Free By Design by Madeline Hunter

heart skip, and then race.
    “You have never wanted this before, either, have you? You are surprised. Not by my touch, but by the pleasure.”
    She pressed her eyes against his shoulder to hide her embarrassment. Rhys already knew this part of her better than she did.
    His head dipped. “Let us see how surprised I can make you.” His tongue flicked at her breast, tantalizing her with new excitements. She closed her eyes and tried to contain the delirium.
    He would not let her. He used his mouth and teeth to push her beyond all control.
    It almost happened. She almost drowned in it. Her body wanted to, and the rest of her had no voice. He beckoned her toward recklessness. The strong comfort of his arms and the knowing touch of his hands promised that the rest would be as wonderful as this.
    She believed it. For awhile longer she abandoned herself to it. To him.
    That caress again. Firm and possessive. Along her body, her stomach, her thighs. Reaching low and warming upher bare leg. Higher, creating pulsing trembles that made her ache. Higher. Warm and confident and knowing. Higher, until her whole body rocked with yearning.
    A touch. A gentle, masterful touch.
    One heavenly moment of incredible pleasure absorbed her, and then the ecstasy crumbled. Her body and soul recoiled from the sensation in horror. The pleasure turned dangerous. Instantly, with devastating clarity, she knew that she had gone too far. He had lured her in deeper than her past would let her go.
    She grasped his wrist and moved his hand away.
    He froze, still holding her to him.
    He touched her chin and made her look at him. “Why?”
    “You said that we would stop whenever I wanted to.”
    “I would have sworn that you did not want to.”
    “You know a woman's mind so well?” She disentangled herself and scooted away. She felt ridiculous. She hastened to relace her gown. “I offered one kiss only.”
    His gaze pierced her. “You offered more than that, pretty dove.”
    “Not what you sought.”
    He smiled and raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize for misunderstanding. The fault was mine.”
    She looked away and sighed. “Nay. It was mine.”
    The passion's memory still drenched them both, making things tremendously uncomfortable. She couldn't face him.
    One kiss. It was supposed to sever the connections born of last night's bath and bed. Instead it had intensified them, and woven new, stronger ones. She had traveled farther with Rhys in less than one day than she had thought herself capable of going with anyone, ever. That bewildered her.
    “I must go now.”
    He rose. “Nay. You offered me a kiss and I offered you a good meal. I will be back with it soon. It is the least I can do after you have been so generous.”
    She suspected that he mocked her. She couldn't really blame him. They were neither of them children, even if she had acted like a frightened one.
    “Are you saying that you still want me to stay for dinner?”
    He gave her a thoughtful look, as if he debated his response. “I find that I want you to stay as long as you choose to, Joan.”
    He walked to the house, leaving her alone. She was grateful he had left.
    She fought to shake off the confusion their lovemaking had evoked. She should leave before he returned. This house and garden were seductive. So, it turned out, was he. She hadn't expected that.
    She thought about what waited for her across the river. There wasn't really any choice but to go back today. He might tempt her from the poverty and worry, but never from the purpose and goal. It was why she lived now. Hot baths and feather beds would never assuage the spiritual needs. Even kisses of surprising pleasure could not do that. They might help her to forget for a while, but until she got justice she would know no peace.
    She had liked forgetting. She had not thought it possible. He had created a fantasy of pleasure that had obscured everything else. For a time. Up to a point.
    Boot steps paced from the house.