by Monica Burns
She’d never experienced this craving tightening her belly with Whitby. All thought of her past was obliterated as Simon kissed her again. With a soft moan, she leaned into him wanting more, but he pulled away and his lips curved in a wicked smile.
“Not just yet, sweetheart. Pleasure isn’t something to be rushed. It’s to be slowly savored, and we have all night.”
He circled her, the beautiful strength of his naked body outlined in every step he took. From the sculptured curves of his chest and arms to the sinewy line of his legs, he tempted and teased her senses simply by his mere presence. A shiver trickled down her spine when he stopped directly behind her, and the heat of his breath stirred the stray hairs on the back of her neck.
Sweet heaven, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to stand this excruciatingly slow seduction. She wanted to be in his arms, touching him and enjoying the pleasures of his touch in return. The intoxicating scent of him flooded her senses. It was a tantalizing mix of bergamot and something else. It was spicy and male, just like him.
Ever so lightly, he kissed the nape of neck as his fingers slowly undid the back of her dress. He didn’t say a word, and the silence between them thickened and grew hot. Trembling, she gasped as his mouth nibbled at her back, and he slipped her gown off her shoulders until it pooled at her feet.
~~~~
The tips of his fingers stroked the inside curve of Ivy’s thigh as Simon gently explored the bareness of her skin. Raising his gaze to meet hers, his fingers slid upward to the opening of her combination garment. She shuddered under his touch, and the intensity of her response to his touch hardened his erection until it stretched in a painful, yet oddly pleasurable way. Ivy didn’t say a word, but hunger filled her blue eyes. A hunger for him. The knowledge filled him with triumph.
As he rose to his feet, a sigh passed her lips. It was a sound of disappointment. Desire thundered through his veins with a strength that stunned him. Struggling not to drag her down onto the bed of furs he’d arranged on the floor, he reached out to begin unlacing the combination garment she wore. He’d promised her a night of pleasure, and he was determined to remain on his charted course.
Seducing Ivy with words was no longer just about seeing her come apart in his arms. It was about seducing her in a way that would bind her to him for a very long time. The thought stirred something deep inside him that made his hands grow still against her corset. He dismissed the emotion and continued unlacing her undergarment.
When she reached out to place her hand on his chest, he flinched at the heat searing its way into every inch of his body. If possible, his erection grew even harder. Christ Jesus, if she could excite him so easily with just a touch, what the hell would he feel when she clenched her body around his cock as he thrust into her.
He tossed her corset aside unprepared for the primal, possessive reaction he experienced. The air in his lungs evaporated, before he sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of her. The thin, fragile chemise covering the upper half of her body was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. It revealed all and yet held him at bay like a thin cloud shielding the sun. Her gaze met his, and again he fought not to take her at that very moment. Instead, he forced himself to follow through with his plans. Certain that touching her would be his undoing he focused his attention on her hair and slowly removed the pins from her dark locks.
“You remind me of Corinna in Marlowe’s translation of Ovid’s Elegia Five,” he rasped. With measured movements, he slowly removed the pins in her hair. “Do you know the poem, Ivy?”
“Yes,” she said huskily. Sultry and hot, the single word response made his mouth go dry.
“Then came Corinna in a long loose gown, her white neck hid with tresses hanging down.” Ivy’s hair tumbled downward as his fingers threaded through the satin like locks. Sheer silk wouldn’t have been any softer. “Tell me the next line, sweetheart.”
“Resembling fair Semiramis going to bed, or Layis of a thousand lovers sped,” she whispered with a note of hunger in her voice. He closed his eyes for a brief instant as he fought to keep his control.
“I snatched her gown, being thin, the harm was small, yet strived she to be covered therewithall.”
It was impossible to resist doing exactly what the poem stated. Firmly, yet gently, he tore the thin, delicate chemise off her body. Gasping, she instinctively tried to cover herself, but he shook his head.
“Don’t,” he growled. “I want to look at you.”
