Paladin103

Sophia nuzzled his face, her soft, warm lips lingering against his. Eyes closed, he kissed her repeatedly, gentle at times and claiming at others. All the while he kept her in his grasp and attempted to memorize her shape and smell.

He wouldn't let her go, not ever. She fit perfectly in his arms, tasted like what he'd always craved. He'd never known how soft and comfortable a woman's touch was compared to his own, never guessed that his lips could capture moans. Everything about this woman he thought he knew was a mystery.

"You're so warm," she murmured. "Like sunlight. Only better."

"Better?" He turned his head to the side and kissed her deeply, finding the perfect angle to fit his lips over hers.

"Because I can touch you as well."

He needed more of her to fill the empty spaces he'd forgotten still existed within him. Since he'd first met her it felt as though one by one they were disappearing. Loneliness no longer plagued him.

Fingers splayed, his hand traveled up her back to her shoulders and the nape of her neck where he stroked the baby fine hair. She gripped his arms and swallowed, which was all the encouragement he needed to kiss her harder.

Passion jerked to life as she ran her tongue along his lips. He'd never experienced anything that gave him chills and at the same time filled him with raging fire, but he knew there was more—much more than he'd ever imagined.

His finger traced along the back of her neck and caressed both flesh and the golden chain. He delved lower until he felt the first silk-covered button. Wicked thoughts entered his mind and he wondered if her back was as soft and smooth as her dress. Softer, he guessed, but it wasn't enough to guess. He needed to know.

Blindly he pushed the button through the delicate loop and dipped his finger down her back. Her hands squeezed his shoulders and she opened her mouth wider. Their tongues touched, making him aware of an uncomfortable and growing erection. He needed her attention, needed her to bring him relief. Gently he grasped her hand to guide her to him, to show her what she did to him.

The wind unexpectedly howled outside and Sophia jerked her head back, apparently startled.

"I thought it was…them."

Her eyes widened and she licked her lips as she took a step back. He could almost see sensibility settling onto her visage as she smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat. The room grew a hundred times hotter and he tugged at his cravat but found no relief—anywhere at all, it seemed.

"Shall we enjoy dessert here or in the parlor?" she questioned.

"It doesn't matter." As far as he was concerned, dessert was wherever Sophia existed.

She nodded and glanced down his body. Before she could speak her face turned bright red and she gasped. Almost instantly she busied her grasp with her necklace, which she twirled around her finger as she continued to stare at his trousers.

-o-

The first phrase that came to mind was that it wasn't polite to stare. Still, Sophia couldn't help herself. When she was four years old she'd shared baths with her brother but had since blocked those memories from her mind.

This one would not leave her willingly. She could have spent the better part of an hour imagining what he looked like beneath his clothing, but there was no mistaking he was most definitely male. Very, very, deliciously male.

"Sophia, I—"

"Would you care for coffee?" She coyly turned away and watched him from over her shoulder. "Or more wine?"

He shifted uncomfortably and briefly pursed his lips. "What are you drinking?"

"Coffee, I think."

"Then coffee for me, as well." He sounded breathless, as though suddenly the wind had been knocked from his lungs.

"Would you sit with me in the parlor? I think it would be more…" She glanced at his tented trousers and felt her face burn even hotter than before. "More comfortable."

He cleared his throat. "Comfortable. Yes."

Once she had overheard her brother and several of the stable boys saying that the "state of arousal" was uncomfortable and women put them into "awful heat". At the time she'd had no idea what they were talking about but she knew by instinct that she should never repeat their words to anyone at all, even if she did consider yelling to them to stand in the shade if they were so hot.

Now she realized it had nothing to do with the weather—and that women also experience the uncomfortable state of arousal. As they stood apart she could have sworn each heartbeat threatened to kill her. She wanted to feel him close to her again, to experience the intense flutter in her belly. Eventually the butterflies would need to be released…and she wanted Erik to do it for her.

"Are you certain you don't want me to carry the tray?" he asked.

"Honestly, it's not heavy."

With his hand at the small of her back he accompanied her into the parlor where he paused and quietly shut the door. Somehow, the closed door added to their intimacy in the empty house and her pulse quickened, anticipating another rush.

Once she placed the tray on the service table, she turned to face him but before she could turn he braced her in his arms. Still facing away, he pressed his body to hers and kissed the side of her neck. The slight tickle made her scrunch her shoulders, which only encouraged him to hold her tighter.

"This isn't fair," she giggled.

"I beg your pardon?" He blew in her ear and made her shiver. If she didn't know any better she would have sworn he did it on purpose.

"This," she replied as she pressed a kiss to his ear and reached back to caress his face. Her fingers grazed his ear and then his cheek and he grunted. His head jerked back, his grasp loosening.

Realizing his fears, she whirled around and cupped his face in her hands. She held his gaze, wanting him to see how much she needed him, needed this moment.

"You cannot kiss me," she said firmly. His lips parted as though he would protest, but before he was able to say a word she kissed him again.

"Sophia…"

"You cannot kiss me when I cannot kiss you back."

His expression softened and he nodded, lips curling in an easy smile. Arms linked around his neck, she kissed him again and felt him relax. It surprised her at how easy it was to hold and kiss him, as though this moment was meant to happen.

He groaned, a long and soft sound that echoed the pleasure she felt inside. Their tongues touched again, searched, played. It was much more enticing than she'd ever expected when she heard her cousin Meg whisper about kissing boys with her tongue. Sophia had always imagined it was much more like licking someone—sort of as a cat licked and cleaned its kitten. This, however, was velvety and seductive, a moist heat that made her long for more of the unknown.

Broad hands found her hips and gently squeezed her. A thrust of hips brought her closer and her heart stuttered at the feel of him—the very male feel of him—pressed against her belly. Seeing an outline of his excitement was one thing, but feeling him was quite another. She couldn't imagine how that thing could ever be comfortable, let alone pleasurable, to any part of her body. Just the thought of the long, hard appendage rubbing against her leg sounded like it would hurt.

She kissed him one last time, shifted a comfortable distance away, and awkwardly patted his shoulder. He didn't seem at all offended. Mesmerized, yes, but disappointed, no. Perhaps he experienced the same dizzying array of emotions that had rushed into her head.

"Sugar and milk?" she questioned.

"I'd rather kiss you again."

She flashed a devilish smile. "If you insist."

Then she kissed him again.