Free Daring Passion by Katherine Kingston Page A

big hands cradled her hips. She reached
out to touch his chest. Muscle quivered under her questing fingers. His skin
was warm and resilient.
    Something made her heart beat more rapidly and her breath
begin to pick up speed. Fear, no doubt. He could crush her with one hand, did
he so will, and he might just when he learned who she was and why she did this.
But if it were fear, it seemed to be affecting him too. He gasped a sharp,
harsh sound when she moved the hand resting on his chest, and the tip of one
finger touched his nipple.
    “It appears you have no weapon, as you said, madam,” he
conceded after his breath had resumed its rhythm. “Yet, do I mistrust—” He
broke off sharply. She’d run her fingers along his throat, up the jaw and over
to his lips. He finished with a muffled oath that appeared to be a concession
as well as an expression of annoyance.
    She moved a finger to his lips. “Hush, my lord,” she said.
“There’s no harm to you in what I do.” She moved the finger gently, brushing it
back and forth across his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue rasped across
the end of her finger. It sent warm tingles racing down her arm. Her breath
caught in surprise at the pleasurable feeling.
    His cheeks were bristly with whiskers when she cupped them
in her hands. It tingled in her palms and sent a wave of heat rushing over her
skin. With the tip of one finger, she traced the line of his temple and jaw.
She’d never touched a man in such a way before. The strength of the bone and
the feel of his flesh set off a fluttering in her stomach.
    Anne wanted to lean down and kiss him, but her married
sister had warned her not to. She’d said Anne would risk losing control of the
situation if she kissed him too soon.
    “Use your hands for as long as possible,” her sister had
advised. “Rub and caress to drive him wild.” Juliana had gone on to give Anne a
graphic explanation of how and where to touch him for maximum effect. For Anne
the details had been quite astonishing. She was eager to see the reality of
what had been described.
    She let her hands roam down along his throat, feeling the
beat of his pulse in the hollow at the base. He tensed and she wondered if he
expected her to wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze. Surely he’d realize
she wouldn’t dare. She couldn’t hope to match her strength against his. After a
moment he relaxed. Muscles in his shoulders and arms rippled as she stroked
them.
    She spread her hands across his chest, resting the palms of
her hands on his nipples. His breath caught in a sharp gasp. The tips beaded
up, just as hers did when a chill hit. But his sat atop a layer of hard muscle
rather than on the soft pillows of breasts as hers did. She liked the feel of
his chest, the suggestion of strength beneath the skin.
    When she rubbed in gentle, circular motions, he made a sound
deep in his throat that was half growl and half groan. His breath caught again
when she stroked her fingers across the nipples. Almost, he sounded as if he
were in pain. She strained to see his face in the darkness. His features were
drawn tight, mouth clamped shut and eyes narrowed.
    Her sister had warned he’d act as though he were in pain,
but in truth it was intense pleasure that looked like pain. Anne couldn’t
imagine how that could be, but she assumed her sister knew the truth from
experience. Here she saw it confirmed, for surely he would have stopped her if
what she did hurt him. Her sister swore ladies could also find such pleasure.
Anne found that even harder to believe.
    She explored further, moving her hands down his chest and
across his flat stomach, again marveling at the tight, hard muscle. No soft
belly on this knight. He seemed to be holding his breath as her fingers reached
the edge of the sheet covering the lower half of his body.
    She drew a deep breath, steeling herself to encounter the
most alien and intriguing aspect of a man. A bulge just below the edge of the
sheet gave hint