TemptressofTime

by Dee Brice

  “An A not so imaginatively placed near your anus.” He tickled her ring and the tension began to coil once more.

  “Ohmigod,” she whispered again and again as his tongue plundered her opening. While his thumb circled her clit, his other hand massaged her buttock. He eased a finger into her ass.

  “Come for me, milady. Now that I have found all the letters in your name, come for me.”

  She did. A keening wail ripped from her throat. Her entire body exploded like a sun going supernova. At the pinnacle of release, stars in all the colors of the rainbow flashed beneath her closed eyelids. Tears flooded her cheeks, then seeped into her hair. Before she could swipe them away, his tongue lapped her from eyes to mouth and back again. She could smell herself on his stubble. Taste her juices on his smooth lips and velvet-rough tongue.

  Gathering her into his arms as if her body were whole rather than space dust adrift amongst the stars, he smoothed her hair and stroked his hands up and down her back. Under her cheek she could hear the erratic drumming of his heart, a heavy counterpoint to her own heartbeat pumping oxygen and blood to her every extremity. Involuntary yet much-needed triage for the particles of her just now beginning to reassemble.

  He sat up slightly. Leaning back once more, he waved something potent under her nose. She pushed it away and, opening her eyes, sat up.

  “I only felt as if I’d fainted,” she fibbed, fighting not to glare at his proud expression. Hadn’t any other woman almost blacked out in his arms? Not that she was in his arms when everything sort of…disappeared. Only for a second. Less than a nanosecond, if that long. Damnation! If he realized she cried solely when she lost control, she’d be trapped forever.

  How’d you figure that out?

  Well…if he figured it out, he’d keep trying to make her lose control. Every time she lost control, it would get easier and easier until she would cry every time he made her climax.

  Made her? As if he forced her to come? Oh yeah, sure. Like when she came close to coming when he just looked at her? That kind of control loss? Like right now when he’d repositioned her body without her noticing? Like right now with him sitting tailor-fashion between her feet and staring at her sex? When she could see his cock head peering over his crossed ankles? All she could think about was impaling herself and giving him the wildest ride of his life.

  “Not until I’ve looked my fill,” he warned, his gaze steady on her—there.

  Certain her blush had spread to those nether lips, she turned her head and prayed…oh, damn! Her pussy clenched. She felt it and blushed harder. Clenched harder still when he licked his lips then wiggled his tongue.

  Oh, ohh, ohhh!

  “Ah,” he said, pulling her legs wider still, then plunging his tongue into her again and again. And she climaxed over and over, each one stronger than its predecessor and unlike any climax she’d ever had.

  Too enervated to breathe, grateful her body took care to do so on her behalf, she could only let her gaze follow him as he stood, only to sit again at her feet. She wasn’t too weak to moan her appreciation of his magnificent shaft jutting like a flagpole from a nest of dark curls.

  “If you…swive me…I believe I’m too…tender to enjoy it.”

  Chuckling, he returned to the chaise, straddling it as he sat. “You said earlier you want to watch me masturbate. I am ready now.”

  That got her attention in a hurry and renewed her anticipation. Scooting away, she leaned against the chaise back, her gaze flicking between his hooded eyes and his shaft. “One day I want to watch you grow from flaccid to erect.”

  He barked a laugh. “An unlikely event, milady. With you around, I am constantly erect.”

  Her smile made his shaft bob in a kind of half-bow. She laughed, delighted that her body granted her more discretion in arousal. Well, except for her hardening nipples. At least her pulsing clit lay hidden amongst her curls. Not from his imagination, however, if his darkening eyes were any indication.

  What might happen if she mirrored him? Her gaze narrowed on his hands as one cupped his balls while the other wrapped around his shaft. His eyes closed as though he were caught between pain and rapture. A frown creased his brow, his teeth clenched his tongue.

  “I fear I shan’t last long.” His voice rasped, its timbre as low as she had ever heard it.

