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"You have enchanted me, Beesinger." His voice was filled with dark desire.
Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes widened. "No. You must not."
"Before this journey is done, I vow you will be in my bed."
"Please, let me go." She struggled against him like a butterfly fluttering ineffectually, seeking escape. As fragile and beautiful as that creature, he knew how to handle such delicacy. He'd wooed many a butterfly in his boyhood days and he'd not forgotten how to hold them without damage.
"One kiss is all I ask. Only one. I won't hurt you."
"Why?" she gasped.
"I want to see if paradise tastes as sweet as I imagine it to be."
"Your words flatter, but I am not so susceptible to such sweet words. I will not lay with you."
He pulled her closer, felt the rapid beat of her heart, his gaze fastened on the intriguing pulse at her neck. He lowered his head. "Have you ever lain with a man, Ambrosia de la Courte? Has any man sipped your sweet nectar, impaled you with his desire?"
He saw the rosy blush of innocence spread along her neck and flood her cheeks. "No man has touched me in such a manner. No one would dare."