She searched her mind for a suitable response to his admittance, but nothing surfaced. Meanwhile the impact of his sensual confession sent an intimate shiver skittering down her spine.
She tried to meet his gaze. Truly, he was a sight. His eyes were again unreadable, all emotion locked away tight. He wore no coat and his white shirt hung open at the collar to reveal a dark vee of skin, enticingly handsome and dangerously forbidding. His words implied passion and promises and her heart leapt at his suggestion, yet the entire scene frightened her. Did he realize she would willingly fall into his arms in total abandonment were he to pull her forward?
Her heart thundered and her hands trembled at her sides. She took a small step backwards, full knowing she had no intention of leaving him in the hallway. Perhaps he feared she would flee, because his arm shot out and snatched her against him, his eyes glinting veiled in black. How dare he be angry with her? He’d urged his solicitor to investigate her past. Did he expect gratitude in return?
“So quiet all of a sudden.” He released a disjointed breath and drew her closer still. “Tell me, did he kiss you?” He slid his hands to her shoulders and angled his head, his lips a sigh from her own. The heat of his question against her ear sent a ripple of desire straight to her toes. She measured the pressure of his hold, tight and impatient. Everywhere their skin touched, burned with emotion. And something else. Lust, passion, barely controlled desire. A forbidden fantasy come to life. She leaned into his strength, the broad press of his chest a tantalizing sensation against the thrumming beat of her heart.
“Did he kiss you like this?” His husky murmur caressed her cheek, and he brushed his lips against hers, hardly a touch as his hands traced the length of her arms, the fingers of one hand splayed across her back to hold her in place, the other on her bottom, cupped in a lesson of possession that connected their bodies in all the most intimate places.
He kissed her with a fierceness that left her breathless and unsatisfied, dazed and wanting. Oh, he proved a master at keeping his eyes void of feeling, but his kiss told no lies, as honest and vulnerable as if he bared each emotion of his heart.
This kiss was no impulsive expression. He branded her with the power of his lips and swept inside to touch her soul, join their hearts. All other kisses evaporated from memory. His kiss deepened. Hostility and anger dissipated, replaced by raw desire, stoked by the hot, erotic, sweep of his tongue.
She linked her arms around his neck and intertwined her fingers in his hair to pull him closer. He growled in response and his tongue bid entrance, running a persistent line against the seam of her lips. She submitted on a soft sigh of acquiesce. Some pesky thought chided her to object, but she tamped it down, her heart in command with a warning chant all too soon this would be a memory. She wanted with desperate longing to keep a clear vision of this moment locked in her heart.
His tongue rubbed against hers with carnal imitation of the act itself. Delicious rubbing, thrusting, caressing, his teeth nipped, his tongue tasted, as they stood in the hallway, losing themselves and a piece of their souls to the embrace that held them captive. She skimmed her hands across his broad shoulders, down his strong arms, his muscles tensed and flexed in answer to her impatient touch. And still his mouth demanded more with deep greedy kisses that made her head dizzy and her knees weak.
When at last he pulled back the scantest of spaces, she rested her forehead against his chin, unsteady and dazed, as if she floated above herself, awake and asleep, lost in a faraway dream. He exhaled and the brush of his beard against her skin sent a shiver of anticipation to the depth of her belly and lower. Somehow he managed to twist the doorknob. He stepped backwards, his arm extended to pull her along.
The door closed with a definitive click.
He brought her into his arms, enveloped in the heat of his possessiveness, her cheek pressed to his bare skin. She heard his thundering response beneath the solid wall of his chest. She blinked back tears and pressed a kiss over his heart.
“Lexi.”
His voice overflowed with emotion and a throb of despair gave her pause. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes dared tears at his ragged plea. She made to pull away. He held her in place.
“I shouldn’t be here with you, but I can’t stay away. No matter what I tell myself, it never proves a strong enough reason.” His hands skimmed her back in a restless gesture, unable to release her, yet resistant to pull away.
