The Temporary Mrs. King by Maureen Child

idea,” he murmured, his gaze moving over her features like a starving man seeing a banquet spread out in front of him. “Don’t think.”
    He bent and took her mouth again. This time he was hungrier than before because this time, he knew what he would find. Knew the taste of her, the feel of her. This time when she moved into him and parted her lips for his tongue, he was prepared for the jolt of heat that nearly staggered him.
    He rushed toward the edge of his already tattered control. She was warm and luscious and her passion fired his own. Kissing her before had been a revelation. Kissing her this time was a confirmation of everything he had experienced earlier. The feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue, her sweet breath sighing into him all gathered into a tight ball of lust that seemed to grow with every passing second. He couldn’t ease back, though he knew he should.
    This hadn’t been part of the deal. This instantaneous explosion of need was like nothing he had ever known before. If he had felt like this with anyone else, he’d have taken her to bed and kept her there until the heat between them burned out. But that wasn’t an option and damned if he knew what to do about it.
    While his body raged, firing into desire, his mind shouted for caution. Control. He had given his word. And he would keep it, he assured himself as he delved deeper into her mouth, taking all she offered, giving her all he had. But for now, this moment, he needed what they’d found together.
    He jerked her in closer, his arms coming around her like steel bands. Her breasts pressed to his chest, he feltthe wild racing of her heart and knew… knew …that she was feeling everything he was.
    That knowledge gave him silent permission to feel more. He swept one hand to the zipper at the back of her gown and when she moaned into his mouth, he pulled that zipper down. An inch. Two inches. Just enough to loosen the bodice of her gown so that he could…
    He gently lowered the top of her dress to bare her breasts. Then he tore his mouth from hers and bent to take first one pebbled, rose-colored nipple and then the other into his mouth.
    She sucked in a gulp of air and shivered in reaction. Her voice was hardly more than a hush as she cried, “Sean!”
    His chest tightened, his groin was so hard and heavy he winced from the pain, but didn’t stop what he was doing. Couldn’t stop. He reveled in her every gasp and sigh. Gloried in the taste and feel of her nipples in his mouth. He ran the edges of his teeth across those sensitive tips and felt her tremble.
    Melinda’s hands gripped his shoulders as she arched into him, offering him easier access. He took it. With one hand, he caressed and tweaked one nipple while his mouth and tongue and teeth tormented the other. He felt as though he could never touch her enough. Desire ratcheted up inside him. Hunger gnawed at him and his body ached for completion.
    Moonlight played across her skin and the murmur of voices and the muted strains of music coming from the ballroom behind them became nothing more than a vaguely acknowledged distraction from what was most important. The heat sweeping from her body to his and back again.
    Sean felt her sighs ripple through her and straight into him. She shivered, and he knew it was his touch, not thecool breeze, that was affecting her. Her fingers combed through his hair as she held his head to her breasts. Every gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp sent electrical buzzes through his brain, his body.
    He’d never wanted any woman the way he wanted Melinda Stanford… King .
    That thought jolted him out of the haze of desire fogging his mind. She was his wife. The wife he’d promised to leave the hell alone. And he was practically taking her here on a balcony with her damn grandfather in the next room.
    Muffling a tight groan, he called on the self-control he had been honing all of his life