Page 70 of Seducing the Knave
“’Cause I want ye to,” he answered in a heavy whisper. “And ye know ye want to, as well,” he murmured.
Elle made a soft, strangled sound in her throat that was quickly smothered as she shifted position.
He was trying to think of what he could say that might get through her stubborn resistance when she quietly rose from the sofa. The fading firelight glinted in her golden hair and cast her white-gowned figure in a soft silhouette, showing off her lovely curves. Fucking stunning.
When she started toward him, his breath stalled sharply in his chest and every drop of blood in his body rushed to his cock. He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning out loud.
But then she stopped. One step away from his bed. Beyond his reach.
While his heart thundered and everything in him tensed to leap up and haul her down to the bed with him, he remained still. Still...even as her gaze traveled down the length of his body and he hardened to the point of pain while his pulse filled his ears.
Then she lifted her chin to that haughty angle he adored so much before she stepped forward and lifted the edge of the sheets to slide between them.
Chapter Nineteen
Elle’s heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint. Who was this bold woman climbing into her lover’s bed? Taking what she wanted without apology? Claiming a new destiny?
It was her. And she’d never felt so alive in her life.
She’d recently come to terms with something very important. The existence she’d always envisioned was no longer hers. And she had absolutely no idea what the future might hold for her. So, she was going to live in the present. Which meant she needed to start being more truthful with herself and stop resisting the rare pleasures the world might still afford her.
And Max Owen—with his glinting gaze, confident touch, and roguish arrogance—was a pleasure she simply didn’t wish to deny herself. Perhaps in part because she knew it was not likely to last nearly as long as she’d wish it could. She wasn’t so foolish to think she could indulge in the wickedness this man promised with his sinful smiles and mind-shattering kisses without a significant risk to her well-being.
He was a knave. The kind of man who could easily ensnare a woman with the pleasures of his touch then leave her aching for more as he jauntily walked away. Her time with him was fated to be fleeting.
Fleeting but wonderful.
She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes when she slipped into bed beside him. And as he lay back on the bed, she propped herself on her elbow to look down at him.
He was silent and still and she couldn’t keep her gaze from roaming over him. His body was too perfect. Strong and lean and laid out before her like a gift. She wanted to smooth her hands over every inch of him. But first, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted the taste of his desire on her tongue and the rough rasp of his breath against her skin.
Strangely, though she’d been brave enough to get this far, she wasn’t quite sure now how to take this further. All she could do was stare down at him while her breath shortened with wanting.
When her languid focus returned to his sinfully handsome face, it was to see his heavy-lidded gaze gliding along the slope of her throat to where the wide neckline of her nightgown had slipped down, baring her shoulder. When his gaze lowered to the full curves of her breasts barely concealed by soft cotton, heat rushed through her fiercely enough to draw a swift breath through her parted lips. But her gasp did not disturb him, and even though the tips of her breasts were inches away from the heat of his body and the feel of his gaze upon them triggered a rush of tingling sparks through her blood, she didn’t move.
Nor did she move when he slowly reached for the ribbons securing the gown. A brief tug loosened the neckline even further. In a slow, deliberate caress, he dragged the soft material down her arm.