His Silken Seduction: A brotherhood of spies in Napoleonic France (The Aikenhead Honours Book 4)

by Joanna Maitland

  Ben stood back to let Suzanne precede him into the silk store. Her walk was unconsciously alluring. He found he could not take his eyes from the seductive sway of her hips. The folds of her light muslin skirt were opening and closing with a hypnotic rhythm, like an oyster responding to the ebb and flow of incoming waves. This oyster concealed a pearl, for she was a pearl of a girl. She should be gowned in silk and lace, not workaday muslin, he decided. Her lustrous beauty should shine against a backdrop of the finest fabrics.

  He followed her into the depths of the silk store. In seconds, he found he was shivering.

  She turned at that moment. "Oh, how stupid of me," she exclaimed. "It is cold in here and you have nothing to keep off the chill." She looked round the storeroom, but there were neither blankets nor shawls, only the finest silk and velvet. She allowed a tiny smile to tug at the corner of her mouth as she reached for a bolt of dark blue velvet. With a practised flick of the wrist, she unrolled the sumptuous cloth. "That will do, I fancy. Light as a feather, and warm enough. Also delicate enough to ensure that no weight will fall on your poor wounded shoulder," she added, with a note of sarcasm in her voice.

  Without giving Ben a chance to object, she slipped behind him and draped the velvet around his body like a cloak.

  She was right. The velvet slithered across his skin like a caress, yet it weighed no more than gossamer. But it was much too beautiful for a man to wear, especially a man hung with coarse bandages.

  Suzanne stepped round in front of Ben to assess the effect. "You should have a lighter blue, I think." She cocked her head to one side. "Something closer to the colour of your eyes." She gazed round at the stored fabrics, but all the velvets were of rich, deep colours. She sighed. "A pity." Then her face lit up. "Perhaps a contrast is what we need," she said, with a distinct laugh in her voice. "I wonder…"

  Ben watched, bemused, while she selected a deep red silk from the shelf by the door. She whisked the velvet from his shoulders. Then the useless bandages were plucked away and dropped on to the floor. "Raise your arms, if you please." She could have been a mantua-maker, giving a fitting to a lady customer.

  Ben wanted to laugh. What on earth would this amazing girl do next?

  She surprised him yet again. She began to wind the silk tightly round and round his body so that it covered him from chest to thigh. He was no longer at risk of shivering. He was now much, much too hot. The evidence of that was embarrassingly plain, in spite of the layers of sheet he still wore next to his skin. The outline of his erection was blatant, painted in the bright accents and dark shadows of rippling red silk. Oh, the woman was a witch. But it was what she wanted. He could not deny her. He remained motionless, waiting.

  Suzanne looked at her handiwork and laughed softly, deep in her throat. The temptation had been overwhelming. And the result was more than satisfying. Indeed, it was splendid.

  She allowed her gaze to roam over her captive's body. The pale skin of his muscled shoulders was still marred by fading bruises and the ugly healing scar of his wound. Apart from that, he was beautiful. The gleaming silk emphasised the strong lines of his chest. Lower down, she had pulled the fabric taut to show off his narrow waist and hips. The additional effects there were unintended, but altogether delightful to behold, even for a girl who lacked first hand knowledge of the ways of desire.

  She chuckled again, wondering whether Benn had any idea of quite how irresistible he looked. At that moment, the light changed. Perhaps the clouds had parted? Whatever the cause, Suzanne would have been ready to swear that there was white lightning forking around Benn's erection, rather than common silver threads.

  She took a step towards him and brushed the back of her index finger along that straining ridge. His sharp intake of breath urged her on. She smoothed both her hands slowly around his middle, from his navel to the small of his back, and then down over the swell of his buttocks. It seemed he could not move. He groaned out her name.

  The sound shivered all the way down to her toes. If she continued now, there could be no going back.

  She did not hesitate. She leaned in to him and pressed her body along the length of his. She could feel the sparks jumping between them; the lightning was piercing her, too. Deep in her belly, there was now a hot, melting ache.

