I wanted him. He wanted me back. I was free. He was sending me away. Merrick entered before I had even moved to don my night shirt. He was wearing his robe, the hood down. I exhaled in relief when he pulled me against him and tenderly sealed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around him and clung to him as tightly as I could, and a thrill went through me when at last I felt the evidence of his arousal against me. He wanted me. And I had never felt so drunk on anything in my life. The cloth fell from my shoulders and he lifted me easily to lay me back on the bed. His mouth moved intently down my body, finding every sweet spot to tease and torment as I shifted and gasped beneath him. He lifted his head and loomed over me then, his hand working between my legs. His amber eyes flashed in the candlelight. “Your robe, sir,” I breathed, feeling the heat in my cheeks as I felt it through my body. My fingers caught the material to pull it from his shoulders, but he moved back from my hands.
