An Old Fashioned Romance

From The Visions of Ransom Lake by Marcia Lynn McClure

The mesmerized expression in his storm-filled eyes told her she was correct in her estimation of him. So, she placed her own fingers gently to her lips, kissing them softly before she reached out to tenderly place them on his lips. They were warm and, as her fingers lingered, caressing them, Vaden began to doubt for a moment that he could be weakened. But, an instant before she would’ve pulled her hand away from him, he took it firmly in his and closed his eyes for a moment as he kissed the delicate tips of her fingers. Then, guiding her hand under his arm and around to rest on his back, he bent cradling her securely with both arms and kissing her fiercely.

From the first touch of his lips to hers, Vaden imagined the bonfire which had burned so ferociously and hot at the Halloween social that evening was holed up within her. This kiss was different from the kiss she’d received from him while standing in a mud puddle some weeks earlier. This kiss revealed his absolute masculinity, his intense virility. It was insistent, demanding reciprocation and Vaden responded willingly, for she knew how desperately the powerful love she secreted for him needed this physical attention. She also knew of the needs, both emotional and physical, that he had been deprived of or of which he had deprived himself.

The short whiskers of his roughly shaven face scratched at the tender flesh around Vaden’s mouth as this likeness of perfect masculinity worked a kiss of a magnitude to be entirely thorough and passionate. She did not worry for this discomfort nor for the discomfort of nearly having the breath squeezed from her lungs so tightly did he hold her against his powerful body. For in those wholly shared moments of impassioned kisses, Vaden Valmont knew he was her own. Even as her mind and senses whirled with the bliss of his intimate attentions, she knew it would end and that he would again be lost to her. But for those glorious moments in time, for the enraptured duration of their kiss, he was hers. Vaden sensed that, though the chance would be merely an instant, she controlled the powerful, independent man. She alone held the reins to his mind, his desire and his will in that instant. She let her hand rest at his jaw as he had instructed her to do on the previous occasion of his kissing her. The fire that blazed within her burned feverish in her heart as she could, indeed, feel the intensity of his determination to draw from her the essence that would quench his desire. As her hand caressed his jaw, her thumb rested for a moment in the slight cleft of his chin and she marveled at his mastery of manipulating her emotions.

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