‘There are many ways to kiss,piccolina. Would you like me to show you?’
‘Yes,’ she said. Because tonight she would say yes to all the things she knew she shouldn’t.
She closed her eyes. Anticipation thrummed through her. Quickened her pulse. Her breathing. Every nerve-ending was shredded. Exposed.
She should feel ridiculous, standing here in a charity shop ball gown. But she didn’t. She felt...seen.Wanted in a way she’d never been wanted.For herself.For the woman she was daring to be here, on top of the concrete jungle of London, in this secret oasis of lush green, of such opulence she could almost taste it.
Taste him.
His hands slid to the back of her neck, drawing her in closer. She didn’t open her eyes. She just let herselffeel. The pressure of his thumbs on her face. His palms warm against her throat. The heat of his chest against hers. The whisper of his breath against her lips. Sweet. Spiced.
Thunder roared through her, loud and alive, as he captured her mouth with his. His lips were silk against hers. Soft, but firm. Gentle, yet demanding. She opened for him. Let his tongue inside.
A sound burst from her lips. A gasp—a moan. He swiped his tongue inside her mouth as if to taste it. She copied him. Teasing her tongue against his. And the moan she tasted in her mouth this time was his. A guttural noise from deep in his chest.
It tasted...powerful.
She kissed him harder. Mimicking him. Pressing her lips to his. She slid her tongue into his mouth. Her hips instinctively pushed against him. She felt him harden.
He tore his mouth from hers and dipped his head to the underside of her ear and whispered, ‘Has someone kissed you here?’
His breath tickled at her skin, bringing it to life beneath his words. ‘No,’ she said huskily. A low heat dragged through her stomach, and it was getting heavier as he lingered on her throat.
His tongue flicked against her skin. ‘Would you like to be?’
‘Yes, please.’
His hands moved to cup her cheeks, holding her steady as he moved into the crook of her neck, millimetre by millimetre, and blew.
Warm, cold, electrified, she gasped, ‘Oh...’
He sucked her skin into his mouth. Harder. Deeper. Her breathing sped up, her heart thumped, but the need for more was overwhelming. The pangs in her stomach told her there was more, and she needed to demand it.
Her hands bit into his shoulders. ‘Please...’ she murmured.
He dragged his kiss down the length of her throat. ‘More?’
‘Please!’she begged, and she didn’t care. She’d worry about it later. Tomorrow.
His hands moved over her body, finding her breasts. He palmed them, cupping their heaviness, and swiped over her tender nipples.
Flora pressed her thighs together to stem the ache. The chaotic need to find release. ‘More,’ she breathed.‘More!’
And he didn’t deny her. He pulled down the top of her dress, exposing her breasts to the cool night’s air, and his head descended. The heat of his mouth was on her, taking her nipple into his mouth—
‘Oh, my God!’ she cried out, her body pulsing, throbbing, as he sucked harder. Deeper.
He flicked his tongue over her nipple and the ache between her legs intensified. Muted everything but what he was doing to her body. He stopped kissing her breast, moved his mouth slowly over her chest and back up her throat, recaptured her lips. Roughly.Urgently.
He slipped his hand inside the slit of her dress that started just below her hipbone and feathered his fingertips along her inner thigh. A moan erupted in her throat. He pulled his hand from between her thighs to grip her hips. He cradled them in the arch of his and walked her backwards. Step by step. Until her back met a wall.
Her bare breasts pushed against the smooth fabric of his shirt, and she rubbed them against him. She felt feral.Wild.
He tore his mouth from hers. His breathing as ragged as her own, he said, ‘Not here.’
Her fingers clenched around his muscular upper arms. ‘But—’ Her grip loosened, and she swallowed down the words in her mouth, because the desire to strip naked beneath the stars and push her body against his felt too wanton to say out loud.
‘But what?’ he pushed, his voice a hoarse rasp.
