair. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes to allow the sensation to command her. He reached the ends and lifted both of his hands to her head to begin another long stroke through her hair. He closed the gap between them, leaning down to bury his face in her tresses. She heard him draw in a deep breath and make a sound that resembled a contented grumble against her neck.
When he reached the ends of her hair this time, his hands slid onto her hips, cupping them for a moment. The grip sent a wave of excitement through her belly, her clitoris suddenly becoming needy and demanding. The knowledge of what he could do to the little nub hidden within the folds of her sex made her even more eager for his attention.
“Tell me you want this.”
He lifted his face away from her neck and stared at her. In the moonlight, his face was cast in silver and black, making him appear more legend than man. Yet his touch was warm, like a man … like a lover.
“Tell me you desire me.”
His fingers tightened around her hips, the hold feeling more intimate than any she had ever experienced. Her blood was racing through her body, her heart beating in hard thumps that pounded against the inside of her chest. She wanted to press her belly against him, against the hard cock she knew lay hidden behind his clothing. He held her in place, however, refusing to allow her to remain silent.
“I do desire you.”
His fingers plucked at the delicate fabric of her chemise, tugging it up until he pulled the entire garment over her head. Her hair floated down once he drew the last of the chemise away from her, the long strands settling against her bare back in a whisper of sensation.
“Good, because I lack any further ability to resist you.”
He reached up and yanked his shirt free in one hard motion that betrayed how little control he had remaining. The moonlight cast its illuminating glow over hard ridges of muscle that covered him from his neck to where his pants hid the rest of his body from view. A light covering of hair curled over his chest and down the center of his belly. Bridget was acutely aware of the fact that she was nude, but not because she was ashamed. There was no guilt pressing down on her, only an awkwardness and fear that he would find her form lacking. She felt his gaze sliding over her, lingering on the teardrop shape of her breasts as they hung exactly the way nature had designed them. Her nipples drew into tight little pebbles while he remained silent, and his attention slid lower to her waist and then over the flare of her hips.
“It feels as though I have waited an eternity to see you like this.” He reached out, gently stroking the curve of one breast, his fingers tracing the soft globe until they encountered her hard nipple. “It was worth every tormenting moment.”
His fingers lingered on her nipple, softly pinching it. Sharp enjoyment shot through her, and she shifted away, unable to remain still. He frowned at her but reached for the waistband of his pants and opened them instead of closing the distance between them. The open garment sagged down his legs, and he stepped out of it in one swift motion. His cock stood up, stiff and erect, with nothing to impede her sight of it.
“I believe you claimed your mother had you tutored by a courtesan to keep you from fear tonight. Is it working?”
“Yes …” She answered before thinking. Her mind had long since stopped trying to interrupt her with its ponderings.
“Then touch me, Bridget.”
She had never heard him plead, but it was there in his husky tone. A need to have her come to him. There was no choice involved. She reached out, her fingers connecting with his erect member. He stiffened, drawing in a harsh breath. Hearing that telltale little sound flooded her with confidence. She closed her hand around his girth, allowing her fingers to grip him gently. Her memory offered up a picture of how Marie had stroked Tomas’s length, and Bridget mimicked the motions.
“Sweet Christ.”
Curan clamped a hard arm around her, pulling her against his body and trapping her hand in place.
Frustration sent her chin up. “Now who is timid?”
His teeth were bared at her, but she rubbed the underside of his cock with her fingers and listened to him suck breath through his teeth.
“I believe it only fair that I reduce you to the same weak creature your touch makes me.” His lips curved up in an arrogant grin. “I enjoyed hearing you whimper.”
“I believe I will enjoy hearing the same from your lips just as much.” She rubbed his cock once again. “Unless you are too much afraid of a woman gaining control over you. Somehow I doubt that you have never been sucked.”
“Sweet Christ, that woman told you about sucking a man?”
Bridget laughed, a throaty sound that drew one of his hands down to one side of her bottom. His fingers gripped her, the tips curling into the valley between her cheeks. Rising up onto her toes, she placed a soft kiss against his chin.
“She showed me.”
He cursed beneath his breath and in French, but it filled her with more boldness.