  "Oh, God, Suzanne. I cannot—"

  "Hush." She stopped his protest with a long, drugging kiss. She could not tell him that she loved him. Not in words. Her kisses would have to speak for her.

  It seemed they had. Benn's fingers were already at the back of her gown, seeking to undo it. A bubble of laughter began welling up inside her. Had he been too busy spying to notice that modern gowns fastened at the front?

  "Ouch." He had caught his finger on a pin. Automatically, he pulled away from her and put his finger to his mouth.

  Suzanne gave her laughter free rein for a second, but Benn did not join in. Did he think she was laughing at him? She reached for his hand. Yes, there was a tiny drop of scarlet on the tip of his ring finger. "We cannot risk this on the silk," she murmured, carrying it to her lips. His blood tasted sweet on her tongue. She sucked again, then nipped his skin with her teeth.

  His whole body tensed and he drew in a long shaky breath. It took him a moment to speak and, when he did, he voice was tighter and higher than normal. "You are…you are entrancing," he managed at last.

  Suzanne placed his hands on the front of her bodice. Then she closed her eyes. She wanted to glory in the touch of his fingers as he undressed her. She wanted to picture it in her mind's eye, as if she were watching his every move through a mirror. He was slow and deliberate, carefully removing every pin and smoothing out every tie. She swayed a little when her petticoats joined her gown in a heap of froth around her feet.

  He took both her hands in his. "Will it please you to step out of your muslins, lady?"

  Suzanne smiled dreamily. She had no need to see, for she trusted the hands that supported her. She took two steps forward. Apart from her stockings, she was now wearing only her stays over a fine lawn chemise. If she opened her eyes now, if she saw how he was looking at her, she would probably blush to the roots of her hair. Better, much better, to remain in comforting darkness.

  He stumbled backwards against a shelf of fabrics. Bolts of cloth began to roll on to the floor. Startled, Suzanne opened her eyes. Hampered by the tight silk around his body, Benn was trying, and failing, to catch the precious materials before they landed. He was muttering under his breath. English curses, she supposed, glad that she could not make out the words.

  She crouched down quickly and began to gather up her fallen treasures. There was little harm done. The floor was clean.

  "Forgive me, Suzanne. My confounded clumsiness. It always catches me out, especially when I most want to appear in control."

  She lifted her head just enough to gaze up at him through her lashes. She hoped she looked as seductive as she intended. "You wish to be in control now?"

  "Yes."

  "Of yourself?" She waited for a beat. "Or of me?"

  His only response was a deep groan.

  Suzanne rose. It took only seconds to restore the fabrics to their places. She picked up the cutting shears from the end of the lowest shelf and offered them to Benn. Her stay-laces could only be loosened by nimble fingers, which Benn clearly did not have. And, in any case, it would take much too long. The ache in her belly was urgent.

  He was staring at the scissors in his hand as if he had never held such an implement before.

  Suzanne put her fingers over his. She leaned forward so that the bare skin of her throat and upper bosom was touching his chest above the red silk. "I need you to see all of me, Benn," she whispered, offering him her lips once again.

  He seized her and began to kiss her even more passionately than before. He sucked at her lower lip, then bit it gently before sucking again. Slowly, he brushed the tip of his tongue along the full length of her lips. He pushed into her mouth, tentatively at first, and then with thrusts
of increasing desire. He was pulling her body so tight against his own that the cold steel of the scissors was crushed into her flesh. Suzanne did not care. She was being held, being kissed, by the man who had captured her heart. Very soon, he would take her body and make her fully his. She wanted only that.

  The scissors must have stabbed him, for he pulled away abruptly. Suzanne's gaze was drawn to his eyes, so wide and dark with passion that there was almost no trace of blue. His lips were parted, and swollen, as hers must also be. They desired each other equally. It was perfect.

  Chapter Eleven

  She had placed the scissors in his hands. She wanted him to use them. She wanted him to free her of the remainder of her clothing, to feast his eyes on her body and to use his clumsy fingers to touch the essence of the amazing woman she was.

