She had heard him correctly.
“You want to kiss me?” she repeated, feeling foolish for even asking that question and for the flutter that picked up in her stomach.
That small grin appeared again. “I do.” He paused. “Very badly.”
The flutter now moved to her chest and felt like a nest of butterflies was going to beat its way out. “It’s the dress, isn’t it?” she said, half joking.
“It is.” He lifted one hand and placed just the tip of his finger on the black lace that rested against her shoulder. The light touch caused the muscles in her stomach and much, much lower to tighten. “And it’s so much more than that.”
“Really? How so?”
He slowly, so damn slowly, dragged his finger down the collar. “Do I really need to explain why I want to kiss you?”
“Considering just a few days ago you said that the idea—”
“I know what I said,” he cut in, and his finger reached the swell of her breast. Her entire body jerked as a sweet, heady flush invaded her system. “That was a lie.”
She was finding it difficult to get enough air into her lungs, and she was totally blaming the corset for that.
“So, what do you think?” He dragged his finger to the center of her bodice, to where her breasts met. An ache filled her, potent and swift as he curled his finger over the center of her dress, tugging lightly on it. His lashes lifted and those remarkable eyes pierced hers. “About my condition?”
Never in a million years did Rosie think she’d be in this situation. Not even in her most out-there, impossible fantasies could she have dreamt up this moment with Devlin de Vincent.
And she had some pretty far-out-there fantasies. One involved a Santa suit, but she wasn’t going to focus on that at this moment.
From the moment he walked in this room, everything had turned surreal. The fact that they weren’t at each other’s throats and he’d shared something so personal with her was testimony of how bizarre tonight was turning out to be, so why was she so shocked that he wanted to kiss her?
Tonight was . . . it was just different.
Her gaze roamed over his face. Maybe it was the masks. As stupid as that sounded, it made her feel like it wasn’t really them. She wasn’t sure why, but the only thing she did know was that, despite all the things they’d said to each other, she wanted to kiss him.
And Rosie had learned a long time ago to do what you wanted before you didn’t have a chance to do it again.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I agree to your condition.”
Devlin held very still, his breath dancing over her lips. “Then do it.”
Her stomach pitched as if she were on a roller coaster about to plummet down a steep hill. Placing her hand on the bed, she leaned in and tilted her head. A stuttered heartbeat later, her lips touched his. It was just the lightest brush of her lips against his, but he made this sound that sent a wild, hot shiver through her. It came from the back of his throat, a deep groan that curled her toes inside her heels. His lips were soft and firm, and when she touched the tip of her tongue to the seam of his mouth, he opened for her.
Rosie shuddered as her tongue touched his. He tasted of bourbon, and while she wasn’t a whiskey girl, she found that he tasted delicious. Sinful. Wicked. Slowly, she lifted her hand and placed it against his hard chest. She swore she could feel his heart beating under her palm. The moment she touched him, everything changed about the kiss.
Rosie might’ve started the kiss, but Devlin now had complete and utter control.
He deepened the kiss, tasting her just like she’d done to him. One hand slipped under the weight of her hair, curling around the nape of her neck, and those deep, slow, nerve-frying kisses changed. There was a barely restrained hunger to how he moved his mouth over hers, as if he was barely holding back.
Another shudder rolled its way through her as heat simmered low in her stomach. Dizzy and breathless, she moaned into his mouth as her fingers curled around the front of his shirt. He kissed her as if he wouldn’t allow a single part of her to be left unexplored.
The way he kissed wrecked her.
Then the hand that was against the center of her breasts moved, dragging over the swell of her breast. Her body reacted, she pressed into his palm, suddenly, desperately wanting more.
He made that sound again and he broke the kiss. “Rosie,” he sighed against her mouth. “What are you?”
She didn’t understand that question, but it didn’t matter, because he was kissing her and kissing her until the thrumming in her core spread and her entire body pounded.
His fingers brushed over the tip of her breast and her back arched. She did what she’d wanted to do since she saw him in her apartment. She lifted her hand and sifted her fingers through his hair. The strands were soft, not at all stiff, and longer than expected. How he got them to stay back without some sort of stiff product was beyond her, but she was grateful for it, dragging her fingers through the hair, tugging on the ends as she reached the back of his head.
She was drowning in his kisses, falling so far, and she could feel him tumbling in behind her. The kisses were becoming frantic, deeper, and rougher. She pulled on his hair again.
Devlin groaned, baring his teeth as he pulled back. The mask he was wearing was still in place, and those pale eyes burned. “I do not think my condition is going to cut it.”
Swaying slightly, she held on to him as his finger moved back and forth over her breast. “It’s not?”
“No.” The one word was harsh, guttural. It sent a thrill down her spine. “I want to make an amendment to the condition.”
Through half-hooded eyes, she stared back at him and spoke in a voice that sounded husky. “What kind of amendment?”
“I need more than a kiss.”
Her heart rate tripled as she slid her hand out of his hair, vaguely pleased to see it mussed. “Do you have any idea of what you would need?”
He pulled his hand around from her breast. “I have so many ideas.”
This was quickly spiraling out of control. Rosie knew that and she also knew there were several reasons why she should pull the brakes, or at least pump them, but if this was a car, she was about to hit the gas pedal and drive them both off a cliff.
Her gaze met his. “Then why don’t you show me?”
A ravenous, predatory glint filled his eyes. Without saying a word, he took her hand and rose, pulling her up with him. She expected him to pull her into his arms, but that’s not what he did. He turned her around, so her back was to his front. He let go of her hand and placed his on her shoulders.
“Do you see us?” he asked.
At first she didn’t understand what he meant, but as her gaze darted over the room, she saw them, in the standing mirror.
She drew in a shallow breath. “I do.”
“I want to know.” One hand skimmed down her arm, over her waist, to her hip. The other roamed down and those long, elegant fingers of his curled around her breast. Liking that—liking it too much—she bit down on her lip. “What are you thinking when you see us in the mirror?”
What was she thinking? She gave a little shake of her head. Their reflection was nothing less than decadent sin. Him towering behind her, one hand on her hip, the other opening and closing around her breast. Their masks in place and their lips parted.
“I’m thinking that I . . . I want to find out what your amendment is,” she said.
“You’re impatient, aren’t you?”
“Always.”
Devlin made a sound that reminded her of a rough, unused chuckle and then he stepped into her and using the hand at her hip and her breast, he pulled her back against his front.
She felt him, all of his iron-clad strength. He was so much taller, but somehow he lined their bodies up, pressing his hips against her ass, and she felt him there, hard and thick.
“Tell me, Rosie, are you going to pretend again?” His breath drifted over her temple. “Pretend you don’t feel how badly I want you?”
Instead of using words, she pushed her hips back and rolled them. His deep groan turned into a grunt and his hand tightened on her hip as he swiveled his hips against her ass.