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All the more reason not to linger. Planting one hand on his chest, she tilted her head.
But her intention to press a brief kiss to his lips died as she registered the thud of his heart beneath his jacket. Watched his eyes zero in on her lips.
Her breath escaped in a sigh because shefeltthat look like a caress. Her pulse hammered and her chest shuddered as she sucked in air.
Just get it done. A few seconds and it will be over.
She rose to brush her mouth against his.
Annalena blinked, stunned to discover his lips were soft. Even that cursory touch brought with it a taste of… She couldn’t name the flavour except she liked it.
Benedikt didn’t respond, didn’t move, his gaze focused on her mouth in a way that made her imagine her lips throbbed. They parted and she licked them, trying to draw in more of that taste.Histaste.
A fiery arc of heat shot down her body, past her nipples and stomach to the hollow between her thighs.
Golden-brown eyes met hers and one slashing dark eyebrow lifted as if to sayIs that the best you can do?
He was right. That wasn’t a kiss. Yet she was torn between competing instincts. To be cautious and step away. Or be bold and fit her mouth to his.
In the end it was a mix of determination not to be seen as weak and the lure of irresistible temptation.
She put her other hand on his shoulder, holding herself steady as she rose and covered his mouth with hers.
He didn’t move but that didn’t matter because she knew exactly what she wanted. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes and moved her lips, brushing, nibbling, tasting. The rich, unique taste of him was addictive and she wanted more.
Her fingers drifted up to cup the hot flesh of his neck, thumb on his jaw and fingertips buried in his short hair.
Finally he moved, angling his head to give better access.
Her breath stalled as delight punched hard. She wanted…
Too much. Far more than this tentative caress, yet still Benedikt didn’t reciprocate. Did he feel nothing? Not the tiniest spark of pleasure? Was this truly just about her acclimatising to his presence?
Hurt pride seared.
Maybe, like some of his staff, he found her unsophisticated. She’d heard a stifled giggle in the royal offices the other day. From the corner of her eye she’d seen Ida Becker whispering to another woman and caught the words ‘…wearing a dirndl like a milkmaid.’
As if their national dress were embarrassing!
As ifAnnalenahad anything to be ashamed of because she tried to deal with people honestly, not playing at one-upmanship.
Annalena didn’t stop to ponder why that provoked her. Why Benedikt’s unresponsiveness became unbearable. She simply followed her instinct, stroking her tongue between his lips, demanding entry, then following that delicious taste and exploring the lush mystery of his mouth.
She clasped his head with both hands, tentative no longer as she delved deep and discovered…
Oh.
A shudder raced from her head to her soles as his tongue slid against hers, curling and drawing her deep into plush, velvety warmth that was more inviting than any place she’d ever been.
Something jolted through her like an electric shock. Every sense deepened. Colours appeared in the darkness behind her eyes like a kaleidoscope reflecting sunlight. The scent and taste of him deepened. The satin of his skin beneath her palms and the thick silk of his hair against her fingertips made her hands curl possessively. Sheheardthe twin thrum of their pulses, beating in sync.
She’d kissed before. But the last time had been a long time ago. How could she have forgotten?
Unless it hadn’t been like this.
Disquiet filtered into her brain. Did he sense it? A second later it vanished as he roped his arms around her, tugging her flush against his body.
Annalena gasped at the myriad sensations. All that hard, masculine heat. The heavy cushion of muscled thighs and broad chest. The slow track of one large hand settling low on her back and drawing her in. Benedikt’s mouth moving with hers, his tongue coaxing and enticing.