“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Kissing you. At least, that’s what I’d like to be doing.”
“But we aren’t going to … not here. Are we?”
David felt torn between amusement and exasperation that she thought of kissing as nothing more than a prelude to copulation. What the devil had been wrong with Randolph Hurst?
“No,” he replied. “And the first lesson I’m going to teach you, my dear, is that very often kissing is done simply for the enjoyment of the act itself, not as a precursor to anything else.”
“Oh,” she said, as if his words were a sudden revelation. “I think that would be lovely.”
David wasted no time. Her consent freed him to close the space between them and lightly brush his lips over hers. He was seized with so many urges that he shook with the willpower it took to keep from overwhelming her. The need to consume and bite and lick were pushed aside, his trembling hands gently cradling her face as David drank from her mouth in slow, tortuous sips. His efforts were rewarded as Regina eased into his hold by degrees, meeting each brush of his mouth with tentative presses of her own. He angled his head to go deeper, opening his mouth to taste her plump lower lip. She whimpered against his mouth, inching closer on the loveseat and offering him more, her head tilting back in the brace of his hands. Only then did he dare to run his tongue along the curve of her upper lip, delving in so slowly and carefully. Regina gasped into his mouth but did not retreat. Her hands rested against his and she clung to him, tentatively pushing her tongue against his.
The gentle innocence in the gesture had David’s blood firing hot in his veins and rushing straight to his cock. A sound of pure, raw need flowed from his mouth and into hers, originating from somewhere deep in his chest. Intense hunger clawed at him from within, as if that first taste had set off something instinctive.
“Open for me, Regina … yes, just like that.”
She parted her lips wider, her fingers tightening around his as he pushed his tongue deeper, feeding off the sweet taste of her. The velvety rasp of her tongue meeting him, playing with him, learning how to do it right, made the tension in his groin nearly unbearable. The way she trembled in his hold, the soft sounds she made without realizing it, the subtle arch of her back … all of it tore him to pieces and exacerbated his desperation. If they were in her home instead of his, he’d likely have Regina on her back by now, well on his way to discovering if the rest of her tasted as good as her mouth.
David pulled away before he lost control, and not just because they could be caught by his mother or sisters. He would never allow himself to forget that he couldn’t simply pounce on Regina the way other women paid him to in the past. She required slow and gentle handling, and for him to keep his own desires tightly leashed—at least for the time being.
“How sweet you are,” he murmured, punctuating his statement with one final, short kiss.
Regina whimpered and chased his lips, prompting a chuckle from David. He doubted she realized what she had just done, or how she looked just now—lips swollen and slick, eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed. That stray strand of hair rested against her cheek, a flame-red coil of temptation. He’d never witnessed a more delectable sight in his life.
“I … um … thank you.”
It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to plant another kiss, this one on the tip of her adorable nose. “Don’t thank me yet. There is so much more for me to teach you.”
“Tomorrow night,” she said. “By the time we returned to my home the hour would already be quite late and I have already taken up much of your time this evening. You must be in dire need of dinner and rest.”
David wanted to argue that he was more than up to the task, but his belly and his aching head told him otherwise. A night of respite would better prepare him for her. “Tomorrow night it is.”
Regina’s lips twitched with a small smile. “If that kiss was any indication of what I can expect, consider me already intrigued.”
She collected her hat on the way to the door, and David walked her to her waiting carriage. The driver had lit the lamps, illuminating them in a circle of yellow light.
“Thank you for listening,” she said. “I was terrified to face you, and you somehow made our conversation bearable. I am grateful, David.”
“There is no need to thank me. Remember what I said. It is no more than you deserve.”
She allowed him to hand her up into the vehicle, peering down at him with one of her soft, rare smiles. “Good night. Until tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
David backed away and watched the carriage depart, though he lingered for a long while once it was out of sight. His earlier hunger, exhaustion, and irritation had been forgotten and now there was only anticipation. Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough to suit him.
Turning back to the house, David looked forward to a warm meal and his bed. It wasn’t until he made it halfway up the stairs that he realized Regina had come to him without the hulking shadow of Powell looming at her back.
Chapter 8
Regina was certain if she paced much longer she would wear a hole in the rug. Anticipation of David’s arrival made her flinch at every sound, her pulse swift and unsteady. Powell had been instructed to see David to her door, then take himself elsewhere for the night. The footman’s presence was no longer needed, as her courtesan had gone out of his way to prove she had no reason to fear him. Besides, she’d been mortified enough at the things Powell had overheard the last time. If David’s touch between her legs for a few minutes was enough to have her cries echoing from the walls, there was no telling what reaction he might elicit once she gave him permission to do more.
The footman hadn’t been content to leave her alone with David unless she agreed to accept his knife, which he had slid into a tear he created in the side of the mattress. Once Regina had demonstrated that she could quickly retrieve it if need be, Powell had agreed to her request for privacy.
Goose bumps prickled along Regina’s arms as her gaze wandered to her neatly-made bed, and she imagined what might take place there in a few short minutes. Truly, her imagination was sorely lacking, but it was Regina’s hope to see that change by the end of the night.
