“You need to keep still,” she ordered with a provocative smile. She dipped her fingers once more and held his gaze, looking directly into his eyes as she painted the thick head of his shaft with wine.
A muscle jumped in his jaw that was suddenly tight, Madeline saw with satisfaction. He wasn’t the only one affected, either. She was certain Rayne could see the flush of her own arousal, the rapid flutter of her pulse in her throat.
She bent to his groin then, letting her tongue lick the sweet wine from his rigid flesh, making his breath hiss. His taste was hot and heady and highly arousing all by itself.
Holding his swollen member in a light grasp, she let her mouth close around him fully. When he groaned at the pleasure of it, she suckled harder, relishing her feeling of power at the way Rayne was responding to her touch.
His hips arching against the torment she was inflicting, he started to slide himself slowly between her lips, his hips rising reflexively off the chair, but Madeline would have none of it.
“Be still,” she commanded in a husky voice, “or I will stop.”
He obeyed, yet she suspected it required a great effort for him to maintain control as she explored him. His fingers pressed into the chair’s seat as she went on arousing him, her hands a continuation of her mouth, stroking, squeezing, taunting, while her tongue stimulated him relentlessly.
Finally he let out a soft curse and caught her hair to make her lift her head. “Enough, witch.”
He was staring down at her, his eyes dark with need. Knowing the expression in her own eyes was one of hunger, of craving, Madeline gazed steadily back at him, this beautiful man who made her heart and soul ache.
Desire throbbed thick and heavy between them as Rayne’s gaze traveled from her wet lips to her bare breasts, to the taut nipples that were already straining for his touch.
“Come here,” he demanded.
Not giving her time to refuse, he grasped her shoulders and drew her up, pulling her astride his thighs. Madeline, however, had no intention of denying the deep, powerful longing inside her. Her body burned for the completing fullness of before, the bliss of being joined to Rayne in the most intimate way possible. She was dizzy with wanting him.
Pleasure, desire, need, all driving her on, Madeline eased herself over him, preparing to mount him, but to her surprise, Rayne stopped her.
“No,” he warned at her eagerness. “Slowly. Hover over the tip of my cock … tease me first. Then without warning plunge onto me.”
Holding his gaze, she lowered herself slightly, rubbing her slick, swollen sex against the hard, thick ridge of his member. It gratified her to see the flames that sparked in his eyes.
Vowing to outlast his control, she held herself there, just hovering over the tip of his throbbing erection, barely touching, teasing the sensitive crown with her sleek heat. Taunting him further, Madeline arched her back, her breasts thrusting out to graze his mouth, the nipples pebbled and hard.
The difficulty, however, was that her brazen movements were arousing her as much as they were him.
Rayne must have seen the feverish desire in her eyes, for he reached down between their bodies and cupped his hand against her cleft, stroking her provocatively.
Her nerves shook.
“Want me?” he ground out.
Yes, she wanted him. She wanted desperately to feel him silky and hot inside her. She was already wet and aching for him.
“So what do you intend to do about it?”
Needing no further invitation, she sank down to envelop his shaft, impaling herself. The tight, glorious fit of his hard flesh in the slick softness of hers sent a fierce rush of renewed pleasure spiraling through Madeline—and evidently Rayne as well. He swore beneath his breath as her feminine sheath enveloped him.
She felt the shudder that went through him, wracking his body, and her sense of power swelled further, along with her own arousal.
His jaw clenched with need as his hands closed over her buttocks. He held her there for a moment, then lifted her and brought her back down so that he could thrust even more deeply inside her.
Then, to her bewilderment, he suddenly inhaled a ragged breath and gripped her hips to hold her still.
“You have too much control,” Rayne muttered hoarsely under his breath.
Reaching for the wine, he repositioned the goblet to clear a space on the table’s surface. Even more surprisingly, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks for support and stood up with her, then turned and set her on the edge of the table beside the wineglass.
