Free Too Great a Temptation by Alexandra Benedict Page B

Soon, though, his lips parted…
    Mirabelle thought her heart would stop.
    “Oh, Belle,” he whispered in a wretched groan, his lips brushing hers in soft whisks. “You’re going to destroy me.”
    A hot mouth pressed hard over hers.
    Blood roared in her ears, her heart pumped furiously. Hell’s fire, but the man tasted good. His mouth was burning and wild, his days-old stubble scraping back and forth along her cheeks and chin, adding to the frenzy of sensations already whipping around inside her.
    She didn’t think a kiss could feel this way. So good. So liberating. So intoxicating. She had never been kissed before. Well, there had been a few stolen kisses in her adolescent years, but nothing compared to what Damian was making her feel.
    She took in the heady scent of him. So masculine. So virile. His hands were all over her, roaming and caressing, stirring the heat in her belly.
    What a thrill! She gripped his robust neck, her fingers weaving through his thick mane, twisting around the ebony strands. Her other hand went to his chest, resting over a hard pectoral that jumped in response to her brazen touch.
    He groaned into her mouth. Skin, so hot, scorched her palm. The vibration of his heart thundered against her hand, and she sensed the tremors spread along her wrist, her forearm…
    A whip of heat lashed her skin, as his hand slipped boldly under her shirt, his fingers stroking the ridges of her spine in slow and tantalizing movements, making her shudder.
    Muscles taut and thrumming, she inhaled a sharp breath when his palm slipped over her waist and cupped her breast.
    At her gasp, his tongue dove into her mouth, brandishing, evoking a deep-rooted moan from her throat. Powerful fingers massaged and rubbed her swollen breast, his thumb swirling round and round over her tight and jutting nipple, so sensitive to his touch.
    She was sweating, her skin prickling with little goose bumps of desire. This has to stop! a voice cried inside her head. It’s madness!
    But she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted to tell the annoying little voice to hush, but then it shouted, You’re getting too close to him!
    Now that was a frightening thought.
    Panicked, Mirabelle pushed the navigator away.
    Damian was breathing hard. The sultry flame in his deep blue eyes impaled her and would likely haunt her for some time to come.
    She had to get out of the cabin. She had to get away from Damian.
    Mirabelle bolted, her body trembling, and dashed down the corridor. A hopeless wreck, she chastised herself over and over again for allowing the kiss to occur—for enjoying it so immensely.
    What if James or another tar had stumbled into the cabin? How could she have risked her very dream of becoming a seafarer—her heart, even—for one measly peck on the lips?
    Oh, who was she kidding? A peck on the lips? Measly? The kiss had been anything but. No wonder her brothers adored this sort of thing. Passion was nothing to scoff at, she’d just realized.
    Mirabelle burst out onto the deck, a gust of warm wind greeting her.
    A spring to her step, she headed aft, beneath the ropes and ratlines. She passed a few of the loyal tars, shuffling about, preparing the ship for the evening voyage under the boatswain’s command. At the helm, the quartermaster nodded to her in greeting, his hands locked on the steerage, as he navigated the vessel through calm waters.
    She paused at the stern and closed her eyes, trying to quiet her rumbling heartbeat, to ease the blood rushing through her veins. She was a mess. She was on fire. For the first time in her life she had lost control of her senses…and all because of Damian.
    He had kissed her? Quincy had vowed Damian wanted nothing to do with her. Evidently her youngest sibling was a terrible truth getter. Bloody hell. If her brothers ever found out, her goal of being a pirate would be smashed to bits. She couldn’t let that happen. She had come too far in her pursuit of seafaring to sabotage her own efforts by