Moonlight (4 page)

Her heart
skipped a beat.

She shook
her head.

“
No, not the kiss,” she said, her voice rising with her
excitement as she realised the key to unlocking his curse. “It’s my
feelings. It was how I felt when I looked at you that released you
then, and how I felt when you kissed me that broke the curse a
little more. A relative of mine cursed you because of love, perhaps
it takes love to lift that curse.”

His dark
eyes widened. “Love?”

She
nodded and stepped closer to him. If she was going insane, she no
longer cared. The thought that she could help this man that she
felt a growing attachment to compelled her to keep going. There was
something about him that had her captivated, lost. Her gaze fell to
his lips. She wanted to kiss him again. The memory of their kiss
last night had been burning at the back of her mind all day. She
was desperate to do it all over again.

“
I did not love the lady who cursed me. That is why she placed
this spell on me, so none but her could have me.” He drew her close
to him, until her hands pressed against his chest and she had to
tilt her head back to hold his gaze. There was dark fire in his
eyes, a hunger that matched her own. He dipped his head and she
closed her eyes when his lips met hers in a gentle kiss that
tickled and teased. She tiptoed, pressing her mouth harder against
his and deepening the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers,
his breath warm against her face. “Perhaps I might love you.
Perhaps it is my love freeing me.”

Love her?
Her heart beat painfully hard at that thought. What if he did love
her? Did she love him? She just didn’t know. She’d always thought
that love was something that challenged and had to be fought for.
She was willing to fight for Tristan, not only to free him, but to
have his arms around her.

“
Ashyln,” he whispered, low and promising of
passion.

When he
said her name like that, she didn’t want to think about the
consequences of anything that might happen tonight or tomorrow. She
wanted to give in to her desire to feel his hands on her body and
his lips against hers.

She
wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back in
invitation. He kissed her again, deeper this time and with so much
fire that her heart burst into flames. Her eyes closed and she
leaned into the kiss, her tongue tracing his lower lip and then
sliding into his mouth to meet his. He didn’t seem shocked by her
actions. She didn’t know how they’d kissed or made love two hundred
years ago, but he was about to find out how they did things in the
twenty first century. She didn’t know if he’d even made love. All
those tales of rakes meant some men must have had sex out of
wedlock. Tristan didn’t strike her as that type though.

His hand
was shaking when she took hold of it and there was a look in his
eyes that spoke of nerves. His smile trembled at the corners, his
breathing heavy.

She felt
a little naughty as she led him towards the house, intent on
getting him inside this time. He tugged on her hand when they
reached the door and she stopped to look back at him. The nerves in
his eyes were easily visible now as he glanced between her and the
house.

“
Come in,” she whispered, sweet and coaxing. His pupils
widened, darkening his eyes, and for a moment passion and hunger
overruled fear. “It’s not wrong.”

He
swallowed.

He was
such a contrast to the man who had stood in this same spot the
night before and kissed her with such force and aggression. No one
had ever kissed her like that. That passion was in him somewhere,
restrained by nerves and propriety. She pulled gently on his hand
and he stumbled forwards a step.

“
I... we...”

“
We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she said,
hoping to calm him. His fingers tightened against hers. His eyes
darkened another notch. “We could just talk.”

Now he
looked disappointed.

She felt
it too.

Neither
of them wanted to talk. She wanted him and he wanted her. They were
two people attracted to each other. It was as simple as that. It
didn’t matter what era he came from or the curse her distant
relative had placed on him. All that mattered was that she felt
something for him, and he returned those feelings.

She took
a step back and was relieved when he followed again. His eyes went
wide when he stepped into the house. Had he never been in here
before? He’d said he couldn’t leave the garden. Perhaps he couldn’t
enter the house. Maybe this was another step towards breaking his
curse.

Her
father had once said that her mother had bewitched him. Had he been
telling the truth? Did the power that the woman who had cursed
Tristan had live on to this day in her and her sisters? She liked
to think that it did. The idea of being different to everyone else
was exciting.

She led
Tristan to the armchairs beside the fire. When she went to place
more logs onto it, he stopped her. He took two of the logs and
stacked them onto the fire and then stoked it with the poker. It
was nice to have a man to do that for her. It had been a long time
since she’d been with one. Decent single men were hard to come by.
She glanced at Tristan out of the corner of her eye. He sat down on
the armchair. She’d had to bring a statue to life in order to find
one.

He looked
up at her as she approached and frowned when she pushed his jacket
off his shoulders.

“
You look uncomfortable,” she whispered into his ear, letting
her cheek graze his.

He
shuddered against her. She smiled when he leaned forwards and
helped her remove his black jacket. She placed it over the tall
back of his chair.

“
Better,” she said and stood to look at him.

The
nerves were coming back. She could see them surfacing in his
eyes.

“
You want to talk?” she said and went to move away.

He caught
her wrist and tugged her towards him. She lost her footing and
ended up crashing down onto his lap.

“
Sorry,” he said and gave her an awkward smile.

She
giggled and stared into his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so
forward.”

He looked
mortified. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shuffled closer
to him on his lap. The mortified look disappeared along with any
sign of nerves. His gaze fell to her lips. Leaning over, she kissed
him slow and soft, her lips barely touching his with each movement.
His breath trembled against her mouth and the hard beat of his
heart pounded against her palms when she pressed her hands against
his chest.