Madeline clung to him, scarcely believing he meant to withdraw from her when her body was so primed for him.
Thankfully, he didn’t; Rayne kept his thick shaft planted firmly inside her.
“Lie back,” he instructed.
He meant to take her on the table, she realized in gratitude. Madeline obeyed, although she was trembling enough that he had to help her.
When she was splayed before him, his pulsing hardness holding her pressed wide open, he continued watching her. His glance seared her skin, just as if he was caressing her with his lips, with his warm breath. Then raising her hand, he drew her forefinger into his mouth, suckling, all the while making no effort to disguise his blatant appraisal of her body.
Madeline gasped as he made love to each of her fingers one by one. The erotic caresses, combined with his sensual scrutiny and the feel of his rigid heat deep inside her, made her loins throb even more fiercely. The sensations were feverishly intense, with all that barely leashed vitality focused on her.
A moment later, however, Rayne changed tactics. Releasing her hand, he reached for her rib cage and slid his thumbs upward to brush the underside of her breasts, shooting fiery sparks through Madeline.
When he pinched one nipple into an obedient pout, she clenched her teeth. “Do you mean to torment me?” she rasped.
His slow smile was part wolfish, wholly enticing. “Oh, yes. Exactly as you are tormenting me.”
Dismayingly, he eased his manhood from her body, although he remained standing between her parted thighs. Madeline almost cried aloud in disappointment, yet Rayne wasn’t finished with her. He dipped a forefinger in the wine and rubbed it over her lips and down her throat. She drew another sharp breath at the cool, sweet feel of the liquid. Then rewetting his fingers, he shifted to her stomach, drawing swirling patterns on her skin before moving back up to her jutting, naked breasts.
“Rayne, please….”
“Hush, darling. Begging me won’t do any good.”
As he spoke he coated her tight nipples with wine, his slick fingers plied the aching buds, pulling and caressing the engorged tips.
Dangerous. Oh, this man is dangerous, Madeline thought dazedly, closing her eyes.
Then he suddenly left off, drawing back his caressing hands. Madeline’s eyes flew open in confusion.
“You need to offer your breasts to me so I can suck them.”
“Rayne …” she started to protest.
“Now, love, or I’ll stop at once.”
She couldn’t bear for him to stop. She wanted his mouth on her naked skin, her fever-hot breasts. She wanted his mouth … everywhere.
Biting her lower lip, Madeline lifted her hands brazenly to the wine-scented mounds of her breasts.
“Now play with those lovely nipples. Pretend your hands are mine.”
Her fingers plucked at the crests, just as Rayne had done.
“A wanton woman,” he said approvingly. “How provocative.”
She was indeed a wanton woman. She felt primitive, carnal, exquisitely female.
Yet Rayne didn’t suck her nipples as he’d promised. Instead his gaze raked down her body, his eyes hot, touching her everywhere. Then his head lowered slowly to her belly to lick at the wine he had traced on her skin.
He took his time, as if he intended to savor her at his leisure. His tongue teased her with maddening delicacy, playing her masterfully with taunting spirals and erotic touches designed to
devastate. Madeline shivered with pure wanton pleasure. Then finally, finally, he moved up to her breasts.
She gave a muted cry when his hot mouth closed over her budded nipple, sucking it sharply. For long moments he lavished attention there before attending the other breast with as much ruthless tenderness, making Madeline whimper and arch involuntarily against the exquisite pressure.
“Hungry?” he demanded in a taunting whisper. “I am, but not for food. It’s your pleasure I’m starving for.”
Placing one last kiss on each of her aching nipples, he raised his head. Using both hands then, he spread her legs even wider, positioning her silky body open for his pleasure, and smoothed his hands up her inner thighs.
At the feel of those sensuous fingers gliding upward, Madeline tried not to squirm. Yet her hips stirred and shifted, lust making her feel restless to the point of screaming. From the sensual glint in Rayne’s eyes, she could tell what was to come.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “Your body is impatient, but you aren’t allowed to move.”
