Daisy drew a sharp breath, tilting her head back. No story in a book, this. This was real. As she felt his lips trace a line along her collarbone, her heart began to beat with such force, she heard its thud in her ears. Her body ached for his kiss and his touch, and she wanted him to do all the things he’d done to her that afternoon in the folly, but she couldn’t seem to speak, couldn’t bring herself to say that. She lowered her chin to look into his face, and wordless, she reached for his hand, lifted it in her own, and pressed it to her breast.
Sebastian opened his hand over her, and though the layers of her corset and chemise separated his skin from hers, she could feel the warmth of his hand against her breast. Desire began spreading through her body—she recognized it this time, appreciated just what it was. Like a wave of warm honey, desire spread over her as he shaped and cradled her breasts against his palms. Slowly, it deepened, heightened, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
She worked her hands between his, thinking to unfasten the hooks of her corset, but again he grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away. “I’m enjoying this, if you please,” he told her with mock sternness. “Don’t spoil my fun.”
“Well, you might have your fun a bit more quickly, Sebastian,” she said with a hint of exasperation.
He laughed softly under his breath. “I want you to enjoy this night as well,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her nose. “I’ve no intention of hurrying, so cease this impatience. To be done properly, lovemaking ought to be done slowly.” But even as he spoke, he was conceding to her wishes by freeing the hooks of her corset. “Lift your arms,” he said as he dropped her corset to the floor.
She complied, and he grasped the hem of her chemise. He pulled the garment up her body and over her head, and when he did, Daisy was seized by an unexpected wave of shyness. At the realization that she was now naked from the waist up, her earlier desire began slipping away like an image in the mist, and she ducked her head, but the sight of her breasts, bare and dotted with freckles, only made her feel even more vulnerable than before, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t a moment earlier. Suddenly she wanted to cover herself back up.
But when she looked at Sebastian again, his mouth was curved in that half smile that she loved. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured, his fingertips brushing her nipples, and Daisy’s sudden shyness dissolved away. For the first time in her life, she believed she might truly be pretty after all.
He bent his head, and Daisy thought he was going to kiss her, but his lips merely brushed hers and then he moved his head lower. When he touched his lips to her breast, a moan broke from her, and she felt her knees giving way again. Frantically, she reached behind her, groping for the brass footboard of the bed to help her stay on her feet.
He followed her move, taking a step forward. He lifted his hand to cup her breast, and this time, his warm, smooth skin touched her with no layers of fabric between. He bent his head to her other breast again, but he didn’t merely kiss her there this time. Instead, his lips parted and he took her nipple into his mouth. Sharp sensation speared her, and she gasped, arching toward him as her hands tightened on the footboard behind her.
He pulled her nipple gently with his lips, rolled it playfully against his tongue, toying with her. She shivered and moaned, clinging to the bed as hunger and need began to claw at her. It was the same need that she’d felt in the folly, but stronger this time, and more powerful because she knew what it meant, what it would lead to.
Her body arched toward him, wanting more, and as her hips brushed against his thigh, the contact sent shafts of pleasure through her body.
It seemed to spark something in him as well. He fumbled for the button of her skirt, found it, and unfastened it. The ties of her petticoat he freed as well, then he tugged both garments downward, sinking to his knees as he did so. Her skirts were disentangled from beneath her feet, and a moment later, he was yanking off her boots and tossing them over his shoulder.
“What happened to taking things slowly?” she teased, but her question ended in a startled gasp as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her knickers and inside her stockings to caress the backs of her knees. The contact sent delicious tingles up and down her legs. “What,” she managed to add in a strangled whisper, “happened to patience?”
“It’s disappearing fast, I’m afraid,” he answered, his voice as ragged as hers as he unfastened her garters. He slid off her stockings, then reached up and untied her knickers. As the silky nainsook fabric slid down her legs, Daisy realized he was baring her entire body to his gaze. Never had she been fully unclothed in front of another person, and yet she could not drum up her former embarrassment. She was beyond that now.
She touched a hand to his hair, drew one thick lock through her fingers, then brushed it back. A wave of tenderness came over her in that moment, a fierce, sweet tenderness she’d never felt before. When he leaned forward and kissed her stomach, a hot, wet kiss against her navel, liquid heat pooled in her midsection and radiated outward from that kiss to every part of her body. Heavens, she thought in wonder as she gazed down at him, was this what lovers did?
She felt his palm glide up her bare thigh, and her tenderness gave way to something far more carnal, far more greedy. She leaned back with a moan of accord, knowing what was to come, welcoming it.
The brass felt cool against her backside, but his touch scorching hot as he touched her in the same place he had before. And just as before, the caress sent shards of indescribable pleasure through her.
He knew that, he knew what she felt and what she wanted, and he seemed to take great delight in tormenting her with that knowledge. “You like that, don’t you?” he murmured against her stomach. “Don’t you, petal?”