Surprise
filled her when his hands claimed her waist and pulled her closer
still, until she had to twist on his lap to face him. Straddling
would have been easier, but she got the impression he’d run a mile
if she did that right now.

Her
fingers found the collar of his shirt and she risked running them
down the open V of it. His breathing roughened and his fingertips
pressed into her side, clutching her tight. She traced patterns
against his silken hard chest and sighed into his mouth. He felt
good for a statue.

She
couldn’t believe that she’d brought him to life again. She’d freed
him this far, she was intent on freeing him completely. If that
meant she had to love him and he her, she was willing to go that
far. She was rapidly realising that her feelings ran deeper than
she’d originally thought. There was a chance that she loved
him.

“
Tristan?” she said, drawing back a little so she could see his
eyes. They were rich chocolate brown in the warm firelight, his
skin golden and alluring.

“
Yes,” he husked, not taking his eyes off her mouth.

“
Just this.” She leaned back, caught hold of his shirt, and
tugged it up.

His eyes
widened a moment and he looked down. She didn’t stop. She pulled
his shirt up and slid her hands beneath it. His muscles tensed
below her wandering fingers and she moaned internally at the feel
of them and his warm skin.

“
You are very forward,” he whispered.

She
looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. He liked
her being forward.

“
Things are different now. Lovers get up to all kinds of stuff
that you probably think is taboo.” She pulled his shirt up higher.
He raised his arms and she smiled at how one moment he was telling
her she was forward as though he wasn’t going to do anything with
her, and the next he was going along with it.

“
Lovers?” he said as she tossed his shirt onto the
floor.

Her hands
recaptured the toned planes of his chest and stomach, exploring
them.

“
Lovers,” she whispered against his lips and kissed him again,
her palms pressing into his chest.

Before he
could touch her again, she moved backwards on his lap and bent
over, peppering his shoulders with wet open-mouthed kisses. She
licked and kissed her way over his collarbone and up his jugular to
his ear, where she sucked on his lobe and elicited a moan from him,
and then down towards his chest. She flicked his left nipple with
her tongue and then traced the shape of his pectorals with her
tongue. He tasted warm and sweet, fuelling her hunger for
him.

Sliding
off his lap, she knelt on the floor between his feet and kissed
down his stomach. He moaned again. Out of the corner of her eye she
saw his hand grasp the arm of the chair and his knuckles whitened
with the strength of his grip. She smiled against his stomach and
kissed a little lower.

He
shifted backwards.

“
Wait!” he said in a strangled voice.

She
looked up, wide eyed and innocent. He was starting to presume
things now. Perhaps people in his era had been naughtier than she’d
thought. He still didn’t strike her as the kind that had
experienced such things though.

“
What?” she whispered up at him, her fingertips tracing
patterns on his stomach muscles.

“
I know what you are going to do.”

She
smiled. Every other man on the planet wouldn’t have stopped her. He
was so sweetly chivalrous.

“
You don’t want to?” She sat back on her heels. If he didn’t,
she’d happily spend the evening kissing him instead. He seemed
comfortable enough with that.

He
hesitated.

A guilty
flicker in his eyes said that he did want to.

Waiting
for him to answer, she removed her jumper and tossed it onto the
empty armchair. The fire was hot enough, but kissing Tristan had
set her burning so fiercely that she was flushed. She adjusted the
straps of her black camisole top and then turned back to face
Tristan. He was staring at her chest.

“
Is that underwear?” His mouth was agape.

She
laughed. “No. Women wear clothing like this now. It’s hot and I
don’t want to boil to death in that jumper.”

He
swallowed hard.

“
Where was I?” she said, voice low and sultry, and knelt before
him again. Her hands ran up the length of his thighs towards his
hips. She felt them shaking.

Her eyes
held his, waiting for his answer.

He was
silent. The material of the armchair creaked under the pressure of
his fingertips as he gripped it harder.

“
Here?” she said and pressed a kiss to the left of his navel
and then another to the top of the line of dark hair that led
downwards into his trousers.

When she
looked up at him, he nodded. She dipped her head again and kissed a
little lower. He sighed shakily and she glanced up to see he had
his eyes closed again. His head pressed into the back of the
armchair. Every muscle tensed before her eyes when she reached the
waist of his trousers.

She
paused and looked down at them, at the hard outline of his erection
pressed against the black material. Her eyes flicked to the
fastenings.

Her
eyebrow rose.

“
Erm... how the hell do you open these?” She laughed at how
dumb she sounded. She’d never encountered trousers that didn’t have
a fly.

His hands
trembled as he undid them for her and then froze over his crotch.
She looked up to meet his eyes. They were wide again and the edge
of fear was back. Taking hold of his hands, she smiled warmly at
him and slowly removed them. Her own hands shook when she opened
his trousers and freed his erection. It lay against his stomach in
a nest of dark curls, hard and long, begging her to touch it. She
took a deep breath and then leaned over.

He made a
garbled noise of protest that she ignored. The only way to conquer
fear was to face it. It was time he learned that and how
pleasurable it could be to have a woman’s mouth on him.

She
kissed gently up his length and then took hold of it. She pulled
down to reveal the sensitive crown and ran her tongue over it. He
groaned and grasped the arms of the chair again. His legs shook
against her. She licked again, eliciting another moan from him that
made her smile. If he was moaning now, he’d be dying in a
second.