Clutching at the folds of her nightgown, she took a peek at her reflection in the mirror. In an effort to stop avoiding her reflection, she had given it a more prominent place in the bedchamber. Was her effort at tempting David to desire too gauche? She hoped he would not think her pathetic, but after the weeks he had spent with a cold, rigid version of her, Regina hoped to make amends. Reason told her it shouldn’t matter. She was paying him, and that meant he was required to do as she asked and nothing more. But some secret part of her longed to know what he would think of the way her hair hung loose down her back, a startling splash against the gossamer white gown draping her body. The design of the nightgown was simple enough, but it was the sheer fabric that made it decidedly sinful. The pink shadows of her nipples were visible, as well as the red triangle of curls between her legs. The firelight shined clear through the fabric, outlining the flare of her hips and shape of her legs.
She turned away from the reflection, debating the matter of changing into one of her demurer gowns. This one had been part of her wedding trousseau, though Randolph never laid eyes on it. Nor had he ever seen the other delicate garments meant to entice a husband to lust.
Running a hand over the costly, thin material, Regina smiled. She would keep it on, and perhaps she could wear some of the others on the nights David came to visit. After all, she had stepped into a new phase of her life—one in which she experienced all the things she had been deprived of. Randolph would surely have disapproved of her in the scandalous garment, much as he had detested gowns he claimed had indecently low necklines or skirts that were too thin. But David … perhaps he might find her alluring. Maybe he would even think her beautiful.
Her heart stuttered at the sound of a knock on the door, and she had t
o take a deep breath before calling out in a high, breathless voice. “Come in.”
Thankfully, Powell didn’t so much as peek into the room, the heavy tread of his departing footsteps indicating that she was completely alone with the man standing on the threshold. For the first time, Regina had lit every lamp and taper in the room, flooding it with golden light. And, oh, how that light loved David. It seemed to arc and strain to reach him, its facets gleaming off the black of his hair and highlighting the classical perfection of his features.
He paused halfway across the room as the light revealed her state of undress. His lips parted on a rushed exhale, fingers twitching at his sides as his gaze traveled over her from head to toe. Regina could not move, or so much as draw a single breath as she waited for him to speak, to act, to do something other than stand there and stare at her.
“My God,” he murmured, his gaze snapping up to tangle with hers. “And here I was under the impression that I had come here to seduce you.”
Her lips split in a smile she was helpless to stifle. “You … like it?”
David started toward her, running a hand over his jaw. “If I liked it anymore, I might not survive it. Consider me thoroughly captivated.”
Her legs began to shake as he neared, that enticing scent of sandalwood emanating from him as if he’d washed and shaved just before coming to her. There was something savage in his eyes that shook Regina to her core; something that inspired both fear and intrigue in her at once. The fear was calmed as she realized he was in complete control. His eyes spoke of conquering lust, but his every motion was slow and careful, calculated.
David cupped her face in his hands. Their bodies did not touch, yet a palpable energy thrummed in the space between them, making Regina feel as if invisible hands touched her everywhere.
“Before we begin, I need you to understand that you can tell me to stop at any time. There is no point of no return here. Comfort first, pleasure second. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the security his words provided. It went a long way toward easing the anxiety twisting and writhing in her belly like a nest of snakes. It also rendered Powell’s knife an unnecessary safeguard.
His lips brushed the bridge of her nose, then pressed to her brow. “Will you go to the bed?”
A sudden memory stabbed through her mind—Randolph standing in this same room, face hard and unsympathetic. Go to the bed. A command, not a request. David’s question put the control in her hands, giving her permission to accept or deny. What a novel concept.
“Yes.”
Her voice had come out stronger that time, and her steps were sure as they guided her toward the place where she would begin to erase the trauma of her past. Regina had been deflowered in this bed. The sheets had been stained by both her blood and her tears. Tonight, she was determined for all of that to be washed away.
Perching on the edge of the mattress, she watched him shrug out of his coat and lay it in its usual place. Then, he was coming toward her, one hand braced at the top button of his waistcoat.
“Should I stop here … or keep going?”
Regina dragged her gaze over the width and breadth of him, seized yet again with curiosity over how he was shaped beneath those clothes. She wanted to see it all.
“Please … keep going.”
David flicked the buttons loose without breaking eye contact, letting the garment hang open while he snatched at his cravat. The waistcoat fell to the floor and then he was moving faster, jerking the tails of his shirt free of his breeches and attacking the buttons. Regina’s breath hitched at the sight of his throat—a strong, thick column of flesh revealing the thump of his pulse.
She could only watch in stunned silence as the garment came off over his head, her rapt attention fixed on the expanse of his torso as he bared it to her. A thick mat of black hair covered the swells of his chest, arrowing down into his breeches in a sleek line. He represented a duality of hard and soft, strength and gentle beauty. The contrast left her breathless and weak. No wonder he’d needed her to sit down before he started taking his clothes off. Had all his past lovers felt as if they might faint from simply looking at him?
He crouched to yank off one boot, then the other, and his stockings followed. Before he could go to work on his breeches, Regina reached out a tentative hand.
