Meg’s lips parted in surprise. He dropped his hands to her hips and jerked her forward, sliding her across the bench. Her palms flattened against his chest, but she was helpless to stop his mouth from crushing to hers.
Hard and bruising, the kiss was completely different from the soft pecks Mathew had given her. Fear gave way to desire, desire to know more, taste more. She felt as if she were falling, falling into a dark, deep pit of sinful seduction.
His tongue slipped across her lips and she opened her mouth with a whimper. His hands slid up her waist, cupping the weight of her breasts. A heated ache swirled in the pit of her belly, seeping into the space between her legs. Meg’s whimpers turned to moans and she sank into his hard body. She’d had no idea a kiss could make a person feel this way. She knew it was wrong, dear God, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to pull away.
His fingers curled into her hair, cupping the back of her head and deepening the kiss, while his other hand reached around her back and pressed her closer. Her breasts crushed indecently to his hard chest. Instantly her nipples hardened and her breasts grew heavy. She realized with a start, that she was on his lap although how she had gotten there, she had no idea.
And then his velvet tongue rubbed against her own and she no longer cared about propriety. She no longer cared over the fact that she was a vicar’s daughter. Tentatively, she kissed him back. He tasted like scotch and mint and something intimate that could only be him. He groaned low in his throat and his hands moved down to cup her bottom. When he drew her closer she felt the proof of his desire, his steely erection, pressed to her thighs.
The sensations didn’t frighten her as they should have. No, if anything Meg felt an odd thrilling need sweep through her body. Her fingers curled into his chest and anxiety warred with need, need for something...anything to alleviate the ache.
The desire to beg for more formed on her parted lips. When his fingers dug into her hair and he jerked her head back, she had to remind herself that he wouldn’t hurt her.
Her neck exposed, he pressed his cold mouth to her sensitive skin. Meg shivered, a small gasp escaping her lips as his hand slowly moved up her leg, underneath her nightgown, touching the sensitive skin of her outer thigh. Her mind screamed at her to stop him, knowing he’d ruin her, but her body wouldn’t obey. His hand moved higher… higher. God save her, but she pressed closer to him.
His teeth scraped against her neck. There was a sharp sting, as if he’d scratched the flesh. Meg stiffened, confused with this love play. Then she felt his tongue, like damp velvet, drag across the wound. His body seemed to grow harder. Emotions she’d never felt washed through Meg …desire…fear…need. Mostly, need. Need to be closer to him. Need to have more.
Grayson shuddered almost violently and suddenly, he stumbled back. Meg fumbled to regain her balance, pressing her hands to the bench. Lord, what had just happened? Grayson stood on the other side of the room, his wide gaze locked on her as if she were the very devil. His eyes…those eyes glowed. She wasn’t imagining it now. The heat in her body was doused. Horrified, she pressed her hand to her neck where the skin pulsed.
“What are you?” she whispered.
“Go,” he snapped, turning so his back was to her.
Meg stood, her legs trembling and tears burning her eyes. Dear God, she’d become a harlot. She should run, yet, she couldn’t. As horrified as she was, she wanted to go to him, to demand answers, to comfort him for some reason. Hesitantly, she stepped forward.
He spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Go!”
Fear replaced any compassion. Meg choked on a sob and raced from the room.
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Other books by Lori Brighton:
The Night Series:
A Night of Secrets
The Wild Series:
Wild Heart
Wild Desire
The Seduction Series:
To Seduce an Earl
Contemporary Paranormal:
The Ghost Hunter
Young Adult:
The Mind Readers
Lori Brighton, To Seduce an Earl
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