  “Nor shall I,” she murmured, drawing his gaze first to her face then to her hands. One caressed her nipples, the other her clit. Fascinated, she saw his fingers glide up and down, drawing his foreskin over his glans then down again to expose glistening precum in his slit. As his rhythm increased, becoming more frantic, so did hers. She thrust two fingers deep inside her pussy, her breath as ragged and hoarse as his. His eyes widened. So did hers as they both rocked their hips back and forth. She cried his name just as he jettisoned hot cum all over his balls and thighs. Before he could move, she took him into her mouth, licking the last drops off his glans and draining what remained within.

  “I think I know how we shall spend the rest of today,” she told him, licking his thighs clean of his seed.

  “If I recover before the night has ended,” he muttered, drawing her against him once more.

  With his taste still on her lips, his breath in her ear and one of his hands holding one breast she thought she could die happy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wednesday morning

  Adrian was sick of waiting for Walker to question Diane about their pasts—what she remembered, what she did not, how she felt about each man. More, he was tired of playing good guy to Walker’s bad guy. Hell, everybody knew how women always fell for the wicked, almost evil, less than heroic man. The fairer sex never saw the heartbreak they would face when—despite all their good intentions—the black-hearted knave remained a gambler, a sot, a rake. Or left the woman to bear the brunt of his despicable actions.

  Not that Walker gambled to excess or drank o’er much. In previous lives, Adrian had done both to excess and whored as well.

  Worse still, Adrian resented playing second fiddle.

  And now this pup, Jason Leveson. Why was he here, muddying the entire situation with his glowing eyes all but burning Diane’s clothing off her body? Not that she seemed to mind. She flirted with the whelp as if she welcomed his attentions. Didn’t she know Jason’s interest lay solely in getting her into bed?

  Realizing his and Walker’s intentions could be construed as no better than Jason’s, Adrian puffed out his cheeks and exhaled a huff. He’d worry about the lordling if Diane showed any inclination to bed him. Walker was his largest worry. Always had been. Likely always would be unless…

  He had today and tomorrow—never mind Diane’s ridiculous rules. Rules she’d already broken—to convince her he was the better man. The best man, he amended in case Jason stayed in the game.

  Squaring his shoulders, mentally girding his loins, he marched to Diane’s suite, determined to drive his rivals out of her mind.

  Adrian entered her sitting room without knocking, his blue eyes the color of glacier ice and just as cold. Diane was so caught up in his demeanor, she barely noticed Walker vacating his chair. Without a word, the duke sketched a bow and left, whistling as he closed the door behind him.

  “If you expect me to leave at this time tomorrow morning…” Adrian said, his voice tight with fury. His hands clenched into fists, he seemed ready to hit something. Or someone.

  “What I expect, Lord de Vesay, is for you to remember you are a guest in my home. I’ll not tolerate rudeness or belligerence from anyone—least of all from a man who has six mistresses.”

  “Had. My brother had—” He looked as if he wanted to bite off his tongue for confessing that.

  “So you admit to remembering Arnaud and his lovers. Do you also remember me? Our marriage? Did we have children? How many lived to maturity? How—”

  His raised hand made her flinch as if expecting him to strike her. Not that she believed he would—not when he stood frozen in the doorway to her room.r />
  “In truth, Diane, I cannot recall anything after you left me in our wedding bed.”

  She believed him. How weird was that? But maybe he’d only been a visitor to that time and place. Stranger still, she could almost believe that as well.

  Wanting to press him for more details about their lives, she decided to leave him hanging instead. “How many mistresses have you now?”

  Gape-mouthed he stared at her for a long moment before smiling his most charming smile. It almost reached his eyes. “None at the moment, but hopeful of winning one. Soon.” His eyes warming, he examined her from her upswept hair to her soft leather house shoes.

  Knowing the rose-colored dimity gown lent her skin a pleasing glow, she refrained from scolding when his gaze lingered at her bosom. Instead, she treated him to the same close scrutiny, her gaze clinging to the apex of his thighs. His cock strained at his buckskin breeches and he cocked a hip to better display his manly attributes. Ignoring the blatant invitation, she noted his silk waistcoat matched the bright-pink peonies embroidered at her neckline. His jacket, golden brown and well fitted, showed off his wide shoulders. She bet he could see his reflection in the toes of his polished Hessians.

