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Page 248
when he had another woman, he had been about to say, he still desired her. Joanna knew there must be others, but just now she was growing too excited to care. As soon as he stopped speaking, Geoffrey had employed his mouth to a better purpose, forcing his head under her chin, brushing aside her robe with his cheek, and kissing her chest lower and lower until his lips found the curve of a breast rising from the cleavage. He was following that now and shifting his grip on her so that his fingers could catch the robe and draw it aside. Before she realized what he had accomplished, Geoffrey dropped his head still lower and took her nipple in his mouth.
A cry in response to a pleasure nearly as agonizing as pain rose in Joanna's throat. To silence it, although she had no idea why silence was imperative, Joanna bent her head forward and buried her face in the back of Geoffrey's neck. The mail hood scratched her cheek and he stank of stale sweat and tired horse. That made no difference; if anything, the pain and odor excited her still more. She pulled free the arm that was clamped between her side and Geoffrey's. He tightened his grip, fearing she would try to fight free, but that had not even occurrred to her. All Joanna wanted was to find Geoffrey's flesh. She slid her arm up his back and pulled the hood away, exposing Geoffrey's nape so that she could fasten her lips to that.
A muffled moan came up from the area of Joanna's breast. The feel of her lips on the back of his neck was obliterating what little sanity Geoffrey had left. No one had ever kissed that spot within his memory. He moaned again, spread his legs, and tried futilely to shift Joanna so that the pressure of her body would come where he needed it. Hauberks, however, are designed to ward off far greater pressures than the weight of a slender girl, and the chausses, shirt and tunic under it provide little freedom. Geoffrey was on the horns of a dilemma. He could not bear to release the sweet flesh he was tasting; he could not move more than his lower body lest he interrupt the work of those warm lips that were sending chills down his backbone, which somehow

 
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