Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

It's Complicated

Is he moving very, very slowly because he's giving her time to consent?

Because she bloody does!

In any other case - and literally, every bloody time she'd been in a similar situation before - she'd take the matter in her own hands, and grab handfuls of his jumper, or maybe pull him down by his neck. Instead, her breathing 'bated' - and you've always thought you aren't an emotional type, heh, Ulla? Look at yourself, you might be actually almost trembling! - and she stretched up a bit, to meet him quicker.

His lips brushed at hers tenderly, and she unconsciously rose on tiptoes seeking more contact. His lips were soft, and warm, and she didn't know she could feel so sweet - and then his hand firmly lay on her jaw, he angled her face, and kissed her.

How do ordained Anglican curates kiss?

Bloody brilliantly, if you ask Ulla.

He deepened the kiss, and bent lower, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. And then he kissed her even more firmly, and her head swam. What?! That's a real thing?! She wasn't exactly passive herself, but the man was going hard! And he knew what he was doing! His scorching large palm slid higher, his fingers opened, and while he lifted her chin with his thumb, she felt the tips of his long fingers brush behind her ear. Wow... There are actual tingles! She pushed her hands into his hair, and finally gathered fistfuls of his dark curls she'd been mildly obsessed with the whole time.

And then he slightly turned her face, making room for himself, and dove down, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her throat. What the bloody hell? How's he so good?! Ulla squeezed her eyes. His lips slid on her jaw, and she tilted her head, encouraging him. Ooph, someone's starved - and it's not just Ulla. Oh dear...

He took a step forward, pressing his large, scorching body into her, and she stumbled back, bumping her backside into the desk. She battered her hands behind her. And then he returned his attention to her lips - and her hands flew up and flailed in the air. That had never happened before! She just couldn't– what– couldn't wrap her mind– Oh whatever!

She moaned, and grabbed handfuls of his hair again, and then brushed her palms to his shoulders, and his neck, and his nape. Finally! He was leaning her backwards, and although he only had one working hand, there was just the right amount of touching, and squeezing, and– god, the man's good! She moaned louder - and she wasn't a moaner! - and wrapped her leg around him, and pulled him even closer! Not enough!

And then he pushed his hand behind her, and shoved the papers off the desk. They fluttered, and something heavy - hopefully, a book and not his Mac - fell on the floor with a thud.

"Up," he barked at her.

And she pressed her hands into the edge of the desk behind her, hopped, and landed her backside on the desk. She didn't have enough time to question her own sudden obedience, because he lunged ahead, and crashed his lips into hers. Her legs immediately went around his waist.

It's like this desk was specifically designed for such activities! The height was perfect, giving her access to all the deliciousness that was his upper half - less than a half actually, since he had exceptionally long legs. And then he ground his hips into her. Oh dear. That morning she'd only had a brush with that part of his anatomy, all puns intended. She now had a much clearer picture. The picture... impressed.

And then he jerked, growled - and winced away from her. Ulla gawked at him - his hair sticking around his head, his lips bright red and swollen, and his eyes burning. Bodice-ripper worthy. Damn your sarcasm, Ulla. You have a situation on your hands! Who wants a bet he'll snap out of it in three, two, one–