M L Sparrow

Here's a quick excerpt!

 

“Elira,” her name from his lips was a verbal caress, “look at me.” It was an order and a plea, and he waited patiently for her to comply. When she did his lips curled up in an almost wistful smile, as one hand rose to cup her cheek, “Such beautiful green eyes.” Helplessly, she could do nothing but look back at him. “I don’t care what society thinks,” he reiterated after a pause, his words none the less powerful for being so softly uttered, “I want you and I think you want me too.”

Overwhelmed, Elira blinked back tears and when she spoke, her voice was raspy from withholding the emotions that welled up inside of her. “I don’t want to be your mistress, I don’t want to be just something to pass the time,” she whispered, before swallowing tightly and gathering all of her courage to ask, “You could have any woman you want. They throw themselves at your feet, I’ve seen them, so why do you want me?”

“Because you aren’t throwing yourself at me,” – the words hit her like a blow; he wanted her because he enjoyed the chase – “you are so different from any woman I’ve ever known.” Studying her face, as a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye to roll down her cheek, he made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, removing his hand from her face so that he could run it through his dark hair.

“I’m saying this all wrong,” he bit out, almost angrily and her heart skipped a beat, not in fear, but because this man, who was usually so smooth and charming, was at a loss for words. Transferring both his large hands to her shoulders, he held her firmly as if afraid she’d slip from his grasp, like water in the cupped hands of a child.

“You intrigue me,” he admitted, “everything about you is contradictory. And maybe I don’t know you well enough to love you yet, but I feel something right here,” taking her hand he smoothed it flat over the pounding of his heart, his skin shedding heat like an open furnace, “and I’ll be damned if I never get the chance to discover why you make me feel like this.”

As he spoke, his mouth descended to hers, until they were a mere hairsbreadth apart. His breath was heavy with anticipation, panting like he’d just run a race. Wiping away a tear with his fingertips, he cupped her face as delicately as if she were made of glass, before pressing his lips to hers in a soft, closed mouthed kiss. His lips lingered over hers for only a moment, before moving up to press another against her forehead, with such care that her heart ripped wide open.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, drawing her attention to the tears that ran silently down her face, “I won’t hurt you.” Kissing away her tears, chasing the coldness with the damp heat of his tongue, his hands soothed her as he ran them over her body, urging her closer until it felt as if she could just melt into him.

Clasping her arms, he pulled back and her entire body trembled, whimpering at the loss. For a moment he studied her face with vulnerable eyes and she felt an odd pull inside of her. She wasn’t sure who moved first, all she knew was that their mouths were suddenly melded together, their tongues twining in a feverish mating. Above her head a sprig of mistletoe grew from the ceiling, followed by another and another, until the entire ceiling was a forest of green leaves and white berries.  

Later she would feel ashamed at the way she’d wantonly rubbed up against him, like a cat in heat, but in that moment she couldn’t get close enough to satisfy the craving burning deep inside her. Instinctively, her hands rose to link around his neck, her fingers threading through the hair at his nape, soft as silk, tempting her to run her fingers through it, which was exactly what she did. He groaned into her mouth and she returned it with a whimper of need, arching up to him, even as he backed her against the closed door, pushing her into the wood as his weight settled against her. Breaking away, his mouth left a burning trail along her jaw and down the vulnerable column of her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her fluttering pulse.

Completely overcome by sensation, all her sensibilities left her and she threw her head to allow him better access, her mouth opening to allow the gasps and moans to escape unhindered.

One arm unwrapped from around her waist and his hand rose to spread itself against the bare skin of her throat, slowly sliding down, giving her time to retreat, but she didn’t and his fingers deftly undid the row of buttons and slipped inside. His hand moulded and shaped her soft flesh, gently squeezing the sensitive peaks, sending shafts of fire searing through her blood stream.

Rocking up onto her toes, she wiggled against him in an attempt to ease the unfamiliar ache in her loins. Bending down, he nuzzled the jut of her collar bones, pushing aside the gaping material of her new dress, until he could trace the dip between her breasts, his warm breath awakening every nerve in her body.

Only the thin material of her chemise separated them, but it did a good job and Anthony growled in frustration, unable to push it down because of the dress still clinched around her waist by the laces at the small of her back and unable to slip his hand beneath it without contorting his arm into an impossible position. Abandoning that venture, he stepped away and her hands instantly reached for him, clutching his lapels to draw him back, but he didn’t go far. Grasping her waist, he lifted her to him, one hand running down her back and over the curve of her bottom to the back of her knee. Hitching her leg up, he leant her against the door once more, pressing into her harder than before, his hips grinding between her legs, right where she needed them to. Grabbing handfuls of her dress, he yanked the material up, over her stockings until he encountered the bare skin of her thighs. Rubbing his palm over her soft skin, he made a desperate noise in the back of his throat, his hips pressing harder as his lips reclaimed hers.                     

An almighty crash from behind the door jolted them both apart.

 

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