All The Ways To Ruin A Rogue(60)

            Then his mouth found hers.

            He swallowed her cry, crouching in one quick motion and lifting her off her slippered feet so that their fused mouths were the same level. It was exhilarating. No standing on tiptoes. Her hands framed his face, holding him as they kissed. No. More than kissed. His mouth ravaged hers in a collision of lips, tongue, and faintly scraping teeth.

            She slid her hands from his face and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, hanging on for the tumultuous ride.

            They were moving. Aurelia was faintly conscious of that. She didn’t open her eyes to look. She was too lost, reveling in his tongue in her mouth, his fingers diving into her hair, scattering pins.

            She gave the scarcest grunt when he backed her against the garden wall, his big hands firmly gripping her bottom. The sound didn’t even give him pause. No. He didn’t ease the pressure of his mouth on hers one tiny bit.

            His kiss was hot and aggressive, punishing on her tingling lips. She felt him everywhere and this was only a kiss. Good heavens. What would it be like to have him? Fully? To come together as a man and woman?

            “Is this what you wanted?” he growled against her lips. “Have I convinced you I’m not pretending?”

            She whimpered against his mouth and adjusted her arms, practically crawling higher up his body, parting her legs for him to settle between her thighs. He pushed his hips into her and she moaned, shifting slightly so that the core of her met the hard thrust of him. All her womanly parts melted to warm butter.

            She longed to feel him there without the barrier of clothing. He increased the pressure of his mouth on hers, his body rocking and grinding into her until she wanted to tear their garments off. It was that or die from this exquisite torture.

            She kissed him desperately, out of breath and drowning. Coherent words were beyond her. She could only gasp his name as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. “Max.”

            He pulled back, and she chased his lips for a moment, gradually focusing on his eyes flashing with enough heat to incinerate her. “Well. There. Can you say you despise me now? A woman doesn’t kiss a man like that if she hates him.”

            She giggled nervously and squeezed out between him and the gate wall, trying not to reveal how shaken she was. “Your arrogance knows no bounds.”

            “It’s not arrogance. You kissed me—”

            “I beg your pardon? You kissed me just now,” she corrected him, shaking her head.

            He shrugged. “Whoever moved in first—”

            “You moved first.” The distinction was important. She stabbed him in the chest with the tip of her finger. “You won’t twist what happened to suit you . . . to cover your shame. You came after me. You kissed me.”

            A muscle feathered across his jaw. “Very well. I moved first.”

            She sniffed, mollified. And yet he didn’t back away. She sucked in a breath. His proximity made her dizzy. It was tempting to grab him and continue where they had left off. His gaze dipped again, brushing over the low-cut bodice of her gown.

            “And,” he added, “there was no shame in that kiss.” His voice deepened to a rumble. “I liked it.” His gaze crawled over her face in the moonlit garden, missing nothing, inching over her eyebrows, down the slope of her nose, and stopping at her lips. “You liked it, too.”

            She moistened her lips, her heart stuttering as his eyes followed the movement of her tongue.

            “We were once friends.” He angled his head, his gaze drifting back up to her eyes. “Sometimes I forget that.”

            “Me, too,” she whispered. A long moment passed as they stared at each other. Perhaps truly seeing one another for the first time.