Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“I would.”
“You are so sure?”
“Absolutely, and I can prove it.”
“Please do.”
He brought his face close to hers. “It was best we remained back to front in bed or else the temptation of your hard nipples pressing into my chest and your lips, so damn rosy and plump for kissing would be too damn hard to ignore. And once I started kissing you, I wouldn’t stop and you would not want me to stop. Then we would have a much bigger problem.”
His warm breath fanned her face and tickled her senses, or was it his words that had her senses befuddled? Why did her skin tingle? She had never experienced such odd sensations with Owen, but then Owen had never even held her hand. Surely, she would feel the same if—
“Oh,” she sighed when suddenly an exquisite throb started between her legs. She had felt it on occasion and had talked with one of the nuns about it, thinking there had been something wrong with her. The nun had explained that it was a wicked feeling and that she must ignore it. Never. Never must she surrender to it. The only time surrender was permitted was when she wed and wanted to make a child with her husband. She had wondered if they had told her the truth, and then one day a woman, round with child, had come to the abbey. The nuns had told her that the woman had not ignored the wickedness when it had hit her, and she was now carrying a bastard child. Her family sent her away to have the babe, and the babe would be given to a peasant family to raise, and she would be forced to take her vows at the abbey. The birth had been a difficult one and the woman and child had died. The nuns had said it was for the best.
It had upset Wintra for she found it a constant battle to fight the wicked feeling that so often overcame her. She had gotten on her knees and prayed, each and every time the feeling had snuck up on her, until it went away, though it had returned again and again. She had done a lot of praying on her knees. But this—this—felt so heavenly that she could not understand how it could be considered wicked.
His lips brushed hers and the throb increased.
“One taste, just one taste,” Torr said more to himself than to Wintra. He had warned himself against it, but he couldn’t resist. He needed just one taste to satisfy his curiosity, and then it would be done. He brushed his lips across hers, and damn if they didn’t intoxicate. He had to taste her, he simply had to.
As soon as his lips touched hers the throb turned to a merciless beat and the nuns’ endless warnings echoed in her head.
Wicked. Wicked. Wicked. Stop!
“Stop!” It was as if the word shot from her mind to her lips.
Torr snapped his head back, her sharp yell feeling like a stinging blow.
“Do not kiss me. Y-y-you have no right,” she said stumbling on her words while her chest heaved heavily.
He was no novice when it came to kissing or making love to women. He could tell when a woman was willing and when passion had taken hold of her. Passion had budded in Wintra, but he was not the man she loved.
She turned around without saying a word and lay still. She was relieved that Torr did not reach out and touch her. She feared that if he did she would surrender to the wickedness. And for a moment the memory of that poor woman’s continuous cries of pain as she tried so hard to bring her babe into the world surfaced to haunt and warn.
What also disturbed her was the thought that she had been about to surrender so easily to Torr, a complete stranger. Was she one of those women the nuns told her about? The ones who would succumb to the wickedness and spread their legs for any man, even complete strangers?
Wintra hurried to silently recite prayer after prayer. As she did, she began to shiver, not from the cold, for she was still warm from his kisses, but from fear of how she so easily could have surrendered to this man. Another shiver, a stronger one, hit her, thinking of how horrible the consequences could have been. And she promised herself she would never, ever let it happen again.
By how stiff she lay beside him, Torr knew she would not want him to touch her. But she had shivered too often and this last one had quivered her body much too hard. She still held a chill. She needed warming.
He reached out and grabbed quick hold of her, securing his arms over hers as he drew her back against him. She struggled as he expected she would, and he rested his legs over hers to stop her from thrashing about.