Free It Happened One Bite by Lydia Dare

immediate danger. His nearness made the hair on her neck stand up. His breath across the shell of her ear made her shiver.
    Before she could blink, he had spun her around and into his arms, pulling her close against his body. She didn’t even protest. She didn’t even make a sound, aside from the choked little gasp that escaped her throat.
    “Ye promised ye wouldna hurt me,” she said, relieved her voice didn’t quaver.
    “ Am I hurting you?” he asked as his hand spread out on her back, his fingers splayed like fans. The clean scent of the tooth powder he’d already used teased her nose.
    “Nay,” she whispered in response.
    A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes. “I promised not to hurt you. I never promised not to kiss you.”
    Before she could protest, he claimed her mouth. He tasted of power, sinful and sweet. He softly teased her into opening her mouth so he could sweep inside. Blaire wanted to weep with the sheer pleasure of it. Where her lips were hesitant, his were fearless. He toyed with her like a cat with a mouse, leading her into temptation. His lips left hers to travel across her cheek and then down below her ear. She reached for his shoulders to steady herself when he gently nibbled on her neck.
    “A small taste, Miss Lindsay?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper by her ear.
    “What?” she asked, the beating of her heart pounding in her own ears so loudly that she couldn’t hear her own thoughts, much less his words. She desperately needed to get control of herself or she’d be completely lost.
    “A small sip of pleasure? Pray allow me to take—” His voice suddenly came to a halt. His hands extricated themselves from around her waist.
    With a heavy sigh, he held his hands out by his sides.
    “A simple no would have sufficed,” he muttered. His eyes were dark as night, betraying the surfeit of emotions that crossed his face. “You can remove the dagger from my person, Miss Lindsay,” he continued. His voice was much calmer than she’d imagined it would be when she’d pulled the small knife from its hiding place upon her body and pressed it to the side of his manhood, which swelled quite impressively against her belly.
    “Do no’ think ta distract me, Kettering,” she said, happy to hear that her voice was strong and composed. It was not what she felt inside at all.
    “Not a mistake I’ll make again, Miss Lindsay,” he grunted.
    “I certainly hope no’,” she said as she turned back toward the door. She reached for the handle and jerked the door so hard in her haste that it hit her in the head again. Then she tripped over her own two feet as she tried to walk from the room. When she slammed the door behind her, she was mortified to find that the skirt of her dress was caught between the door and the doorjamb. She gave it a healthy tug, pulling it free.
    “Damn it all ta hell,” she snapped.
    A chuckle sounded from the other side of the door, dark and silky, touching her as no other sound ever had.

Eight
    James chuckled as he heard Miss Lindsay stomp down the corridor. He still couldn’t quite believe the enchanting witch had actually pulled a dagger on him, and threatened to unman him with a flick of her wrist. Taming her would be rewarding in so many ways. He strode across the floor and retrieved the set of clothes the lad had left him. Brown doeskin breeches and a white shirt that felt soft against his skin.
    He pulled the shirt over his head, but he couldn’t get it over his shoulders. Good God. If the shirt was this tight, he wouldn’t have a prayer with the trousers. But he had to wear something , if just long enough to find something else a bit more suitable. Abandoning the shirt, he pulled the breeches up over his hips. He had no hope of fastening the buttons, and the legs almost reached his knees. James tugged the shirt back over his head and held it in front of his nether regions. After all, he couldn’t go traipsing through the castle on display. Miss Lindsay might