  “Such sartorial splendor leads me to expect an outing,” she said.

  “I thought you would enjoy some fresh air.” He sniffed, making her aware of the lingering aroma of musk in the room.

  “The weather conspires against us.” Outside her windows treetops swayed in the windy gusts. Rain drenched the panes in fitful sheets.

  “There is the conservatory or the portrait gallery.” A smile lurking in his eyes, he added, “And the billiard room.”

  Her pulse quickened. “Where any servant or guest could wander in.” Heaven help her, the fear of being discovered added a certain spice she found irresistible. Or almost so.

  “You can order the servants to stay away.”

  She tsked. “Adrian de Vesay, I believe you want my other guests to find us in a compromising position.” Shaking her head, she told him, “Since they also have an interest in the outcome of this…competition, I doubt either will carry gossip to London. Compromising positions, discovered or not, will not serve you. Our reputations remain unsullied.”

  “Do they?” He sounded sarcastic, but his expression showed only concern. “Have you forgotten the horde that returned to London the night of your ball? The masses that left the day after?”

  Her face heated, but she held his gaze. “La, what is one more scandal after all that has happened before?”

  “Perhaps nothing to us. What about our children? If we have any, that is. What about our reputations when they want to bring friends home? The ton has a long memory and never truly forgets. All it takes to resurrect a scandal is a whisper of impropriety.”

  “You begin to sound like Walker,” she chided, not bothering to hide her displeasure. All she needed now was Jason spouting warnings about immorality and its consequences. And he barely out of Oxbridge! All she needed now was Adrian admitting they were stuck here forever. Ha! As if he’d admit anything! Shrugging off anger laced with depression, she gave Adrian a half-smile. “You—we seem to have spoiled the mood.”

  “Let me see if I can restore it.” Offering a smile and his arm, he opened her hallway door.

  Picking up a shawl Margaret had laid over a chair, Diane wrapped it over her shoulders. Adrian made minor adjustments, lingering over the swell of her breasts above the neckline and the valley between.

  “For a man lecturing about propriety, you take outrageous liberties.”

  “I plan to take many more.” With his warm hand at the small of her back, he guided her out.

  The conservatory ranked high on Diane’s favorite places to dine. The glass walls allowed Adrian and her views of the storm outside while keeping them safe and dry. Braziers provided heat and kept their food warm. Pillows and throws in brilliant colors made her think of sultans’ palaces and aromatic spices lingering on gentle breezes. Rare trees and verdant bushes screened them from prying eyes and provided a fragrant bower for the divan draped with sheer fabrics. A fountain gurgled nearby, flowing into a shallow streambed full of pale-pink water lilies and floating gardenias.

  “You went to some effort,” she said, touching his clean-shaven cheek, her fingertips lingering a little longer than proper. In truth, she shouldn’t touch him at all. In truth, even a widow shouldn’t entertain a man while unchaperoned. Not in such intimate surroundings, at least.

  What a hypocrite she was becoming! Out of bed with one man little more than an hour ago, yet worrying about chaperones while alone with another?

  “Your servants deserve all the credit. Though I am grateful you enjoy the setting.”

  Taking her hand, he guided her to the divan, settling with his arm draped along the back, his body so near she could feel his heat. Sandalwood and cloves from his cheeks and mouth tempted her to cuddle nearer and breathe in his scent. When he only looked at her, she relaxed against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. For several long moments they sat in companionable silence. A few minutes later, her eyes drifted shut.

  His featherlight touch tilted her chin. Soft lips brushed hers, brief forays she wished would last longer. A sigh parting her lips, she drew his face to hers, pressing upward as he pressed down. Their lips fused. Their kisses remained light, as if they had never kissed before and these were short voyages of discovery.

  “Open your mouth,” he whispered. She moaned a protest, but obeyed. Pineapple, tart and sweet, flowed over her lips and tongue and filled her mouth. When she swallowed, he used his tongue and drank from her cheeks and tongue and lips.

