Captive of Sin - Page 50

He stood motionless under her clumsy, passionate assault. Fiery pleasure streaked through him like summer lightning. Automatically his hands tightened around her waist, and he tugged her closer.

For one blazing second, he lost himself in the sizzling kiss. Darkness. Pleasure. Sweetness. Heat.

His blood pumped, his skin burned. His mouth moved in cautious answer to her furious, unpracticed ardor. He couldn’t mistake her inexperience, or her passion. He guessed she had no idea what she invited when she launched herself at him.

If he’d been a normal man.

Although right now, he damn well felt like a normal man. He felt like a man overcome with lust. A man who kissed the woman he wanted more than his life.

Clamoring questions exploded in his mind. Had a miracle occurred? Had incendiary desire at last vanquished the ghosts of Rangapindhi?

His starved senses filled with the glory of her. The clinging pressure of her grip around his neck. Her soft breasts crushed to his chest. The carnation scent. The taste of her mouth. Fresh like the sea. Hot like fire.

The warmth was delicious. Astonishing.

He moved his lips in a more purposeful response. A shudder of excitement rippled through her, and she pressed closer. He surrendered to overwhelming pleasure.

It was too late.

Savage, rending wraiths clawed to the surface. The firm youthful flesh under his palms turned cold and slimy. The lush mouth pressed against his stretched into a rictus grin. The sweet scents of flowers and the sea drowned in stinking decay.

Frantically, he fought the suffocating blackness. Don’t let this happen now. Dear God, not now. Not when he had her in his arms at last.

His muscles spasmed into pain. The nightmare images stole awareness. He wrenched his mouth from hers. He shook like a rabid dog. “Let me go,” he choked out.

She didn’t seem to hear. Instead, she moved closer.

He couldn’t endure this. He had to stop it.

“Damn it, I said let me go,” he snarled. With unsteady hands, he ruthlessly dragged her arms from around his neck.

She resisted, though it must hurt her. “No. Please, Gideon, no.”

His voice broke with desperation. “For God’s sake, Sarah, leave me be!”

Through the devils screeching in his head, he felt her sudden stillness. She pulled back far enough for him to catch the bright agony in her eyes. And the gradually dawning realization that he was in earnest.

Still, she didn’t release him.

With sudden roughness, he heaved her out of his way and headed for the stairs. He needed air. He needed solitude. His gut heaved with acrid nausea. His hands shook so badly, he couldn’t trust himself to pick up the candles.

“Wait.”

He tried to ignore her ragged plea. Every particle of his being craved escape.

“Please don’t go like this.” Through the buzzing in his ears, he heard her rush after him. Against his will he stopped, hunching his shoulders against her.

“Never do that again.” His voice was hoarse and raw. His fists opened and closed in an idiot rhythm at his sides.

“I don’t understand.”

The bewildered despair in her words harrowed his heart. He wounded her and he regretted it to the base of his soul.

Oh, Sarah, Sarah, what have you done with your recklessness?

“I know you don’t.” He still couldn’t bear to look at her. He could hardly bear to breathe the same air. “I don’t either, not really.”

He ached all over

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
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