the whisky glass on the floor, and his knuckles grazed the slope of Juraâs bottom. Her hair tickled his skin. He could not resist wrapping a thick auburn tress of silken hair around his hand. âYou are the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on, do you know that? Iâm still not quite sure youâre real.â
âThatâs strange, because I was just thinking that you must have walked out of my dreams,â Jura replied. Her heart was racing. Her voice was no more than a whisper. She did not think of resisting. She did not even remind herself that there would be no harm.
âIâd like to be in your dreams,â Lawrence said, slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her to him, trapping her between his knees, âbut I can think of an even better place Iâd like to be.â
His slow, seductive smile was captivating. Jura had had no idea that temptation could be so delightful, wispy as spun sugar, heady as whisky and just as potent. Intoxicating. She leaned her hands on his shoulders, curling her fingers into the warmth of his skin beneath the fine cambric of his shirt. âWhere?â she asked, quite mesmerised, unaware that her mouth was tugged into a smile just as sensual as his. âWhere is it you want to be, Lawrence?â
âInside you.â
âOh!â Her knees gave way. She sank to the floor, unbelievably aroused by his words.
âIâve shocked you.â
Jura shook her head. His legs cradled her waist. âNot shocked. Onlyâ¦.â She trailed her fingers along his leather-clad flanks. She tilted up her head to meet those blue, blue eyes. âTell me. More.â
Lawrence caught his breath. Her smile was smoky. It stoked the fire which raged in his gut. He pulled her closer, burying his hand in the silken mass of her hair, inhaling the scent of her as he placed his mouth right next to her ear. âI want to taste you. I want to breathe you in. I want to feel your skin on mine. I want you to sheath me.â His thumb found the sensitive spot at her nape. Her breath was warm on his cheek. Her heart beat faster than his, he could feel it through the bodice of her dress. He licked the lobe of her ear, tasted the skin behind it. âI want all of you. Me inside you. You inside me.â He was astonished by his own words, spoken without thinking, yet spoken with utter conviction. âSay you want me in the same way. Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. Say it, Jura,â he said, urgent now.
âI want you. Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh.â She spoke without hesitation. She heard the words, breathy, as if she had been running, as if someone else was speaking them, with no thought for the consequences.
âYou mean it?â Lawrence asked urgently. âBecause if you donâtâI can stop now, but if I kiss you, I donât thinkâ¦â
âI mean it. Kiss me, Lawrence.â
He was vaguely aware that this was different. Part of him doubted it could even be happening. Part of him thought he was still wandering the woods in the dark and the snow, lost and hallucinating. He didnât care. He kissed her.
She tasted exotic and familiar, like ripe fruit dusted with cinnamon. He kissed her slowly, drinking in the nectar of her as if imbibing a potion. Her lips softened under his. Lawrence drank more deeply. The tip of her tongue flicked into the corners of his mouth, over his bottom lip, sending the blood surging to his groin.
He pulled her closer, but the arms of the chair got in the way, so he sank down onto the floor beside her, to the woven rug in front of the fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back as passionately as he kissed her. He thrust his tongue into the delightful heat of her mouth. He was hard. Completely aroused. He felt rampant.
Jura shuddered as his hand closed around her breast through the rough wool of her gown. The thrust of his tongue deep into her mouth made her arch against