  Having his hand on her breast felt like heaven. When he slid his fingers beneath her neckline, she moaned and opened her mouth wider to stroke his tongue with hers. Light caresses explored the valley between her breasts, making them swell and her nipples pearl into aching peaks. Sweet agony. She wanted more.

  His hand captured hers over his heart. Its heavy beat raced against her palm. Wanting him to know she shared his need, she pressed his hand more firmly to her breast and arched her back to increase the blissful tension speeding her heartbeat to match his. Opening her eyes, she caught the gleam of satisfaction in his.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” he commanded.

  “I want to look at you,” she murmured. “I want to touch your skin.”

  “In time,” he promised, “just not yet. Close your eyes, Diane. Use your other senses. Enjoy every sound and touch, every taste and scent.”

  Sighing, she closed her eyes, but opened her mouth to say, “I didn’t realize pineapples had reached England.”

  “I’m not certain they have as yet.” Placing his hand over her eyes, he tsked. “If you don’t keep your eyes shut, I’ll blindfold you.”

  “Oh, all right! But I’m holding you responsible for all my questions. And believe me, if you lie I’ll know. Tell me about pineapples.”

  His hands circling her waist, he lifted her onto his lap. “Pineapples—so named I believe because they resemble pine cones. As to finding them in Regency England…” She felt him shrug. “You seem to have a strange influence over time.”

  “I?” Wanting to see his expression, she hid her face in her hands. “Explain.”

  “Later.” He tilted her chin, explored her neck with his lips, her ears and nape with his fingertips. Such light touches. So arousing, they left her breathless and aching with need. Only when her gown gaped at her back did she realize he’d unbuttoned it and had untied her corset laces as well.

  Shoving him away bared her front from shoulders to waist. On an outraged gasp, she opened her eyes just as his hands closed over her naked breasts. His eyes half closed, his lips half curved, his thumbs and forefingers plucked her nipples like a guitarist creating melodies on her flesh.

  Her eyelids drooped as she surrendered to the sheer pleasure of arousal. Her back arched and her head fell back, exposing breasts and neck to his tongue, his teeth, his greed
y mouth. It closed over one nipple and sucked the tender nub deep. Each pulse echoed in her pussy, wrenching pleas and purrs and pulses until ecstasy rippled through her and she sobbed his name.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders. With a sharp laugh of both pleasure and pain, he jerked away, her wrists gripped in his hand. In seconds she was on her back, her hands tied to the posts hidden by the fabrics around the divan. He’d put those sheer curtains to use as manacles.

  “I warned you not to touch me,” he whispered, laving her ear and down her neck to the tender spot where neck and shoulder joined. Tugging off his cravat, he tied it around her eyes.

  She kicked, taking joy when his breath whooshed out, but disappointed when he pulled her gown down her legs. She bared her teeth, not caring if he saw her outrage. She wished she’d kicked him where it would hurt much more. After all, he’d promised he would abide by her rules and only kiss…

  “You…you blackguard! Miserable miscreant liar! You vowed—” Walker had vowed, as well, and look at the liberties she had allowed him! Hypocrite!

  “Kissing you is all I’ve done. If the form my kisses take displeases you…’tis you who lied, Lady de Bourgh. Betrayed by your own body.” He ran his hands down her traitorous body, lingering a short time at her treasonous, pearling nipples, then down, parting her legs. She shivered as he rucked up her chemise, told herself it was because cold air coursed over her all but naked body. Yet when he dipped his fingers into her folds, heat and lust made her cry out.

  She could only imagine how she looked to him with her chemise below her breasts and above her waist, her garters and hose sagging between her knees and ankles. Her breasts and mons bare to his gaze—as well as to anyone else he might invite to witness her humiliation.

  “When I am free I’ll…I’ll cut off your balls and eat them for dinner!” Or perhaps she’d tie him naked to the dining room table then invite a passel of guests to stare at him. See how he liked that!