Master of Pleasure, by Jessica Trapp

Master of Pleasure


Godric placed his hands on the tree behind her, enclosing her in a prison of muscle.  His body enveloped hers, and his comforting campfirelike scent surrounded her. He leaned forward until his chest grazed hers.  

White-hot sensation skittered down her spine.

“It would not be like that at all,” he whispered, brushing her forehead with his lips.  “I feel how your skin responds to my touch.  
I feel your heartbeat.”

“That is anger and fear.”

His hands traced a slow trail down her shoulder.  Leaning away, he allowed enough room between their bodies to rake his fingernail softly across her nipple.  Sensation arced from her breast to her woman’s core.

“This, my lady, is neither anger nor fear,” he murmured.

Although the dress and shift were between them, she felt naked.  She gasped and pushed him back, not wanting to experience the desire curling in her stomach.

He took a tendril of her hair and twirled it between his fingers.  The strand glistened red-gold in the sunlight.  “Your passion matches your hair.”

She shook her head.  “Everyone knows red hair is unlucky.”      

“Men make their own luck by following their passion.  And yours awakens each time I touch you…”