Page 35 of Dark Embrace
Forhim.Yes.
He leaned in, his cheek almosttouchinghers.
“Sarah.” Her name was a breath. A whisper. Aquestion.
She held her silence, uncertain what answertogive.
“I have enjoyed every conversation, every interaction. I enjoy the way your mouth twists a little to the right when you are deep in thought.” He touched his fingertip to the corner of her mouth. She gasped and had the strangest urge to open her lips and lick his skin. “I enjoy the way you walk with purpose, head high. I enjoy the sound of your laughter when you tease Mrs. Bayley, and the tone of your voice when you offer kindness to a dying man.” He brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and she leaned into his touch. “I had not planned it, this fascination. But here it is—” his chin brushed against her hair as he leaned closer, and her heart stopped, her breath stopped “—and I find myself glad of it, though reason argues it isunwise.”
Her senses hummed with her awareness of him, with the warm glow that swelled at his words and the wild ache that spread through herlimbs.
Oh, her mind was not her own, her body heavyandhot.
She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted to know the feel and taste of him. She was hungry for him, her lips tingling, her belly lit from inside with a heat that bordered on pain. Even in her inexperience, she recognized the feeling for what it was. Attraction.Desire.
It was lovely, this feeling, lovely and frightening and thrilling. She thought that if only he would press his mouth to hers that she would understand, would know secrets that hovered just beyond herreach.
He turned to her then, his movement quick, and she fell back a step, her back pressed tothewall.
Both hands shot out and Killian laid his palms flat against the wall on either side of her shoulders. She held herself still, her heart thundering, her gaze locked on his mouth, and he smiled, a dark, dangerous curving of his lips that bared a flash of white teeth for but aninstant.
“You crave my touch.” Not a question. She was glad. She had no breath left to form ananswer.
Taking his weight on his outstretched arms and flattened palms, he leaned in and brushed her lips with his, soft, gentle. Their bodies touched nowhere but their lips and she was undone by thatcaress.
Fire roared through her veins. She was so focused on him that the world beyond faded away tonothing.
His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, and when she gasped in shock, he pushed inside, his tongueinsideher, tasting her,touchingher.
She moaned, stunned by the wild kaleidoscope of sensation, endlesslywondrous.
Winding her arms around his neck she tunneled her fingers in his hair, enjoying the sensation of the silky strands running through her fingers. She kissed him back, following his lead. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his, then grew bolder, stroking him and learning the feel of hismouth.
His weight came down on her, the lush heat of his body, making her blood rush and her belly dance with a low, humming ache. He curved his arms around her, one hand flat against the small of her back, the other cupping her bottom. She raised up on her toes, driven by instinct to mold herself to him, to fit every ridge and edge of him in the soft swells and dips of her body, his thighs hard against her own, his belly and chest taut where hers were soft. She found exquisite pleasure in the weight of him pressing her to the wall atherback.
He kissed her jaw, her neck, his mouth lingering on the pulse that beat there, his breathing ragged. Arching back, she offered herself, loving the sensation of his lips at her throat, his teeth grazing thetenderskin.
With a groan, he tensed then drew back, his eyes gone dark, the pupilsdilated.
Panting, she stared up at him, understanding neither herself in that moment nor the wild, turbulent, emotions rolling about inside her like heavy charcoal-limned clouds in astorm.
He meant to turn away. She sensed that. Meant to block out the wonderful connection that spun out between them, a glitteringthread.
“I feel as though I stand on the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping my cloak behind me, and if I can only find the will and courage to leap, I will fly,” she whispered. “Kiss me again, Killian. Makemefly.”
She was drunk on the taste of him, the feel of him, unlike anything she had everexperienced.
The look he turned on her was feral. Hungry. She thought he would plunder her, take her, drag her against him and kiss her in ways she was too untutored toimagine.
Yearning sluiced through her, feverbright.
And she thought her heart would break when he stepped away, mastering himself with visible effort, his cool mask sliding in place to obscure the burning heat she knew she had notmistaken.
“Sarah,” he rasped, his gaze locked on her throat, hot and dark. Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers. “Imustnot—”
He shook his head, and she felt lost, barren, already missing the connection that melted away. He brushed his thumb along her cheek and she ached to fling herselfagainsthim.
Rooted in place, she watched as he took a step toward the door, then paused to look back at her over his shoulder, his eyes gone flat and dark, fathomless, mysterious, too many secrets reflected back at her. She was so attuned to him in this impossible moment, shefeltthe leashed tensioninsidehim.