Читать книгу Cinders to Satin - Fern Michaels - Страница 2

His hand glided down her elegant throat, paving the way for his lips. He wanted to kiss all of her, to taste her inch by inch, taking her between his lips, his teeth, nibbling and feeding his appetite for her.

Her nightgown parted beneath his fingers; he pushed it aside, baring the hollow of her neck and the soft roundness of her shoulder. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, heard a faint moaning sound and knew that she was as close to the edge of the great abyss as he was. He meant to carry her up and over with him, falling, falling, into a place where the hungers of the body would be met.

He was pleased to know he was affecting her with his caresses, drawing her into the swift currents of passion . . .