Page 17 of Night and Day

She looked up, her red lips parted.

How could I feel like I’d done this before? That I’d cupped her cheek a hundred times already? That she fit here against me perfectly?

I lowered my head. “I’m going to kiss you now, fairy queen.”

One of her hands gripped my waist, and her other one reached up and circled my wrist. “Do it.”

My mouth touched hers.

Her lips were soft and full. I teased mine along hers.

She made a hungry sound and went up on her toes. Her mouth opened and I took advantage. Deepening the kiss, I pulled in the taste of her. Dark temptation. I crushed her to me and she twined her arms around my neck.

Fuck. Violent need exploded inside me. I was a man who prided myself on control: in the boardroom, in the bedroom. I wasn’t ruled by my needs. I was nothing like the man who’d fathered me.

But right here, right now, there was only this woman. Nothing else existed.

She bit my bottom lip, her breathing fast.

More.

The word roared through my head. I spun her away from the railing and deeper into the shadows. The force of my kiss pushed her neck back, and I let my mouth travel over her jaw, down her neck. I scraped my teeth over her skin. She gasped, writhing against me.

My hands clenched on her. There was too much fucking dress.

I pinned her against the wall. Her cheeks were flushed, stark against her white skin and her lips were parted. Even though her face was covered by that mask, I saw the need in her eyes.

“I…don’t do this sort of thing,” she whispered.

“I don’t, either.” I let my hand skim up her arm. Her skin was satin-smooth. “Do you want me to stop?” It might kill me, but I’d do it.

She licked her lips. “Don’t stop.”

I gripped the straps of her dress and pushed them off her slim shoulders and bared two perfect breasts.

She gasped. I cupped them, watching her nipples harden. I ran my thumbs over them. They weren’t too big, or too small. They filled my palms perfectly.

“Oh, God,” she breathed.

“Not God, just me.” I bent and sucked one nipple into my mouth.

Her hands buried in my hair and tugged. My cock was so hard it hurt. I lapped at the small nub of her nipple, kneading her flesh, then moved to the other breast. I loved the sounds she was making.

I needed more.

I dropped to my knees.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was breathy.

I looked up at her. “Whatever I want. Which, right now, is fucking you with my tongue.”

Her chest hitched, which made her breasts jiggle.

Fuck. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

I pushed the tulle skirt aside and found the slit in the dress underneath it. I slid my hands up her bare thighs and found her underwear. Just a gossamer piece of black lace. I hooked my thumbs in the sides and skimmed them down her legs. I stuffed them in my pocket.