Unable to stop myself, I ran my fingertips over the cool smooth surface, marveling in the craftsmanship. As I moving closer, I accidentally brushed against Lord Alexander.
“It is perfection,” I whispered. “You can almost taste the fruit.”
“I agree, Miss Andrews.”
The urgency in his voice made me turn abruptly his way. He stood so close to me that my breasts brushed his chest. His hands settled on my hips, pulling me flush against his chest. “Forgive me,” he whispered as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to mine but not touching my lips yet. “But I must taste the fruit.”
I blessedly couldn’t read a hint of what was in his mind. I had no question what was in mine. Rather than speaking, I parted my lips and pressed my mouth to his. He groaned, wrapping his arms around me, crushing me against the hard length of his body.
His lips moved against mine then his tongue caressed my bottom lip. I gasped at the tingling sensation and his tongue delved further into my mouth, tangling hotly with my tongue. For a brief second I was shocked, but then the passion in him set me on fire and my entire being ached for more of his consuming heat.
I slid my hands up the hard planes of his chest, leaning into him more as I threaded my fingers into the black silk of his hair. I followed the lead of his tongue, moving with him and against him, feeling the magic and the power of desire sweep over me. The pressure and heat of his hands moved down my back then up my sides to settle against the swell of my breasts.
Groaning, I arched my back, searching to soothe the pulsing ache inside me. He broke off the kiss, breathing heavy. But I wanted more, needed more.
“Please,” I said, leaning into him, looking deeply into his drugging gaze.
His features seemed, harsh, fiercely intense with his passion. His voice was rough, strangely unsteady and vulnerable. “Please do or please don’t touch you as I so desperately need to do. Have so desperately needed to do for too long.”
“Please do,” I said.
“God help us both.”