How could she remain still when he knew precisely what to do to make her wild?
Coating his fingers in wine once more, he painted the dusky triangle of curls between her thighs, then the lips of her sex, dewing the hardening, aching flesh with glossy moisture.
With fierce effort Madeline forced herself to lie still as she watched her own seduction, arousal searing through her, dark and thick, as his hand cupped the rise of her silky mound, molding her.
Then Rayne stopped once more. Dragging his brilliant gaze over her in a lazy caress, he smiled devilishly.
“Touch yourself for me, darling, between your thighs.”
Responding willingly, she let her legs fall open further and slid her fingers into the moisture between her folds.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice very low and intimate.
“Yes,” Madeline rasped. “More than ready.”
She felt on fire as liquid heat poured into her center; she burned there. When his fingers cupped her again, it was all she could do to keep from moaning.
Holding his hand still, Rayne captured her gaze with his. The air around them shimmered with sexual arousal as he leaned closer.
“I want to taste you everywhere….”
He bent down to her, breathing in the heat and wet scent of her body, then pressed his mouth against her mound, kissing her cleft. “You’re so sweet and tempting.”
Madeline moaned aloud as ravenous hunger swept through her.
“Good, you’re hot for me,” he observed, his voice deep and resonant and sexual. “That is exactly how I want you.”
His hands were on her buttocks now, his tongue lapping the wine from her feminine folds, suckling the throbbing bud of her sex. She shuddered as he feasted on her but nearly came up off the table when his tongue thrust into the hot, quivering core of her.
At her helpless response, Rayne applied himself to the task of really making her moan. He tortured her with exquisitely slow thrusts, using his tongue with devastating thoroughness. In only moments Madeline was panting, her body arching wantonly for him, her fingers clutching in his hair.
“That’s it … I want you writhing and hungry.”
“Rayne, merciful heaven, please….”
She was dimly appalled to realize she was begging. But he only held her surging body down, his mouth pressed hard to her, clearly savoring the soft cries she made, the breathless moans.
At last he relented. “Why don’t I let you come now?” he murmured before giving her one final, fierce caress with his mouth.
Madeline climaxed with a scream, her teeth bared in fierce, primitive surrender as a powerful firestorm rocked her.
For a full score of heartbeats afterward, she lay there sprawled senseless while Rayne continued to kiss her softly between her legs, absorbing the rippling aftershocks with his mouth.
“You look like a woman who has just been thoroughly pleasured,” Rayne observed finally, his tone satisfied.
“You are a fiend,” Madeline muttered, opening her eyes.
The slight curve of his lips radiated male arrogance. “No, merely a skilled sensualist.” He took her hand and brought it to his naked loins, stroking her fingers with the velvet-sheathed hardness of his arousal. “But I’m weary of exerting all the effort. It is your turn now.”
Requiring no further urging, Madeline reached for him. Her need to feel possessed by Rayne was as fierce as her desire to please him. Parting her thighs in eager welcome, she keened a soft moan as he sank his rigid shaft into the hot haven of her body. When he began to move inside her, she wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. His movements were sensual and powerfully controlled, the intensity of his expression spellbinding, his eyes hard with desire.
Yet his restraint fractured eventually, as did hers. Her blood pumping wildly, she began to jerk her hips, her whimpers turning to sobs.
“Madeline….” Rayne grated her name between his teeth, his voice harsh with the same urgency that was now knifing through her, his beautiful face taut with pleasure.
His answering growl inflamed her. She was on fire again, burning for him, and knew she couldn’t hold back much longer. She was in agony, sweet tumultuous agony. And so apparently was Rayne….
All his muscles quivered, straining with hunger, as he fought for control. When she clawed at his back, his control shattered with enough force to make his body convulse.
He exploded inside her, frantically groaning his release against her mouth. Moving with the thrusts of his body, Madeline felt every pulse beat of his hot, shuddering climax before she erupted in her own, her inner muscles spasming again and again and again.