  Ben's whole being was awash with desire. This beautiful, passionate girl was offering herself to him. It seemed she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He slid the scissors under the lowest loop of her stays and closed the blades. They glanced off the heavy lacing. The corset remained intact. He tried again, snapping the blades together with greater force. The result was the same. He growled in frustration.

  Suzanne gave a low chuckle. "Poor Benn." She took the scissors from his hands. "I had forgotten you are left-handed. Unfortunately, my scissors are not." With deft movements, she severed the laces and dropped the scissors back on to the shelf. She was breathing fast now. The corset had been pushed apart by the rise of her bosom and was hanging loosely from its ribbon straps.

  Ben swallowed. Then, very slowly, he put his hands to her shoulders and pushed her stays aside. They fell to the floor, landing with a soft thump on the pile of muslin behind her. That left only her chemise. It was so thin that he could see every contour of her body, her erect nipples, her dark navel, the shadow at the junction of her thighs.

  He needed more than shadows. In a single swift movement, he seized the hem of her chemise and lifted it. He did not need to ask her to raise her arms. She was before him.

  "You are beautiful."

  She smiled up into his face, accepting the words that were no more than her due. Then she allowed her gaze to travel slowly over his bare shoulders, over the red silk, still tight around his chest, and down, and down. She lingered over the evidence of his desire. "You are beautiful, too." She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and glanced up at him through her lashes. Her eyes were dancing now. She reached for the edge of the silk.

  He caught her hand and held it still. "Ah, no, my dear. Not yet. First, it is my turn." He scanned the shelves, pushing aside and then discarding silks and velvets. "Yes. This one, I think." A length of delicate gold silk shimmered as he lifted it down. "You shall be wrapped in gold tissue, as befits a princess."

  When she opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her with a short, hard kiss. "Indulge me, I beg of you." He glanced down at the red silk he wore like a badge of honour. "As I have indulged you."

  The blush began between her breasts and rose to cover her throat and then her cheeks. For the first time since they had entered the silk store, she seemed shy. But then she raised her chin and nodded.

  Ben felt her response, deep in his gut. She would be his. But not yet.

  He shook out the fine silk and flung it over Suzanne's shoulders, as she had done to him with the blue velvet. It must not be a cloak, however, for that would hide her beauty. He had something much more revealing in mind. "Raise your arms a little, if you please, lady." A frown flitted across her forehead at his use of her own words, but she did not hesitate. With fingers that seemed to have forgotten their earlier clumsiness, Ben stroked the silk over her shoulders and round her arms before crossing it behind her back. Her arms were pinioned. Her eyes were sparkling.

  He brought the free ends round to the front of her body and crossed them again, over her thighs. There was plenty of material left to tuck round behind her calves and under her heels. He stood up to admire what he had done. From the front, her arms and legs were all swathed in gold. A diamond of flesh remained open to his gaze—the narrow base of her throat, her breasts, her swelling hips, the V of her belly narrowing down to the shadow that had tempted him through her chemise. He let his gaze rest there for a moment longer, but desire was overwhelming him. He bent to take one pouting nipple into his mouth, sucking lustily. Suzanne moaned and leaned into him. Ben transferred his mouth to the other, neglected breast. This time she did not moan. She shivered instead.

  Ben raised his head and took a step back. "A diamond," he said throatily, drawing the shape in the air. He reached out to brush each glistening nipple with the tip of a finger. "A diamond set with two gleaming rubies." He touched his lips, very lightly, to one nipple and then the other. "A glorious picture in a gilded frame." He bent and bestowed a final kiss on her navel. He would come to the essence of her, and soon, but not until she was ready. He straightened once more and gazed into her eyes. "Would you have me remove these golden trappings? Or should I see whether there are better foils for your beauty here?"

  "No," she said softly. "No more." She lifted her heels to free her bonds and shrugged her shoulders. The golden silk whispered across her bare skin and sank reluctantly to the floor. Her arms were free. Her body was naked, proud and ready.

  Ben reached for the end of his own red silk.

