by Burke, Darcy
Closing his eyes, he swept his mouth over hers. He moved his hand back, his fingers driving into her hair behind her ear while he stroked her cheek with his thumb. He dragged it down, pulling on her jaw and then slipping his tongue past her lips.
She put one hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist, her fingertips digging into him as he kissed her, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Silently, he coaxed her to kiss him back.
Then she did, her tongue gliding against his, tentative at first, then with more purpose. He drew back and whispered, “Yes, just like that.” Angling his head, he kissed her again, moving his hand to cup her nape and pulling her more tightly against him.
Her hand curled against his neck as she gave herself to him in complete abandon, her head tipping back and her mouth opening to accommodate him. Then she grew bolder, pushing her tongue into his mouth and demonstrating how quickly she learned.
Anthony’s hips twitched as he tried not to move against her. He wanted her with a stark desperation that shocked the hell out of him.
And she was his for the taking. She’d made that very clear. He could turn around and close the door and lay her down on the settee…
He pulled away, his breath coming in fast pants as he released her.
“What’s wrong?” She looked up at him with desire-hazed eyes and kiss-reddened lips, her breath as rapid as his.
“Nothing.” He forced himself to take deep breaths and urged his lust to diminish. He couldn’t take her on the settee. He wouldn’t. She deserved far better than that.
She deserved far better than him.
“I have to go.” He turned and fled the room before she could question him further. Before he exposed anything else about the void in his soul. Before he ruined her just as he ruined everything else.
Chapter 6
Today was day seven. Anthony could very well leave her tomorrow. In fact, she expected him to. He’d been distant since they’d kissed the day before. Oh, he’d still played backgammon and cards after dinner. And he’d flirted with her—benignly. But he hadn’t mentioned the kiss, and neither had she.
She’d thought he’d changed his mind about her proposition, especially when he’d kissed her. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. The kiss, she assumed, had unnerved him.
Furthermore, he was doing exceptionally well. They’d spent time in the garden that afternoon, and while his eye still looked terrible, most of his other injuries were nearly healed.
Tonight, they were going to have dinner in the dining room, and she wondered if it would be their final evening together. She expected it even as she dreaded it.
She was suddenly irritated with herself and her defeatist attitude. If this was to be their last night together, she wanted to enjoy it. And she wanted to know if it was truly to be their last.
Dressed for dinner, Jane went to his room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he called.
Jane opened the door and closed it behind her. The bedchamber was empty, but the narrow door to the dressing room stood open. She crossed the room and went to the threshold. He stood with his back to her, his hands tying his cravat.
The lawn of his white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders as he worked. Her gaze dipped down the muscles of his back, barely visible beneath the cotton, and settled on the curve of his backside. She’d never paid attention to how attractive that body part was on a man. Or maybe it was just his. Her fingers itched to touch it. Yesterday she’d gotten a frustratingly small taste of him. She wanted more.
His eyes met hers in the mirror, and his fingers stopped moving. “Jane. Miss Pemberton.”
He’d reverted to calling her Miss Pemberton after the kiss. She’d followed his lead and gone back to calling him Lord Colton. But in her head, he would forever be Anthony.
Turning, he gave up on the cravat, letting the silk fall into a half-tied knot. “Please pardon my dishabille.”
“No need to excuse yourself. I’m intruding. Please pardon me.”
He grinned. “We are nothing if not unfailingly polite.”
She nodded. “I wondered if you planned to leave tomorrow. I realize I could have asked at dinner, but I find I…” She fought to find the right words. “I wanted to know. Now.”
He looked bemused. “Why?”
She stepped farther into the small room. “If it’s to be our last night together, I want to know.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving while the rest of him remained stock-still. “It should be. I’m nearly healed, and I should go home.”
She moved closer, emboldened by the electricity she felt in the air. “But you aren’t fully healed. You could stay.”
“We both know I should not.”
“Why? Because I might beat you at backgammon again?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the way that made her insides flutter and her lungs feel like they couldn’t draw a deep breath. “Clearly. My manhood can’t support another loss.”
She refused to sidestep the attraction between them like they had since the kiss. She’d regret it forever. Moving to stand directly in front of him so he had nowhere to hide, she placed her hand on his chest. With only his shirt between them, she felt the strong beat of his heart, the tantalizing heat of his flesh. “Or is it because you might kiss me again?”
“I won’t do that. I overstepped yesterday.”
She narrowed her eyes up at him, frustrated by his unnecessary chivalry. “How can you overstep when I invited you to take my virginity? A kiss is well within the bounds of what I’ve already asked you to do. And what will you do if I kiss you?”
A low growl sounded from somewhere deep in his throat. “Jane, you are the embodiment of temptation.”
She twitched her hips and pushed her hand up to his cravat. Bringing up her other hand, she plucked up the silk between her fingers. “Should I tie this for you or take it off?”
“Fuck.”
Surprise leapt through her, and for a moment, she froze.
