Free An Experienced Mistress by Bryn Donovan

wealth of hair up and away from the nape of her neck, coaxing it to fall forward over one shoulder. His fingertips traced light circles at the hairline where short, lighter tendrils, as wispy as gossamer, curled.
    His gaze slid to her face again. Her lips were half-parted, her eyes half-closed. As he touched her, her head inclined gracefully to one side. An almost involuntary movement, it seemed, to give him better access, inviting further attentions. God, she was lovely.
    Without even thinking, Will bent to touch his lips against the sweet curve of her exposed neck, a feather-kiss close to the ear.
    Genevieve started, her eyes darting to him.
    “I assumed that was the next step?”
    “Yes. You’re quite right,” she said. Her voice sounded softer now. “Kissing in—other places is an excellent precursor to kissing a woman on the mouth.”
    Will sat back and looked at her, taking her face gently between his two hands.
    Her gaze cast downward again.
    He understood the intimacy in moving slowly, so deliberately, and gazing in one another’s eyes. She was his mistress, not his lover; she didn’t owe him any glimpses into her soul.
    And yet he couldn’t help it. He wanted to look into her eyes again before they went any further.
    “Look at me,” he commanded. Genevieve raised her wide green eyes to meet his.
    She still had that same expression on her face, controlled and challenging. But as she blinked, he thought he saw a glimmer of something else—something more fragile, secretive.
    He leaned over to touch his lips to her temple. One of his hands slipped to her shoulder and rested there as he bent to kiss her earlobe. Then he couldn’t resist capturing that bit of tender flesh gently between his teeth, flicking his tongue against it even as he released the lobe again. She moved, her thigh rubbing against his own.
    His mouth went lower. For a long moment he pressed his lips to the place just under the hinge of her jaw. He felt her pulse there and was surprised to find it racing beneath her skin. He thought he felt a tremor in her breath.
    His own heartbeat quickened in response. Was it possible for him to elicit such a reaction so quickly? Surely she’d grown accustomed to such things. Then again, perhaps passion was in her nature; sensuality dictated this path that she’d taken in life.
    Will saw the creamy swell of her bosom, delineated so precisely against the bodice of glossy dark damask. To his delight, he noticed a faint smattering of freckles in the cleft between her breasts. She was no alabaster statue; she seemed as full of warmth and life as the sun-dappled countryside where she made her home. Did she have more freckles elsewhere, in places he couldn’t see?
    He drew the backs of his fingers across the peachy softness there, the lightest of caresses, as he placed an almost reverent kiss at the hollow of her throat. He felt her whole being shiver in reply. Her head tilted back in abandon. For Will, awe mingled with greed, an intoxicating combination.
    His mouth went to the side of her neck again. Now his kiss was open, rougher, the scrape of his teeth against the smooth flesh articulating his urgent but deep-rooted hunger. He coaxed his fingers just underneath the fabric of her bodice to sample more of the ripe curve there.
    His arm clutched around her, his fist behind the back of her head, as though he feared she might be taken from him. He reached his hand lower, along the lovely contour of her breast as he trailed demanding kisses down her décolletage. She seemed to undulate against him, bringing herself enticingly closer to his mouth.
    Thumbing the fabric out of the way, he exposed most of her breast. Freed from the constraints of the corset that urged it up and in, the flesh spilled outward. The perfect satiny weight seemed created to fill the cup of his hand, or perhaps his hand had been created to cherish it.
    The tip of his thumb swirled around the pink nipple. He realized now, the nipple was