His desire held him rigid as his gaze devoured her. The sharp throb of his cock violently demanded for release. Bloody hell, he’d never wanted a woman so much in his entire life. Not even Elizabeth had sent his body into such a hardened state. The need to pull her into his arms battled with his need to make her experience the same dark level of desire grasping him so tightly. Determined to succeed forced himself to breathe.
“And striving thus as one that would be cast, betrayed herself, and yielded at the last. Stark naked as she stood before mine eye, not one blemish in her body could I spy.” His hand brushed across her shoulder, his will power fighting his body. “What arms and shoulders did I touch and see, how apt her breasts were to be pressed by me.”
Her nipple was a hard pebble beneath his thumb and a dark moan escaped her as she arched her body toward him. The heat of her skin sent a white-hot heat barreling up his arm and into his chest. She swayed toward him as he cupped her breast to suckle her. God almighty, he’d never tasted anything so sweet or intoxicating. He gently nipped at her rigid nipple, and her moan was a soft sob over his head.
“Oh God, Simon, please. I—” He ignored her plea and resolute in his determination to finish the poem.
“How smooth a belly under her waist saw I,” he rasped as he stroked her stomach and moved his hand downward. “How large a leg, and what a lusty thigh.”
The moment his hand reached her sex, he experienced an emotion so sweet and intense it sent shockwaves through his body. He couldn’t identify the feeling. He simply knew it existed whenever she was near. She moaned, and the scent of lilies mixed with the musky fragrance of her desire. From his first encounter with her in the library, he’d always known he’d make her his. But he hadn’t expected his own response to her to be so strong and fierce. Eager to feel her honey against his skin, he slowly parted the soft lips beneath her wiry curls.
“To leave the rest, all liked me passing well, I clung to her naked body, down she fell, judge you the rest, being tired she bade me kiss.”
Shock rippled through him as a slick wetness damped his fingertips. Slowly, he slid one finger up inside her heated passage. Christ Jesus. If mere words had made her this creamy, what would happen when she was wrapped around his cock? Her fingers dug into shoulders, and as he watched, her head fell backward and her eyes closed as she thrust her hips against his hand. The moment he found the small nub within her folds and caressed it, a violent tremor rocked her body.
“What do you desire, sweetheart?” he choked out.
“You,” she sobbed in a voice that echoed with the dark craving he needed her to feel. “I want you.”
Restraint no longer within his means, he tugged her down onto the fur blankets he’d had brought in for this very occasion. The feel of her silky skin against his only fueled his desire as his mouth sought her nipple again. A keening cry poured out of her as he tried desperately to hold onto his seed. His mouth went dry as he suckled her then moved his mouth upward to kiss her shoulder then the side of her neck. He’d reached his breaking point, and rolled her onto her back to hover over her.
“Tell me what you really want, sweetheart,” he rasped.
“I want you inside me.” Her sapphire eyes darkened with a hunger that clenched at his stomach. “I want you to fill me completely. Now.”
Without a word, he buried himself inside her slick, velvety core. Instantly, she uttered a cry of intense pleasure, her body arching upward to meet his thrust. Damn, she was tight. Hot and tight around his cock. Slick with h
eat, her body clung to him as he slowly retreated then pressed into her again. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue out over a taut nipple. Another ripple shook through the sultry core of her, gripping him like hot vise.
Quickly the rhythm of her strokes matched his as he plunged in and out of her. With each stroke, he pulled her to a higher peak. This was what he’d longed from the moment they’d first met—this intense pleasure. The strength of it tugged him into a wild frenzy as his body pumped into hers with a pounding need that consumed him. Beneath him, she sobbed her pleasure as he drove into her one last time. With a guttural cry he throbbed inside her, while her body clenched his cock with an intensity that stunned him.
~~~~
The sensations pouring over her skin were like a blazing fire as it cooled and became glowing embers. His face buried in the side of her neck, Simon’s breathing was as ragged as hers. Eyes closed, she savored the warm, heavy feel of him on top of her. Bergamot, mixed with the musky scent of hot skin and subsiding desired, teased her senses.