“God, I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes briefly and groaned. When he looked into her eyes again, there was naked desire. “You completely rob me of my senses. I want you to take it off, but you should tie it.”
She gave him an apologetic grimace. “Sadly, I don’t actually know how to knot a cravat.” She pulled the silk loose and gripped the ends in each hand. Then she used it to tug his head down. “I have, however, recently learned how to kiss.”
Standing on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his. She’d expected to have to coax him, but his arms came around her, and he lifted her against him.
She swallowed a gasp as he plundered her mouth. So much for kissing him. Not that she didn’t. Because she had learned to kiss and had thought of little else since yesterday.
Releasing the cravat, she curled her arms around his neck and held on tight. Oh, this was everything she’d hoped it would be. He felt so good against her—strong, warm, secure. And he made her feel desired, special. He wanted to resist, but wasn’t able to. Her insides cartwheeled.
He slowly lowered her back down to the floor. Her body slid down his, and she was all too aware of his hard length—his cock—against her. A pulse that had started between her legs when he’d kissed her the day before returned and grew to an insistent throb. She knew she could try to quiet the ache, but suspected he would do it better. Maybe he would at least show her how—hadn’t he offered to do that?
He ended the kiss, but didn’t move away. He spoke against her mouth. “You are a temptress. I know I’m repeating myself. I can’t help it. Jane, you should go.”
“Probably, but I’m not going to. I’ve been clear with you about what I want. Nothing has changed. Unless…you’ve changed your mind?” It seemed he had, or was at least on the verge of doing so.
“I can’t do everything you want.” He pulled back slightly then so he could look at her. “It’s not that I don’t want to. God, I want to. But I can’t. Not everything.”
Disappo
intment curled in her gut, but he hadn’t outright denied her. “What can you do? Can you at least show me how to properly pleasure myself?”
The heat between them grew to an almost unbearable level before he answered. “Yes.” The word was barely audible, but she saw his lips move. His lovely, kissable, enchanting lips.
She stood on her toes to kiss him again. “Oh, good.”
“Jane,” he growled before claiming her mouth and kissing her with wild abandon. They clung to each other as if they were the only solid objects in a storm raging about them. When at last they parted, they were both panting.
“Later, after dinner?” he asked.
Jane shook her head. She didn’t want to wait. Hell, why not now and later? “Now, please. And after dinner, if you’re so inclined.”
He took her hand and led her back to the bedroom. “I make no promises about later, but now… Get on the bed.”
Jane kicked off her slippers and started to climb on the bed.
“On second thought, that’s going to rumple your dress, and we still have to dine.”
She put both feet back on the floor. “We could dine here, and it doesn’t matter what we wear.” She curled her lips into a sultry smile. “We could wear nothing, in fact.”
“Temptress is perhaps not a strong enough word. Siren is better.” He stared at her with a fiery intensity. “Jane, you’re a siren. And you’re going to be the death of me. But I daresay it will be the best death anyone could hope for.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” she said softly, then turned to present her back. “Why don’t you unlace my dress, and I’ll just remove it for now. Then I can put it back on…after.”
In answer, he began to pluck at her laces. She’d been undressed by her maid more times than she could count, but it had never felt like this. Each pull reverberated through her body, echoing in her core, pushing her desire even higher. By the time he finished, she was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
She took her arms from the sleeves, and he whisked the garment over her head. Pivoting, she watched him carefully lay it over the back of the chair near the hearth.
Then he came toward her again and twirled his finger. “Turn back around.”
Puzzled by the request but eager to do anything he asked, she faced the bed. His fingers touched her nape, gently stroking her and sending ripples of sensation down her spine and out to her extremities. She shivered. He moved down until he reached the top of her corset.
“I want to take this off too. But we don’t really have to.”
She heard the battle in his voice. He was holding himself back. She didn’t want him to. “I think I’d prefer if you took it off.” He’d mentioned touching her breasts, which wouldn’t be possible with the corset on.
Again, he unfastened her garment, the sound of the laces pulling through the fabric whispering in the air around them. As the corset loosened, she tried to calm her racing pulse, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.
He tugged the corset from her, sliding it over her hips and down her legs until she stepped out of it. She kept her eyes closed, allowing him to guide her.
“I suppose I shouldn’t take your hair down.” He spoke near her ear, his breath tickling her neck.
“You could.”
“I won’t.”
But she heard the desire in his voice. Then his lips were against her skin. She gasped softly as he kissed her neck and shoulder. He lightly clasped her waist, then splayed his hand over her hip so that his fingers nearly touched her sex. Well, her sex covered by the petticoat and chemise she still wore. It was too much.
Jane reached behind her waist and untied the petticoat. It fell to the floor, and she kicked it aside. “That’s better,” she murmured.
His hand pressed on her, bringing her backside against him. “Lift your chemise.”
It reached her midthigh. Using her left hand, she pulled the hem up to her hips.
“Higher,” he whispered against her ear. He kissed her there, his lips and tongue tracing a seductive trail along the outer edge.