“Hmm, hmm,” was the only reply she could manage, and she nodded frantically, just in case he didn’t understand that her inarticulate answer was affirmative. Somehow, his teasing words and his hot breath against her stomach made the sensations even more intense, the pleasure even more acute. Her hips moved, sliding against his hand as that hungry, desperate need took over, rising within her, carrying her toward the same luscious peak she’d felt before.
He dipped a bit lower, his tongue gliding down her abdomen, and something within her guessed his intent. “Oh, no!” she gasped, shocked, her fingers clenching silky strands of hair. But he was undeterred, and when he kissed her most intimate place, something seemed to ignite within her, and her protests gave way to a wholly opposite reaction.
“Yes, oh, yes!” she cried, shocked by the sound of her own voice ringing out with such wanton abandonment. The pleasure of this carnal kiss was indescribable; it washed over her in waves, each more intense, more exquisite than the last, coming again and again, until she was beyond words, until she could only breathe in quick, hard pants and her body was jerking frantically against his mouth, until at last, she collapsed, all her strength dissolving into sweet oblivion.
He rose, catching her before she sank to her knees, wrapping an arm around her. Once again he lifted her in his arms, and carried her around to the side of the bed, where he laid her down.
He stood over her, and with the candle on the washstand directly behind him, his body was only a silhouette against the dim glow as he began to undress, his broad frame a dark wall in front of her as he slid his shirt off his shoulders. With the draperies drawn at the windows blocking out the moonlight, she couldn’t even see his face, and when she heard his boots hit the floor, she felt a sudden throb of doubt.
“Sebastian?” she whispered as he slid his trousers down his hips.
The sudden misgiving in her voice did not escape him, and he hastily removed his linen and joined her on the bed. “It’s all right,” he said, caressing her cheek with one hand as with the other, he reached down to the floor beneath the bed and found the silk envelope he’d placed there before her arrival. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he slipped a condom free of the envelope, but though his cock was rock hard and his body ached for surcease, he didn�
��t put the condom on. Not yet. There were other things he needed to do first.
He rather shared Daisy’s apprehension. He’d never bedded a virgin, but he was fairly certain most of them did not find their first time a transcendent experience. He wanted Daisy’s first time to be different.
Kissing her and murmuring words of reassurance, he kept the condom in one hand as he slid the other between her thighs. She was wet and ready, but he held back, sliding his finger up and down the warm, silken flesh of her opening, savoring her soft cries and the undulating push of her hips against his hand as he pleasured her a second time.
There was, however, only so much restraint a man could bear, and though he relished her second climax as much as he had her first, by the time it came, his own body was screaming for release.
He withdrew his hand, slid the condom over his shaft, and moved on top of her, easing his larger frame between her thighs. Even through the thin layer of vulcanized rubber, the brush of her feminine opening against the tip of his penis was pure torture, but he strove to wait one moment more.
“Daisy,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper against her ear, “it’s time for me to be inside you. Do you understand?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but quickly went on, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t wait any longer.”
“Sebastian?” Her voice held a quiver of panic as he began to enter her, and her hips bucked as if to unseat him. He slanted his mouth over hers, kissed her hard, and thrust deep.
The sound of her pain was smothered by his mouth, but her arms wrapped tight around his neck and her body went rigid beneath his. She tore her lips from his with a sob, and buried her face against his neck. He stilled, fighting the need that was fast overtaking him. “I’m sorry, petal,” he managed through clenched teeth, “but you’ll be all right. I promise.”
Even as he spoke, he could feel the tension in her body easing. Hoping her pain was easing as well, he began to move inside her. As he did, he strove to be tender, touching her breasts, kissing her face, and murmuring words to arouse her, but the pleasure of her tight sheath around him, the convulsive clench of her muscles pulling him deeper, was irresistible, and Sebastian lost his head.
He increased the pace, each thrust harder, deeper, faster than the one before, as he drove toward climax, and when he went over the edge, everything within him shattered in a shower of white-hot sparks and settled into pure, blissful oblivion.
Chapter 17
A human being has a natural desire to have more of a good thing than he needs.
Mark Twain
She’d had no idea. If anyone had ever told her that sleeping with a man, lying with him, was like this, she’d never have believed it.
Sebastian’s body gave a final shudder, then eased down onto her. He felt solidly heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so. He was still…inside of her, joined with her in that extraordinary way.
The pain, thankfully, had subsided, leaving only the slightest sensation of soreness, rather like a parched throat or chapped lips. Physically, Daisy could only conclude that she was unharmed. Emotionally, however, she felt utterly at sixes and sevens. This…coupling had been the most singular and astonishing moment of her life.
It had been wonderful at first, even more wonderful than their afternoon in the folly, especially when he had kissed her and stroked her and called her lovely. As she had felt before, there had been a rising, thickening pleasure at his touch, followed by those euphoric explosions. Even now, just thinking about that part stirred and aroused her. But the part when he’d pressed into her, the stinging pain of his invasion had smothered the previous sweet sensations as effectively as a bucket of water smothered a fire.
