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"If I ca
He let the last word hang meaningfully in the air until Je
His eyes flicked to hers and he said with a wicked grin, "Modesty forbids me to name it."
"Don't be coy," Je
"I believe I am quite good at"-his hand curved round her shoulder-"kissing."
"K-kissing!" she sputtered, laughing and simultaneously rearing back, dislodging his hand. " 'Tis beyond belief that you would boast of such things to me!"
" 'Twas not boasting," Royce countered, looking stung. "I've been given to believe I am quite good at it."
Je
"I gather you find that notion laughable?" Royce observed dryly.
She shook her head so emphatically that her hair came tumbling over her shoulder, but her eyes were dancing with merriment. "It-it is merely," she said on a suffocated laugh, "that I ca
Without warning, his hand lifted and curved round her arm, drawing her firmly toward him. "Why don't you judge me on it then?" he suggested softly.
Je
"Nay, I feel I must prove it."
"There's no need," she cried desperately. "How could I possibly judge your skill when I've never been kissed in all my life?"
That admission only made her more desirable to Royce, who was accustomed to women whose experience in bed rivaled his own. His lips curved in a smile, but his hand tightened on her arm, drawing her inexorably closer, while his other hand lifted to her shoulder.
"Nay!" Je
"I insist."
Je
Royce released the pressure of his hands just enough to let her lift her compressed lips from his. "Perhaps I'm not as good as I once thought," he said, keeping his amusement carefully hidden. "I could have sworn your mind was working the whole time."
U
"I mean, would you say our kiss was the sort that wellborn ladies 'dream' about?"
"Please let go of me."
"I thought you were going to help me comport myself to the pleasure of wellbred ladies, such as yourself."
"You kiss very well! Exactly how ladies dream of being kissed!" Je
"I just don't feel confident," he teased, watching the little sparks of anger igniting in her incredibly blue eyes.
"Then practice on someone else!"
"Unfortunately, Arik does not appeal to me," Royce said, and before she could voice another objection, he swiftly switched tactics. "However," he said pleasantly, "I can see that, although threats of physical retribution have no effect on you, I've finally discovered what does."
"What," she demanded, suspicious, "do you mean?"
"I mean that, in future, when I want to bend you to my will, I'll simply kiss you into compliance. You're terrified of it."
Visions of being kissed-no doubt in front of his men-whenever she balked, rose to alarming prominence in her mind. Hoping that by speaking in a calm, reasonable voice, rather than heatedly protesting his statement, she could dissuade him from making her prove her claim, she said, " 'Tis not fear I feel, but merely lack of interest."
With a mixture of amusement and admiration, Royce noted her ploy, but it only added to his inexplicable determination to taste her response to him.
"Really?" he breathed softly, his heavy-lidded gaze fixed on her lips. As he spoke, his hand curved round her head, pressing inexorably downward, inch by slow inch, until his warm breath was mingling with hers, and then his gaze lifted, locking with hers. Insistent, knowing gray eyes captured frightened, beguiling blue ones, imprisoning them as he brought her lips down against his. A jolt slammed through Je
Royce felt her lips soften involuntarily, felt her shaking arms give way, her breasts coming to rest against his chest, the wild pounding of her heart. His hand, which had been holding her mouth pressed against his, lightened its pressure at the same time his lips increased theirs. Rolling her onto her back, he leaned over her, deepening his kisses, his hand shifting soothingly over her side and hip. He slid the tip of his tongue along the crease of her lips, seeking entrance, insisting that they part, and when finally they did, his tongue plunged into the sweetness of her mouth and slowly withdrew, then plunged again in blatant imitation of the act he was begi
Royce's mouth became more demanding, his tongue seeking, stroking, while his hand slid restlessly up her midriff, caressing her breast, then down again, swiftly unfastening her belt and gliding beneath her tunic. Je
She moaned beneath the sensual onslaught, and desire exploded in Royce as he felt her flesh swelling beneath his palm, her nipple rising up proudly against it. He brushed his fingers lightly back and forth against the impudent tip, then he caught it between his fingers, rolling it between them. He felt her gasp of shocked delight against his mouth as her fingers dug convulsively into his shoulders, and she kissed him deeply, as if trying to return the pleasure he was giving her.
Startled by the tormenting sweetness of her response, Royce lifted his mouth from hers, gazing down at her flushed, intoxicating face while he continued to caress her breast, telling himself that in a moment he would let her go.
The women he had bedded never wanted to be seduced or handled gently. They wanted the leashed violence, the power and stamina that were part of his legend. They wanted to be conquered, subdued, taken roughly, used-by the Wolf. The number of women who had implored "Hurt me" in bed with him were too numerous to count. The role of sexual conqueror had been thrust on him, and he'd accepted it for years, but with increasingly frequent bouts of boredom and, lately, disgust.