She did as he said and lifted the chemise to her waist, exposing herself.
“Show me what you do when you pleasure yourself,” he said, keeping his voice low. It was dark and seductive, enveloping her in a world of sensation where touch and sound were paramount.
Heat flooded her, and she wondered if she had the courage to do as he asked. Only, he wasn’t asking. And that made it all the more enticing. She lowered her right hand to her sex and pressed gently. “I just rub here,” she barely whispered.
“You don’t put your finger inside?”
She shook her head, her cheeks flaming even as her thighs trembled.
He put his hand over hers. “Widen your legs farther apart.”
When she did so, he began to move her hand against herself, rotating her fingertips against that spot that felt good.
“Your clitoris is very sensitive. I could probably make you come just by doing this—going faster and faster. But if I add my finger—or my tongue—inside you, you might come harder. Do you know what that means, Jane? To come?”
She shook her head, unable to speak as desire unfurled inside her. He hadn’t stopped moving their fingers, and the sparks he’d ignited were now burning into flame, licking at her from all sides.
“It means orgasm—that release that sweeps over you, overwhelming your senses and stealing your reason. Some compare it to a loss of consciousness or even death—tumbling into a darkness that is at once terrifying and welcome.”
He made it sound so wondrous. She was certain she’d never experienced anything like that. “You’ve set my expectations quite high,” she said on a gasp as he widened his pattern of movement, their fingers moving lower over her sex and dipping into her heat before circling back up.
“Then I’d better meet them,” he said with a masculine confidence that made her shudder.
He continued their play in silence. No, not silence, because she was nearly panting and her blood was pounding in her ears.
He lifted his other hand to the top of her chemise and tugged it down, exposing her breasts. “You never touch yourself here?” He gently cupped one globe.
Jane was glad for the security of his body behind her, because she felt as if she might collapse. “No,” she managed to answer.
“Remember the die?”
“Yes.” She nearly whimpered when his fingers closed over her nipple, and he repeated what he’d done the day before to the die. He rolled her flesh, then softly squeezed, pulling on her. She felt the pleasure deep in her core, her pelvis twitching in response as she moaned.
“See what you’ve been missing?” he teased as he moved between stroking her flesh, rolling her nipple, and then lightly pinching before repeating the sequence. All the while, he used her fingers to delve deeper into her sex. “Are you usually this wet?”
She’d noticed wetness before, but not like this. But then she hadn’t put her finger inside herself before. “No. I don’t know. Is that normal?”
“Yes, when you’re aroused. It makes it easier for entry.” He pushed her finger inside her and kissed her neck, his mouth latching on her as he pumped her finger in and out. The tip of his finger went in too, and she wanted more. More than that, she wanted his finger—or fingers—not hers.
Slipping her hand from beneath his, she reversed their positions so she could slide his finger inside herself. “Please.”
“Kiss me, Jane.”
“I—” She gasped as he drove deep into her. Yes, she could see how she might come harder…
“Turn your head and kiss me.” His command, dark and demanding, made her body thrum.
She turned her head, and he claimed her mouth, spearing his tongue into her as he did the same with his finger. But he broke this kiss briefly. “Don’t stop touching yourself, Jane. Let’s do this together. Keep stroking your clitoris.”
She did as he said, and the pleasure of it along wit
h his finger and his hand on her breast built the pleasure inside her to a harrowing degree. Then he kissed her again, and the storm increased, buoying her to unimaginable heights.
“Faster, Jane,” he rasped against her mouth. Then there was more inside her—he was using two fingers, stretching her.
Her legs buckled, and he kept her from falling, moving his hand to her other breast and holding her more tightly against him. “Come for me, Jane. Come.”
Mindless, she couldn’t keep up the pace even as her impending release demanded it. “Anthony, please.”
He withdrew his fingers and took over her clitoris, moving rapidly over her flesh, showing her how she was deficient. The spiraling pleasure burst inside her. She cried out as spasms rocked her body. He kept moving, alternating his fingers between her sheath and her clitoris. She was absolutely lost in a torrent of ecstasy.
When she began to calm, he turned her and perched her on the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes and looked up at him in wonder. “I never imagined…”
He kissed her, his hand cupping the back of her head. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and kissed him back, so grateful for his gift.
When they pulled apart, she blinked up at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She couldn’t help but notice that he looked pained, his face drawn into tight lines. “Are you all right?” She touched his cheek.
“Fine. Wonderful, actually.”
“Except you didn’t come. Right?”
“I, ah, will take care of that after you leave. Before I come down for dinner.”
He meant to pleasure himself, of course. Presumably he was much better at it than she was—although, now she felt much better prepared. “I noticed it felt better when you did the pleasuring.” Which was why she’d unabashedly begged him to put his fingers inside her. “Would it feel better for you if I did the same?”
“My God, Jane, are you even real?” He laughed briefly. “Yes, it would, but I’m not letting you do that.”
