Just A Kiss

somewhere in Europe, 1802 - -

Soft, She hadn't expected soft; or pliant, or hypnotizing. 'Lizbeth Rebekka D'Orcy tilted her head back to better see the outlines of his face.  The lantern light fickered over a very male countenance, his cheeks and chin now bearing a dusting of beard from the late hour.  Thick, dark lashes made halfmoons on high cheekbones but she knew he was watching her beneath the appeared nonchalance.

The lips moved, slightly pursing, drawing her eyes once again to her problem.  His tongue peeked out, moistening, tempting, before disappearing.  She thought she saw the corners of his mouth edge upward into a satisfied smile before she blinked the inage away.

She leaned downward again, her lips barely brushing against his.  The touch made her heart race, made her blood sing.  How foolish that such a small thing could affect her so.  She felt his warm breath against her cheek.

"Again, Kitten. No kiss is a simple touch of lips. How are you to become a tigress?" Marcus Greysteel held himself still. She was skittish, innocent, but he had succeeded in tweaking her curiousity. He could feel her suppressed excitement, the untried passion.  He need now only put it to use to free himself.

A quick galance to his extended arms and legs reassured her he was still securely bound to the four corners of the small gypsy wagon.  The men in their camp had not decided what to do about his sudden appearance in their midst.  Taking him by surprise, they had spread-eagled him thus until morning.

It was only a rough jest that had ended with herself thrust into the wagon for the night also.  Refusing Raoul's teasing advances for the tenth time had been the last straw. He'd tumbled her onto the stranger's restrained body and locked the door.

Raoul's departing words brought a flush to her cheeks. "Enough of innocence, Kitten. He's harmless as a tabby and he's yours for the night. Take him. Touch him, play with him, enjoy what a man is about. I'll expect a tigress by morn." He'd roared with laughter as he departed.

There wasn't room in the small space to not touch him. She'd tried to curl away from the masculine presence but it was impossible. Then he'd begun to talk to her.

"What does he expect, Kitten? Have you never felt of a man? Kissed a man?"

When she hadn't answered, her body aware of his every slight movement, he'd continued. "At least allow me to be your first true kiss. I cannot escape the bonds, you know, so you are completely safe." He'd sighed at her lack of words. "You cannot sleep as you are. Lie down beside me, against me, relax. Then all you need do, if you so wish, is lean forward and place your lips against mine. I'm not so bad. Other ladies rather fancy me. It's just a kiss."

And here she weas as in a dream, wanting to wantonly possess those wonderful lips of his again. What was wrong with her? Her tongue had touched his mouth and his lips parted just a bit. Somehow - had he stretched upward or had she accomplished the act on her own - they met. He drank her in, nibbling, cajoling her to give more. Oh, God in heaven, how sweet!

Before she knew it her hand had cupped his cheek; then her fingers were in his thick dark hari. She broke the contact, needing to breathe. He kissed the corners of her mouth, pulling her lower lip with his teeth.

She felt her breasts swell against his chest - how had she gotten in that position? An ache centered low in her belly and spread to where his maleness had hardened and now pressed against her.

Belatedly she realized she was nestled between his spread legs. With a gasp she retreated, staring down at him.

"Kiss me again. I need you to kiss me again." He shifted somehow and she felt her nipples tighten even more.

With a soft moan her mouth sought his again. He devoured her, seducing, savoring her soft mews of need. When he was able, he turned his head to run his tongue into the tiny swirls of her ear. His voice a rough rasp, he whispered what he'd like to do to her, how beautiful she was.

"If you'd cut me free I could love you properly. I want to show you the wonders of a man and a woman." His hips thrust upward and felt her natural instinct fit her closer against him. "Loosen my hands."

Rebekka came back to her senses. Free him? That was all he wanted? Were all men alike - selfish in their needs - thinking only of themselves? Her body trembling with both unfulfilled desire and now anger she pushed away from what promised her heaven.