  "No. Let me." Slowly she unwound it from his body, feathering tiny caresses on to his skin as she turned him beneath her hands. When the folded sheet was all that remained, she began to smile, a little. "I do not think this belongs here." With a jerk, she pulled it away from his body and flung it out of the silk store. She sank to her knees and blew a long hot breath over him. "Only the most precious materials have a place here," she said softly. "Only the most beautiful. Which we now have."

  Ben did not dare to move. His blood was pounding in his ears. It had to be soon. Without the glorious release of making love, they would both shatter.

  It was Suzanne who made the first move. She reached up to pull the pins out of her hair, so that it tumbled down over her shoulders and on to her breast. Very deliberately, she rose from her knees, tossing her head to ensure that her golden curls tickled and teased at his flesh. His reaction was somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

  Very satisfying, she decided. There would be no going back now. She put her right hand on his chest, directly over his heart. She could feel its rapid beat. She smiled her message into his eyes. She was willing. She had to make him understand.

  A deep breath hissed between his teeth as he knelt to spread the silks on the floor and to make a pillow of her petticoats.

  "No!" she cried.

  He sprang to his feet. In an instant, his eyes had changed from black to piercing blue. He raised his chin and stared down at her through narrowed eyes. "No? Of course it is no. I promised to protect you, yet I am on the point of robbing you of your honour." His cheeks were slashed with scarlet. His mouth was a hard, uncompromising line. But he made no attempt to cover his proud nakedness.

  Suzanne had desired him before. Now her longing was overpowering. This man, the man she loved beyond reason, had allowed her to take him to the brink of fulfilment, yet he was ready to stop at a word. He was doing her honour, not robbing her of it. She gestured towards the silks strewn on the floor. They were her family's future. They must not be damaged.

  "Not here." She held out her hand to him, watching as realisation dawned and his gaze mellowed. When he put his fingers into hers, she threw open the door and led him towards the welcoming light of her own bedchamber.

  Ben tried to lift her into his arms, to carry her across to her bed and lay her between cool sheets. He needed to show her how much he valued her gift.

  She shook her head and pushed away his arm. "You are not strong enough yet. You will reopen your wound." She closed the connecting door and turned the key. Then, with graceful strides, she crossed to the main door and locked it also. She was smiling serenely when she turned
back to him. For a moment, she leaned her shoulders against the wood, stretching her spine so that her breasts rose invitingly. "No one will disturb us." She crossed to the bed and threw back the covers. The gauzy bedgown slid to the floor, unheeded.

  Ben's mouth was dry. He could hardly believe that his wonderful girl, his amazing Suzanne, was offering herself to him. But she was. She was stretched across the bed and beckoning him to join her.

  He lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms for a long, passionate kiss. Desire was driving him. He felt no pain at all. His injured shoulder flexed as well as it had ever done. He swept his right hand down her back and cupped her bottom. Then he trailed his fingers delicately up the back of her thigh. She shivered deliciously. He deepened the kiss yet more, glorying in her uninhibited response. She was ready for him. She must be.

  He had to be sure. He touched a finger to her inner thigh and let it drift upwards to the core of her. She moaned in response and opened sweetly to his touch. She was more than ready. But, driven though he was, he knew he must go slowly. She was his more than willing partner in this seduction, but it was still her first time. It had to be perfect.

  He pushed her gently on to her back and nuzzled his way down from her mouth to her breasts, and then to her belly and the tender skin of her inner thighs. The first touch of his tongue at the core of her made her gasp and buck with shock. "Hush, my sweet Suzanne," he crooned, without lifting his head. "Lie still and let me give you pleasure. Feel the waves."

  The waves soon became so strong that Suzanne thought she would drown in the wonder of it. Her whole being was focused on that single point, where Benn's tongue was creating such unimagined, piercing pleasure. All at once, it became too much. Her whole body spasmed. She heard herself crying out his name.

  A moment later he entered her body, in one long, sustained thrust. She thought she felt a hesitation, but then it was over and he was inside her, fully sheathed. She had wanted this. And it was everything she had desired.