When it was over, he collapsed against her, his face buried in the silk of her shoulder, his breath ragged in her ear.
He held her pulsating body until the glorious waves of ecstasy finally faded. Then, weakly, Rayne eased himself off Madeline and helped her to sit up.
“I suggest we have Bramsley serve dinner,” he murmured. “I for one am famished. Lovemaking always gives me an appetite.”
Still in a love daze, Madeline felt stunned by his callous words. How could he be so cold?
When Rayne lifted her from the table so she could stand, she clutched his shoulders for support, since her limp knees wanted to buckle. Yet as she stared into his eyes, Madeline realized she hadn’t been mistaken about his detachment; Rayne was deliberately pushing her away.
It was clear she hadn’t touched any of his emotions with her attempts at seduction. If anything he was even more distant now than on their wedding night. There was passion in his touch, yet the tenderness he’d once shown her was entirely missing.
A hollow ache tightened Madeline’s chest. Rayne was an amazing lover, generous with his body but not his heart, and the way he had of holding back while giving to her carnally only underscored the vast canyon yawning between them.
Another wave of shocking longing swept over Madeline. She was desperately hungry for more than carnal pleasure with Rayne; she frightened herself with the strength of her want. Yet she couldn’t tell him of her love, for it might drive him even further away.
Feeling unaccountably wounded, Madeline moved unsteadily over to where her dressing gown lay pooled on the floor. Picking up the garment, she drew it on to shield her nakedness—and her vulnerability.
Then she forced herself to smile at Rayne, determined to pretend that his coldness hadn’t caused her such intense pain.
“Perhaps we should dine downstairs after all,” she said lightly. “We don’t want your servants to suspect we have been making inappropriate use of this table. I will dress and meet you in the dining room in half an hour, if that is agreeable?”
“Yes, that is agreeable.”
Vowing not to show her hurt at his cool indifference, Madeline turned away and headed toward her bedchamber.
Rayne watched her leave, torn between guilt and relief. It had taken all his willpower to resist M
adeline’s endearing attempts at seduction. Then she’d smiled that enchanting smile again and he was lost. When he’d made love to her, he felt her warmth, her wetness pulling him deeper and deeper. He wanted to impale her until he drowned in her.
Clenching his teeth, Rayne swiftly began to dress. He was losing the battle with himself, despite the memory of his past betrayal. He would have to gird his loins much more forcefully, so to speak.
He pulled on his pantaloons with a jerk, reminding himself of all the reasons he had to be wary of Madeline. She hadn’t drugged his wine as another female spy had once done, yet she had ratcheted up her seduction with an aggressiveness that even Camille had never dared use.
Throwing on his dressing gown, Rayne stalked from the sitting room. Madeline held him trapped in a web of raw need, but it was time to break free. Tonight he would begin laying his own trap for her in order to uncover her true intentions.
Chapter Sixteen
It is doubly painful, Maman, to see my cherished hopes endangered by my own brother.
Throughout dinner Madeline managed to pretend a nonchalance she didn’t feel. Rayne maintained the same cool detachment as earlier, with no intimacy or tenderness or humor or the provocative banter that had marked their relationship before their marriage.
When he announced his intention to spend the next few days in London, Madeline was not certain whether to be disappointed or relieved. At least during his absence she could take stock of her failing campaign and perhaps consult with Fanny and the Loring sisters to revise her strategy.
Surprisingly, Rayne mentioned where in his study his safe was located—hidden in the wall behind a George Stubbs painting of a Thoroughbred racehorse—and where he usually kept the key—in a jar in his bedchamber wardrobe. His good-night kiss was a bare brush of her lips, though, so Madeline retired to bed despondent.
Rayne was gone from Riverwood when she awoke the following morning. Depressed and bleary-eyed, she had to hurry to make her class at the academy on time. And when she arrived home shortly after noon, a letter was waiting for her.
To Tame a Dangerous Lord Page 27
