Soulbound (Darkest London 6) - Page 42

“I do not believe in soul mates,” she said. “I do not believe that this attraction we feel has anything to do with fate or anything deeper than a simple surface interest. Mine based on the fact that you come wrapped in a pleasing package, and yours perhaps due to some misplaced gratitude because you suddenly feel something you’ve been denied for hundreds of years.” When he kept on watching her with that self-same, easy smile and heated want, she stomped her foot. “We’ve been at odds since we met.”

“You are correct,” he said. “I’ve fostered an intense dislike of you for the past year and a half.”

That ought not to sting. But it did.

He wasn’t finished, however. “I like you better now.”

Horribly, she liked him better too. Somehow he’d drifted closer without her knowing it. Stopping beside her, he leaned his hips against the windowsill and crossed his arms over his chest. The stance ought to have diminished him. It only made his shoulders appear broader and highlighted the bulge of his biceps beneath his plain coat.

“You should kiss me,” he said.

The breath left her body in a rush of air and a raspy “What?”

His gaze drifted to her lips. “How else are we to know? Kiss me. And find out if your want of me crumbles to dust or grows.”

A gentle throbbing started low in her belly, traveling downward. They stood so close, a handspan apart, close enough that his smoky scent and powerful warmth enveloped her, compelling her to move closer still. She planted her feet, refusing to give in.

His hands grasped the edges of the sill, holding it tight, as though he needed an anchor as well. “You’ll be in control. I’ll not touch you, nor try to stop you from pulling away. I vow it.” He spoke softly, forcing her to strain her ears and edge toward him. “Put your lips to mine, sweet dove. See if you like my taste.”

Her mouth went dry, her lips parting. She wanted. She wanted. It was perverse, this need. He’d chained her, kept her at his side without a care of how she’d felt about the situation. To even consider this…

Her heart beat hard and strong within her chest. Adam’s own chest rose and fell with greater speed. Half-sitting as he was upon the wide windowsill, they were nearly eye to eye.

Trying to buy time, Eliza looked him over with a deliberately bland expression. “Was this entire conversation simply a trick to get me to kiss you?”

He grinned again, the pink tip of his tongue just visible between his even teeth. “Absolutely.”

“I thought you did not want to kiss me.” Eliza scowled at the memory of him outright rejecting her.

“That was before. This is now,” he answered easily. “Now, I want that kiss.” On a deep breath, his lids lowered, his gaze somnolent and hot on her mouth, his voice rough and urgent. “Kiss me, Eliza.”

She was going to. She had no resistance when it came to him. This close, he seemed immense. Not just in size, but in presence. Vitality sparked along his skin, drawing her like a magnet to his firm flesh.

Not daring to meet his gaze, she studied his mouth. It tempted her. So finely shaped, the upper lip just slightly bigger than the bottom, as if it were swollen. Dark stubble of the day’s growth framed that soft mouth of his, and she wanted to feel the different textures of his skin. As if bidden, her fingertips drifted up and grazed along his chin, just beneath his lower lip. Rough, silken.

His breath visibly hitched, and a puff of warmth escaped him and ghosted over her skin. Her hand slid down to his chest to press against the rapid beat of his heart. And then she was closer.

Their lips nearly touched, but he halted. “I’ve not done this before, so you’ll —” His breath caught when, unable to resist, she brushed her lips against his, the contact fleeting but capturing all of her attention. A spark of heat lit through her. She wanted more. “Have to…” He groaned, opening his mouth to let her lap at his upper lip with the tip of her tongue. “Guide me.”

Part of her had kissed him simply to shut him up, call his bluff. And yet… A whimper of want echoed in her mouth as she leaned into him, her lips melding with his. Heat and need suffused her, as she delved farther into the warm depths of his mouth. He tasted divine.

That she knew more than he, that she was teaching him, gave her a heady, erotic, little thrill. Eliza tilted her head, the tips of her fingers cradling his jaw as she enjoyed his mouth. He made a murmur of approval, his slick tongue twining with hers. A quick study. Adam’s breath came in disjointed pants, his lips following hers, seeking and nuzzling.

How very good it felt to kiss this man. Her head swam with pleasure, and she pressed her body into his, until there was no space between them. The hard length of his cock seemed to throb against her lower belly. And Eliza moaned.

At the sound, tremors rent Adam’s body and his mouth surged forward, capturing her lower lip in a suckling kiss. “Let me touch you,” he whispered, tasting her mouth in a series of urgent nibbles. “Let me, Eliza. Release me.”

She wanted that. Her skin seemed to stretch and tighten with the need to feel his hands upon it. But it wouldn’t end there. She’d soon want him inside of her, filling her up. Madness. Her mouth shaped the word even as she kissed him. “No.”

A half laugh, half groan left him. “Evil, wee besom.”

She could not help but smile against his mouth. “Wiley, wicked demon.”

He huffed, and she pulled back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, the lush curve of his top lip touching hers. Little shivers of pleasure danced along her spine as he spoke. “I told you, dove. I’m no demon.”

Tags: Kristen Callihan Darkest London Romance
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