Get out the fireworks. And go over to my website and vote, people! Pictures of the giveaways and where you can vote are under the Introducing Erika Kire page.

NDBRs: Slight changes.

Paladin90

Sophia lost herself in his tender kiss. One moment he had gently pressed his lips to hers, the next his fingers were in her hair, brushing strands from her face as he kissed her cheek and then her throat.

His aggression left her breathless and waiting for more. A soft moan escaped her lips as he found a tender spot on her neck and lingered, his tongue tasting her. Goosebumps rose along her arms and she shivered in delight of his finding. Never before had she realized how sensitive her flesh was or how her insides tightened at the warmth of his soft, moist lips.

Everything she'd feared about Karl Turro she wanted to feel from Erik. It excited her, this feeling of total freedom and complete surrender.

Eyes closed, she grasped his arm and inhaled his masculine scent. She'd almost forgotten the light scent of pine that melded with the smell of ink on his fingers.

His hand awkwardly brushed against her breast and she inhaled sharply, surprised by the current that traveled through her body.

"Have I hurt you?" he questioned suddenly.

She shook her head and blinked at him. "Quite the opposite, I think," she answered. She swiftly looked away and felt her cheeks burn.

"I…um…I"

"If I am not allowed to apologize, then neither are you," she teased.

"Of course."

With a nervous smile he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her again, just as gently as he had the first time. A surge of energy traveled through her nerves and heated her blood. She couldn't remember ever feeling so completely terrified—yet enjoying each moment.

She closed her eyes and kissed him back until she felt the fever rise between their bodies, blocking out the cold spring night. He wrapped his arms around her and his tongue gently prodded her lips. Another soft groan escaped and lingered between them, and after a moment she wasn't sure if the sound had come from her mouth or his.

"Sophia," he whispered.

He kissed her cheek, his nose rubbing against hers. He grasped her tighter, crushed her breasts to his chest and parted her lips with his tongue.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed with the most delicious sensation of falling into his arms. And then, when it was too late, she realized that she was falling—directly off the fence.

With a yelp they tumbled over the low fence, their arms tangled around one another. He managed to twist enough so that she fell on top of him, her hair splashing over her shoulders to drape over his face and eyes.

"My God."

"I've hurt you."

"No, honestly you broke my fall. But I thought for certain that I'd murdered you."

"No, no you haven't," he coughed.

"I've crushed your lungs, at the least," she panted.

He blew air through his mouth and she saw his expression of complete mortification. "Your elbow is against my ribs, but you've hardly crushed my lungs."

She moved her elbow but made no attempt to sit up, mostly because he still held her tightly. A smile crossed her lips and she chuckled to herself.

"Shall I try again?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"To crush you. Perhaps if we fall from one of these trees we'll successfully kill each other."

He chuckled to himself and tilted his chin toward his chest. With a grimace he rubbed the back of his head.

"Are you bleeding?" She wrung her hands.

"No, I'm fine."

"I'm afraid you never suffered so much until you met me," she grinned, still mortified by their situation.

His expression sobered and he traced her jaw with his fingertips. "That isn't true at all."

"It was merely a joke. But honestly, if you think about it, I've broken glass on you and made you cut your hand. You came down with a fever the night I'd gone missing…"

"Sophia."

"I always thought I was a boring girl. Now I wish that was true."

"Listen to me." He paused and searched her face. His fingertip grazed her lips and made her smile. "I think I stopped suffering the day I met you."

Before she could speak, he kissed her nose and held her closer, pressing her cheek to the good half of his face.

"From the day I first stepped foot in Paris, my life became a living hell. One day I will…" he paused and she felt him tense. "It's not important now. At least not tonight."

He kissed her neck softly and breathed in her scent. "But now, when I see you, I feel as though I've been given a chance I don't deserve."

She wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "You deserve more than you give yourself credit for."

She gazed down at him in the darkness, barely able to make out his features. She imagined what he would look like in broad daylight, resting in the sun-warmed grass with his hands behind his head and his long legs stretched out. She could picture herself reclined in the grass with her hand on his chest as she listened to him breathe.

Without thinking she placed her hand on his cheek. He started to pull away but she kissed him and smiled against his lips.

"You make me feel safe," she whispered. "Unafraid of the dark."

"I feel comfortable in darkness," he replied.

"And I've always enjoyed the daytime."

He frowned at her, then looked away as she caressed his cheek. "You don't need to—"

"I want to. Unless it hurts you."

His eyes closed, his lips pressed tightly together. "I worry for you."

"I have my aunt and my brother to worry about me," she said, kissing him again. "I don't want you to worry."

His breathing turned harsh and he kissed her again, harder than before. A sigh escaped her lips as his hand brushed against her breast again and sent a wave of heat through her body. She wriggled beneath him, urgently seeking his touch.

His name emerged, a soft whisper on her lips and he held her tighter, his hands running down her spine. Suddenly his thigh was between hers, rubbing against her in a way she'd never felt before. At first she wanted to press against him, but she had no idea what would happen and it frightened her.

"Oh," she gasped.

He immediately loosened his grasp. "Sophia?"

"Oh, my. I—I think it's quite late now."

"Yes. Quite late," he reluctantly agreed.

"We don't want to get too carried away and…and improper. Do we?"

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "No. No, we don't."

As much as she wanted to enjoy the night with him, her good senses returned and she sat upright. Once she tugged him upright he captured her hand in his and brushed his thumb over her knuckles, which returned a spark to her insides and made her heart skip a beat.

"We should return," she suggested. "Auntie is probably waiting outside my bedroom door counting the minutes."

He helped her to stand and kissed her again on the lips. He pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders and rubbed her back, drawing her close in a warm embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"For being a gentleman."

He took her by the hand but didn't reply, and together they climbed over the fence. Once they reached the narrow path, Sophia heard a horse gallop up the driveway. She froze, her hand tightly squeezing his.

"Oh, no. It's Philippe," she whispered.