Ivy stroked the ridge of his shoulder, her fingers lazily tracing a path downward along his arm. As she reached his wrist, Simon entwined his fingers with hers and rolled onto his side with her hand in his. Silver eyes stared at their clasped hands with an intensity that puzzled her.
The silence stretched between them for several long peaceful moments all the while Simon studied their entwined fingers. Content to lie next to him in silence, she studied his preoccupied look. It was as if he were contemplating a weighty dilemma. When his gaze drifted to hers he arched his eyebrow at her. A wicked gleam of amusement glittered in his eyes, and she frowned.
“Something amuses you, my lord?”
“My lord?” Simon chuckled softly as he released her hand to gently tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I think we’re beyond such formality, Ivy. After all, as I promised you, I made you cry out my name quite loudly.”
“I’m delighted I amuse you,” she snapped as the realization of what had actually happened sank in. She’d allowed a man she barely knew to bed her. And in the library of all places. Ivy winced at the thought.
“I’m not laughing at you, Ivy.” A strong hand cupped the side of her face. “I was thinking about something Oscar Wilde said in the club the other day.”
“I see.” She eyed him with skepticism. “And what did the esteemed man say?"
“He said he could resist everything except temptation, and I have to agree on one point. You’re the one temptation I couldn’t resist, Ivy Beecham.”
She wasn’t certain how to reply. This was new territory to her. Whitby had been a brief encounter, but Simon was her lover. A lover she couldn’t afford to lose her heart to. Pushing the thought aside, she rested her hand against his hard chest. Beneath her palm, she could feel the steady beat of his heart.
“Perhaps we should take heed of another of Mr. Wilde’s observations on temptation. The only way to rid oneself of temptation is to yield to it. ” She glanced away from him as she spoke. “Since we’ve yielded to desire, I think it might be best if we free ourselves of its entanglements after tonight.”
Warm fingers caught her chin in a firm grip as he forced her to look at him. Assessment narrowed his steel-gray eyes as he studied her intently. Dear lord, what in heaven’s name had possessed her to say anything. In all likelihood, the man would think she was attempting to obtain a commitment from him. Under Simon’s intent scrutiny, Ivy averted her gaze.
The sudden movement of his head swooping downward caught her by surprise as he captured her mouth in a hard kiss. With skill, he teased her lips apart until his tongue tangled with hers in a swirl of heated passion. Seconds later, he lifted his head, his expression one of resolute determination.
“If you think to rid yourself of me, Ivy, think again. Tonight is only the beginning of temptation. Something I intend to make you yield to over and over again.” Simon’s silvery gaze locked with hers as his hand cupped her breast. The touch tugged at her body and she arched up into his hand. Passion flared in his eyes as her nipple hardened beneath his thumb. His swiftly growing erection pressed into her thigh, and her stomach lurched as she gave herself up to the pleasure of his touch once more.
~~~~
Soft thunder echoed in Ivy’s ear as she stirred from sleep. It was a soothing sound, and it took her a moment to comprehend where she was. The strong arm wrapped around her waist and keeping her backside snug against a hard, muscular body reminded her. A wild happiness streaked through her veins as he stirred slightly to press his body more tightly against hers. The coal stove in the corner of the room had apparently died as a slight chill filled the room.
She didn’t mind. Between the heat of Simon’s hard flesh and the furs that covered them, Ivy was quite warm, even a bit drowsy. She could easily grow accustom to the sensation. The thought made her heart skip a beat, but she didn’t have time to consider it any further as Simon’s mouth caressed the back of her neck.
“Did you enjoy your nap?” he murmured. With a smile, Ivy pulled herself out of his arms to sit up and glance at him over her shoulder.
“Yes, quite.”
“Good, because I don’t intend on letting you sleep. I’ve not had my fill of you yet.”
