She Was Going to Kill Him If She Kept Doing That
Good god, but did this woman even understand what that look in her sultry eyes would do to a man?
It was all he could do to keep holding her hand instead of turning her against the lampost and lifting her skirts, right here in the middle of the street.
Feeling the soft skin of her decolletage was making him wild. Hell, he doubted his ability to last once he unlaced her stays.
Christ, but women’s petticoats were a labyrinthine hassle of epic proportions! His hands shook as he struggled not to tear them ferociously from her sinful curves.
Her sweet violet scent was smothering him in lust. He didn’t think he could wait one more moment to have her.
Damnation, but that feathering flicker of her tongue would be the ruin of him.
A man could get lost in that sweet honeyed heaven betwixt her thighs. He didn’t trust himself to enter her, but delaying was torture.