She was putting too much thought into this. If she didn’t get out of her head it was never going to happen. “Liza could come back at any moment.”
He sauntered across the room with the confidence of a wild jungle cat. “It would be rather hypocritical of her to tattle on you, don’t you think?”
Why did she shut the door? Closing herself in with him felt like a mistake. But as long as they were behind closed doors, no one would know what they’d done, and that—strangely—felt right. Something inside of her demanded this moment stay a secret.
That peculiar sense of wrongness called to her, but she still wasn’t sure Peter was the right man. Her inexperience and curiosity scrambled her instincts. She wanted to be kissed. The end. It was time.
“Just a kiss.” She sensed he wanted more, but those secret parts of herself were not for him.
“That’s all I need.” The walls closed in around her as his long shadow blocked the filtered moonlight. The heat of his body warmed her front. “I’m very confident I could surpass your standards once you let down your guard.”
She could not shake the need for caution.
His hand pressed into the door, just beside her head, and her shoulders drew back, but there was nowhere for her to go. He had her pinned. “Tell me you want it.”
“I don’t know what I want,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She only understood this great desire for more.
His hand pressed to her stomach, forcing her spine flat against the door. “What do you feel here—where a woman’s desire grows?”
She felt lots of things. Fear, curiosity, wanderlust, and things she had no name for. Her pulse skipped wildly as shivers danced across her skin. Fate seemed to pull her in toward something unknown.
She leaned in and whispered, “I feel too many things at once.”
“Good. That’s how it should be—confusing and exciting—terrifying and exhilarating.”
The sash of her robe loosened, and cool air needled the thin material of her nightgown as a reminder of impropriety. Despite Peter’s boyish playfulness, he possessed the unmistakable entitlement of a man, and she could not underestimate how dangerous he could be.
His warm fingers curled ever so slightly around her ribs, and her nipples tightened. Painfully aware of her unbound breasts, a mere inch above his touch, she tried not to breathe.
“Show me you're not a priss,” he challenged, closing the distance and sliding his hand higher.
Warm lips pressed into hers, firm then soft and coaxing. Adrenaline spiked in her blood, and her nerves tingled as his tongue swept into her mouth. Her eyes stayed wide as he moaned, then he pulled away before she even had a chance to enjoy what was happening.
Disoriented, she frowned.
“Just as I thought,” he said, tasting his lower lip.
“What is it?”
He sucked his lip and frowned. “You taste like innocence.”
Her heart stopped as mortification drowned her. She ruined it. Why would she think she could impress a man when she had no experience?
Then his gaze met hers, exhilarating promise hiding in the jade pools of his stare. He wasn’t mocking her at all. “I can help you, Wendy. I can teach you. I could show every kind of kiss.”
“There are others?”
A wicked grin curled his mouth. “There are many.” He leaned close, a deep chuckle tickling her ear as he caught her earlobe between his lips and nibbled. “There’s necking.”
Shivers chased up her neck, racing down her spine until her bare toes curled against the wood floor. How could her ears feel so much?
His lips trailed over her racing pulse, and her breasts heaved with every nervous breath. His hand dragged upward, cupping her possessively.
“Then there’s suckling.” His thumb slowly treaded over the sharp tip of her nipple.
She should stop him. She knew better than to let him touch her so freely, but she wanted to know everything. She was sick of feeling ignorant. As a woman, she would need to know such things. But when his touch trailed lower, she whimpered.
“Peter…”