He’d tried to warn her, prepare her, but she doubted any words could prepare one for this sort of thing.
His breathing was warm and quick against her temple. She could feel his arms beneath her, cradling her. And when he pressed a kiss to her hair and breathed her name, she felt a fierce and sudden wave of tenderness wash over her. She reached up, wrapping her arms around him. She began to caress him, running her palms over the smooth, hard muscles of his back, relishing this sweet, new feeling. The pain receded to insignificance.
He stirred, elevating his body slightly above her so that he could look into her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, repositioning his body with his weight on his forearms.
“I think so.” She drew a deep breath. “Is it always…like this?”
Something in her question or perhaps in the tone of her voice as she’d asked it brought an expression of dismay to his face. “No, Daisy, no,” he answered, pulling one arm from beneath her to touch her face. “It won’t hurt again, I swear to you. It’s only the first time that hurts.”
“That’s a bit reassuring,” she murmured, and clenched her muscles around him, again amazed at the strange sensation of being joined with another person in such a literal way. “No one ever told me about any of this. I mean, I’ve seen animals—” She broke off and shook her head. “But I was certain it must be different for people.”
“Alas, no. But if it’s any comfort to you, very few men are told about this either. I learned when some upperclassmen at Eton took me to a brothel. I was fifteen. She had enormous breasts and bad breath. I was quite disillusioned by the experience.”
Daisy couldn’t help laughing a bit at that.
He laughed with her, his perfect white teeth flashing in the dark like a pirate. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, then he shifted his weight. “I must be getting heavy,” he murmured, and she felt his hand slide between their bodies as he lifted himself free of her. He rolled away from her and rose from the bed, one fist closed as if he was concealing something in it.
“What’s in your hand?” she asked, curious.
“I’ll explain later.” Leaning down, he kissed her nose. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, and when he returned a few moments later, whatever had been in his fist was gone. Instead, he carried a bowl of water and a rag. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed the bowl on the floor.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she watched him dip the rag in the water and wring it out. He didn’t answer, but when he nudged her legs apart, she saw dark smears of blood on her thighs. No wonder she’d felt pain, she thought, for she knew it wasn’t the start of her monthly. He knew it, too, she realized, watching him as he gently wiped away the blood.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I know it hurt.”
“A little,” she admitted. “It isn’t—” She broke off, and gave a sigh. “It isn’t very romantic, is it?” she said a bit wistfully.
“Not the first time, no.” He stopped, his fist tightening around the rag. “I wish it could have been. For you, petal, I wish it could have been.”
He resumed his task, and as she watched him, Daisy felt that fierce, sweet tenderness welling up within her again, a bubble of emotion that pressed up, up, up against her chest, making her heart ache with joy, and she realized suddenly what it was she felt.
“I love you,” she blurted out.
His hand stilled, and she felt a throb of fear, though she didn’t know what, precisely, she was afraid of. It seemed an eternity before he looked at her, and when he did, her fear ebbed away, for he was smiling a little.
“So, you don’t think coupling is romantic, do you?” he asked, dropping the rag back into the bowl on the floor. He leaned over her. “Why don’t I show you how wrong you are, hmm?”
A tiny voice at the back of her mind whispered to her, pointing out what he hadn’t said, but when his lips touched hers, Daisy’s moment of misgiving vanished as if it had never been there at all.
Still kissing her, he eased his body down beside hers, his hand drifting to her breast. He began to caress her, and desire flickered to life inside her. “Is this romantic?” he asked as his palm covered her breast.
Daisy stirred, her desire deepening. “I’m not sure,” she demurred, trying to sound indifferent though she
suspected her smile rather ruined the effect.
“Not sure?” He laughed, a low, throaty chuckle. “Perhaps you prefer this?” He began to toy with her nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers.
Her smile vanished, and she had to press her lips tight together to smother her moan of pleasure. “It feels nice,” she said when she could manage to speak. “But romantic?” She considered, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Nice? he echoed, sounding a bit nettled. “Hmm, I can see I have some work to do.” His hand slid down, and his lips grazed her nipple. This time, she could not stop the moan that came from her throat, and she arched toward him, pretenses of indifference forgotten in the heat of these carnal kisses. When he pulled back, her moan became a plea.
He relented at once. His mouth opened over her breast, and she shivered, closing her eyes against the shameful excitement that ran through her as he took her nipple into his mouth.
He suckled her, his teeth and tongue closing over her nipple, teasing her, toying with her, drawing sensation from the very core of her. Again, she arched upward, and this time, he did not pull back. Instead, he suckled harder, and Daisy’s excitement spread, grew deeper and hotter. Her hips stirred restlessly.
As if she had given him a signal, his fingertips danced lightly down her stomach—another tease—and she couldn’t help the gasp of accord that tore from her throat. “Yes, oh, yes!”
This time, however, he did not give her what she wanted. Instead, he flattened his palm against her stomach with the tips of his fingers barely brushing the curls at the apex of her thighs.
With Seduction in Mind Page 22
