Sweet Anger(51)

“You have chocolate on your mouth,” he said softly.

She was enraptured by his eyes. The warm light from them seemed to shine over her whole being, inside and out. “Do I?”

“Uh-huh, right here.”

His finger lifted the speck of chocolate glaze from the corner of her mouth. He let it melt against the tip of his tongue. She watched his mouth, intrigued and aroused by its flagrant sensuality. Her eyes remained fastened on his lips as he settled his hands on her shoulders and drew her against him.

“Kari?” Her eyes slowly climbed his face until they met his.

“Hmm?”

“The first time I kissed you, you were unconscious. The second time I was so angry, I didn’t know whether to kiss you or throttle you. I was blinded by rage and hardly aware of what was happening.”

He moved his hands up to cup her cheeks between his palms. “Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to kiss when both of us know exactly what we’re doing?”





Chapter Nine





SHE REMAINED PERFECTLY STILL. SHE DIDN’T EVEN BLINK. He took off his glasses and laid them on the card table. Her cheeks were again cradled between his palms. They were warm. His fingertips were gentle as they skimmed over her cheekbones. The pads of his thumbs alternately stroked her lips.

His eyes were still open when hers finally gave up the fight and fluttered closed. Then she felt his breath on her lips. It was moist and warm and coffee-flavored. His lips hovered over hers for what seemed like a small eternity before he actually touched them.

Lips closed, he rubbed her mouth with his, back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. He made small nibbling motions, then lightly caught her lower lip between his teeth and laved it with his tongue.

Rockets exploded inside Kari’s head. Before, she had thought such reactions to a kiss belonged only in the movies. This was all new to her. Either she had been kissed by inordinately unimaginative men, or they had felt bound by some code of ethics that didn’t apply to Hunter.

Had she inspired men to give her protection rather than passion? Had she given the impression that there wasn’t a carnal side to Kari Stewart? Or had that part of her nature just been born? For the first time, she was being kissed like a woman, and by a man who knew how. Hunter made kissing a frankly sexual mating ritual.

He laid his lips against hers and pressed, withdrew, pressed again. Each time their mouths met, his lips were parted more, until she felt the damp heat of his mouth. She responded to it. Her lips opened to take it in.

All of him moved at once with perfect timing and coordination. His head tilted to one side. His mouth settled over hers and with the sweetest suction, fused them together. He gave her his tongue. His hands slid from her cheeks, down her arms, and around her back until she was being held in the warmest, closest embrace imaginable.

Her bare toes stubbed against his boots as she instinctively moved closer. No longer docile, her body was restless to know his. Her arms lifted and folded around his neck. She heard a growl of approval rumble in his chest.

God, she had needed this!

She loved being held like this, loved feeling defense-less and feminine against such maleness. He had carried the cool outdoors in with him. It clung to his clothes and hair and skin. What a delicious contrast to her sleepy warmth! His scent was distinctly masculine. It reminded her of lemon peels and wood smoke and crunching autumn leaves.

He was hard. She gloried in that evidence of his desire by cushioning it with her softness. At every point along their complementing bodies, she was electrically aware of the differences between them. The rasp of his beard against her chin and around her mouth was exciting.

Her mouth was being made love to by a wicked tongue. With each rowdy thrust her entire body reacted. Tiny pockets of desire burst inside her and leaked their liquid fire into her veins.

Then the tempo changed. The strokes of his tongue became disciplined and controlled. She wanted to feel its knowledgeable caress all over, on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. She wanted intercourse.

But when his hands untied the knot at her waist and the panels of the robe fell apart, she realized how far it was going and how soon she had lost control. She tensed. Her fingers dug into the back of his neck. Tearing her mouth free from his, she bowed her head against his chest.

“I only want to hold you against me, Kari.” His unsteady breath fanned the top of her head. “I want to feel you against me, but it will go no further than that. I swear it.”

Gradually her fingers relaxed. He tipped her head back with his finger beneath her chin. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was red and kiss-swollen and dewy. A pulse as rapid as his own vibrated in the hollow of her slender throat.