She reached for the glass of wine he’d poured her earlier. Goblet in hand, she pulled up one of the furs to cover herself. A second later, Simon tugged it off her.
“No, I like looking at you,” he said arrogantly.
“And I’m cold.” Ivy scowled at him as she pulled the fur blanket around her.
“I more than capable of correcting that problem.” His voice was soft as he slid his hand under the blanket to caress her leg.
Ivy shivered as his fingers slid upward to stroke her inner thigh. The suddenness with which her body responded to his touch alarmed her, and she quickly pushed his hand away then wrapped the fur tightly around her body.
“Behave,” she scolded.
“I am behaving,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m behaving exactly as any man would when looking at your beautiful body.”
“You’re impossible.” She laughed as he pulled her back into his arms until she cuddled up against him. Gently pressing her finger into his chest she met his amused gaze. “I think you enjoy being wicked.”
“I do.” He shrugged as his smile widened to a grin. “Even as a child I managed to get into more trouble than my sister ever did, and Abigail was always in trouble.”
“Were you that reprehensible?”
“Not as bad as that, but I did make our nanny quite frustrated at times.” A reflective look on his face, he stared up at the ceiling.
“What about your parents? I suppose they despaired of you on a regular basis?” Her words made him stiffen slightly.
“My mother died when Abigail and I were young.”
“Oh,” she gasped softly as she realized she’d caused him pain. “I’m sorry Simon.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said quietly.
“And your father?” At her gentle question, his mouth became a thin, harsh line of contempt.
“My father was a bastard.”
The cold, brutal statement made Ivy’s heart ache at the pain lying beneath the ferocity of his response. Whatever had happened between him and his father had left Simon angry and bitter. They were emotions she understood only too well. A warm hand swept a lock of hair off her face.
“And what of your childhood, Ivy? Did you misbehave?”
“Sometimes,” she murmured.
When her parents were alive, whatever her minor transgression, she’d been scolded and nothing more. It wasn’t until she’d gone to live with her aunt and uncle that she’d learned how cruel people could be. Her independent nature had earned her more than one slap in the face. It had taken only a few missteps for her to learn that defiance or a simple mistake always came at a price.
The physical punishments, while painful, had never compared to the cold, icy rejection her aunt and uncle had s
hown her. The painful memories tightened her throat, and she struggled to breathe. They’d punished an innocent child for her mother’s sin of marrying a commoner.
“And what criminal offenses did you commit?” he teased. She forced a smile.
“The usual transgressions,” she said with a shrug. “Caroline and I were always into something we shouldn’t have been.”
“Caroline? I didn’t realize you had a sibling.”
“I don’t. Caroline is my cousin.” Her short, impassive response made Simon shift his position until he was up on one elbow staring down at her.
“Do you ever see her?”
“No, I’ve not seen her since…” Ivy’s voice trailed off. She’d not seen Caroline since the day her cousin had left on her honeymoon. A knot welled up inside her until she was ready to choke on the pain and sorrow.
“Tell me what happened.”
“It was long ago and a story hardly worth telling,” she lied with a small shrug. The back of his hand swept its way gently down the side of her face.
“And yet it sounds as though you cared deeply for her.” The quiet statement ripped her heart open as she nodded.
“Yes, very much,” she whispered fighting to hold back the tears suddenly threatening to spill down her cheeks. “She made life with my aunt and uncle bearable.”
From the moment Ivy had arrived at Parkland Manor, Caroline had become the sister she’d never had. The two of them had been inseparable. On more than one occasion, her cousin had been her staunchest of champions. It was one of the things that had made Caroline’s betrayal so painful. Ivy had given her heart and body to Whitby, and Caroline had known that. It had made the sight of her cousin in his arms all the more devastating.
The old pain welled from deep inside her to pound away at every inch of her body. Ivy had not had the strength to confront her cousin. Instead, she’d locked herself in her bedroom for two days, refusing to allow anyone to enter. Not even her aunt’s imperious demands for entry had moved Ivy to open the door.