“Wait. Let me?”
One dark eyebrow winged up in pleased surprise. “Of course.”
She stilled her shaking hands to work at the buttons. The first proved hardest to slip free, but she grew steadier with each one, until the breeches sagged around his hips and the fall dropped to reveal his cock. Seeing it with her own eyes was a different experience than feeling it inside her. He took her breath away, straining and swelling as if in reaction to her stare. He bent to release the buttons at his knees, then helped her ease them down. The sight of him completely unclothed took her breath away, so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him. It didn’t seem natural for someone to be so utterly perfect, but Regina’s roaming eyes couldn’t find a single physical flaw.
The deep olive coloring of his face and hands extended everywhere, proving that the hue was one he had been born with, not caused by time spent in this sun. He remained still and silent as if understanding her need to look her fill, everything about him radiating ease except for the growing shaft of his cock.
He looked as if he’d been carved of marble, yet there was nothing cold about him. He gave off a heat she found enthralling, making her want to place her hand against his chest. More of the inky black hair graced his arms and legs, the plane of his groin. Regina had been repulsed by everything about her husband, and because of that she could not fathom the way David’s nudity made her feel. On a basic level, the two men had all the same parts, the same anatomical structure. But David wasn’t just a bundle of parts sewn together to make a man. He was almost godlike in his beauty, yet his actions toward her—his patience, gentleness, and grace—balanced him out with a much-needed dose of humanity.
The sudden movement of his hands snapped Regina out of her stupor. They came to her shoulders, running down the length of her arms in a soothing gesture. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that touch suffused through her, allowing her to draw steady breaths. David stared at the powder blue ribbon threaded through the eyelets between her breasts, ending in a bow at the base of her throat.
“May I?”
He hooked his finger in one of the loops of the bow, but didn’t so much as tug until she had nodded to grant her permission. The gown loosened, David’s deft motions revealing her sternum inch by inch. His fingertips whispered over her skin as he pushed the gown down her arms to pool at her waist. The rise and fall of his chest quickened as he locked eyes on her bared breasts, making her nipples pucker as if begging for his touch. He urged her to her feet, sinking to one knee with his hands wrapped in the flimsy fabric of her gown. It slid along her hips and legs as he eased it down, gazing up at her from beneath his lashes. Regina held deathly still as he ran his hands lightly over her calves and thighs, pausing to cradle her hips.
His dark head lowered, and he rested against her leg with a heavy sigh. “You are so beautiful. Have you any idea?”
The earnestness in his voice stirred her, leaving her with no doubt that he spoke the truth. How could she do anything other than meet him with the same honesty?
“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’ve never felt beautiful. My hair is unfashionable, I have freckles, my body—”
“Is perfect,” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and teasing. “Your hair is perfect, your freckles are perfect. Never let anyone make you feel as if they aren’t. You are beautiful, Regina. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make you believe it.”
Regina lacked the words to respond, because then he was lifting her foot and bracing it on his thigh, his lips pressing to the inside of her knee. It struck her as a decidedly odd place for him to kiss her, until his mouth
began to move. Her mind quieted, her head falling back and her eyes sliding closed as he skimmed his lips along the inside of her thigh, leaving a trail of foreign, tingling sensation. Regina leaned against the bed for purchase as he kissed his way up, up—until his mouth rested right over the core of her. She panted, head spinning as he planted a short kiss right against her mons, his breaths tickling through her curls. Then, heat and wetness flared at her lower belly, the hot, rough stroke of his tongue around her navel forcing a shocked cry from her lips.
Dear God, he was kissing her in places she never knew possessed such sensitive nerve endings. She jolted and quaked with each press of his mouth, each sweep of his searching tongue, her back arching as he worked his way up her body. Her leg wrapped around his hip as he inched upward, dragging his tongue up the center of her abdomen and along her breastbone in one long, hot drag. His hands braced her back just before she collapsed, as if he had expected her reaction to the befuddling things he was doing. It was all so unexpected that Regina could only go limp in his arms and try to anticipate what might be next.
His wicked tongue stroked at her pulse now, lapping and swirling as if he’d found some sweet delicacy there and wanted to savor it. She whimpered and clung to him, fingers wrapping around biceps that bulged and hummed with barely-contained power. Yet, despite such hardness his hands at her back were so tender, the press of his body against hers light and yielding, as if to show her that she could part from him at any moment. He lit a trail of fire along her neck, then his teeth nipped the line of her jaw, and she nearly swooned.
What sorcery was this? The man had battered his way through her defenses already, and he wasn’t even inside her yet, had barely touched any of her most intimate places. It was coming, she could feel it in the slow, excruciating build of his kisses, growing more wicked by the second as he found a tender hollow behind her ear. She would never again be able to dab perfume there without thinking of his tongue, his breath teasing her toward this state of squirming, desperate arousal. He bent her back to lie on the bed with her legs dangling over the side, hands tangling in her hair as he aimed his mouth at hers. She met him with a desperate moan, lips already parted to accept the invasion of his tongue.
Taming of the Rake (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 4) Page 14
