Liberating Mr. Gable, Part One
Page 7
Etta beamed at him. “That’s good! See? Vacations must be good for you. You’ll have to schedule one more often.”
Anson shook his head, and then gazed at Etta in a way that made her squirm under his wholehearted adoration of her. “It’s not the vacation. It’s you.” He brushed the brunette locks away from her face, so she could not hide the pleasure she felt at his confession. His thumb traced the crest of her lower lip, his own parting at the study of hers. “Etta,” he breathed.
“Y-Yes?”
“I want to kiss you, but I want your first kiss to be something you want, too. Could I be your first real kiss? Would you want that?”
So many things swirled inside of Etta in that moment. Years of regret over the life she spent not living. The handful of cute boys that came through that she had not the courage to talk to. Cooper’s territorial markings that felt anything but romantic. “Yes. But…but I don’t really know how. I mean, I’ve only ever been kissed by Coop, and I mostly just freeze and pray for it to be over quick.”
Anson chuckled, a lazy smirk spreading over his features. His arm looped around her and drew her body flush with his. “Well, I can guarantee you, this will be better.”
Her eyes darted around nervously before settling on his handsome face again. “I might be a really bad kisser,” she gusted out in a rush. She felt the need to warn him, so he could know what he was getting into.
“I can be patient,” he promised. “Relax.” His fingers traced the outline of her face as if she were made of silk. “Do you want to kiss me?”
Etta nodded dreamily, happy to be captive under his spell.
Anson surprised Etta by rolling himself on top of her, propping his weight up on his elbows, so as not to make her feel trapped. “Do you want me to kiss you here?” He brushed his full lips across hers, enjoying the longing mixed with trepidation in her expression. He pulled back to gauge her reaction. “You have to answer me, Etta. I won’t do anything you don’t tell me you want.”
“Okay. Thanks. Um, yes.”
“Yes, what?” He resumed his glorious tease.
“Please kiss me, Anson.”
Instead of leaning in to seal the deal, Anson tucked his arm under her back and lifted her slightly, so her chest was elevated and her head lolled back on the pillow. It was a test to see if her body was as willing as he wished it to be. “Do you want me to kiss you here?” he asked, dipping his nose into the crook of her elongated neck. He could feel the thrum of her heartbeat against his cheek as he pressed his face to her throat. “Etta?”
“Yes! Please, yes!”
Anson smirked into her creamy flesh as he began to sew kisses along her collarbone. “How have you gone your whole life without this?” he wondered aloud. “Look how your body responds to me.” He demonstrated his point by sucking on her neck, enjoying the way she could not help but writhe beneath him. “How is it possible no man has discovered how incredible your skin tastes?” He switched to the other side of her neck, eliciting an unladylike moan from the girl in his arms.
He had done this plenty of times with a wide assortment of females before his neurosis took over. But with the other women, it was a job, or a race to the finish line, not a slowly dripping candle, like it was with Etta. He aimed to savor every bit of her that she offered up to him, to make recompense for all the kindness she had shown. He had never been a girl’s first kiss before. At thirty-two, Anson did not expect that opportunity to present itself in the form of a beautiful woman. A perfect creature who was coming undone in his arms as she moaned his name deliciously.
He sucked on her shoulder. He nipped at her neck. He suckled her collarbone. He licked tender spots on her throat. He pressed his mouth to her chin, and finally, his lips hovered above hers.
“Anson,” she whimpered softly. “Please!”
“Please, what?” Anson took in the scope of her unconcealed lust for him. “What is it you want, Etta?”
“Kiss me, Anson. I want you to kiss me.”
He smiled lovingly down at her besotted state of want and need. So young, and so adult. In truth, he could have teased her willing body for hours, building up the craving until neither of them could harness the fallout. But there was something about the pleading way she uttered his name that crumbled his plan for her undoing. Anson Gable forgot that he did not like contact. He forgot his anxiety. In her presence, Anson Gable lost himself completely as he delicately pulled her lower lip between his, closing his eyes as he granted her a truly perfect first kiss.
To continue the Liberated Series, download Part Two on your ereader tonight.
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