“But I want you here.” Her soft admission grazed his skin.
“You shouldn’t. I’m not good for you.”
“Shouldn’t I determine that? Is every decision to be made for me? It is the very reason I left Brentwood.”
His chin rested on top of her head and he placed a soft kiss to her hair.
She had worn it in an elaborate style, the opera a formal affair, but he paid no heed, his fingers at work to release her coif, the pins landing on the floorboards in soft little sounds of wickedness. A shudder of anticipation quaked her soul. “I want you, Devlin. I want you here with me.”
He smiled at her confession and held her chin, his eyes glittering in reflected candlelight. “I’ve missed my name on your lips.” He didn’t say more and captured her mouth in a kiss that expressed every word unsaid. If her kiss was of innocence, his was pure sin. She melted in surrender to the magic of his mouth.
She made no objections when her fancy silk gown slipped from her shoulders. Nor did she object when he released each pearl button down the back of her dress as deftly as a lady’s maid. Her gown shimmied lower, and still she uttered not one word. A rush of cool air caressed her skin and she warmed with the knowledge she stood only in chemise and silk stockings. He pulled from their kiss and an anxious groan revealed his reluctance. She thought to protest in a belated act of modesty, but he silenced her with a finger across her lips.
“No, you are so lovely. Let me see you. I have envisioned you so many times.”
His voice, husky, a little broken, caused her heart to ache. What emotion did he try so desperately to conceal? Even now, as she stood before him, exposed in the light of two candles, in nothing more than ribbons and silky tapes?
He drank her in as if he sought to memorize every curve and slope and she flushed with vulnerability.
“I ordered these pieces for you, chose all the finest fabrics and styles, but I never imagined –– and, Lexi, I’ve endeavoured with my best effort –– how exquisite you look in chemise and stockings.”
She made to remove her slippers. Her hair fell across her shoulder and draped to her waist.
“No,” he objected. “Stay as perfect as you are right now.”
His gaze smouldered hot against her skin and he lifted her as easily as he’d captured her heart. With precious care he moved to the bed and placed her on the velvet coverlet. She rose on one elbow, about to speak, and he leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss meant to reassure her doubt. Instead, it stoked the fire of passion that leapt between them like flames in the hearth.
He reclined beside her, drinking her in, then captured her mouth in a sensual assault. A familiar whimper of desire escaped. His eyes glittered and a satisfied smile curled his lips.
Damn it all, he couldn’t resist her. He was a man that took what he wanted and gave little worry for the consequences. Lexi had changed all his beliefs and now he cared almost too much to proceed. Almost. He was no fool; only a man whose body was drawn tight and hard for the woman posed in exquisite beauty on the bed’s coverlet.
His fingers itched, uncertain where to venture first. She looked more breathtaking than his fantasies, a lacy vision of delicious curves and irresistible silkiness. He threaded his fingers through her hair, shimmering gold and starlight, and her blue eyes widened with delight. He savoured her reaction, anxious to devour her with the heat of his passion. He plundered her lips and captured her gasp in a smile against her mouth. One hand held her cheek, their kiss inseparable, while his other hand untied the thin ribbons of her chemise.
In less than an exhale, the silky fabric puddled at her waist, her body acutely aware to the scrutiny of his gaze; the lush turn of her breasts, the enticing pink nipples, puckered in invitation to his mouth. She arched with impatience at his low growl of appreciation and he shifted his weight to balance on one elbow and encase her body in shadow. His mouth found her breast, the peak sweet and hot against his tongue, and she shuddered with pleasure, her restless movements a temptation to abandon all control.
His body strained with desire, barely kept, and each time his tongue laved her breast, she gave the sweetest sound, soft and erotic. All logical thought evaporated, replaced by the basest need. He grazed his teeth over each peak, tight and delicious, and she whispered his name, a mixture of plea and entreaty. He forced himself to release her and look into her eyes.
In nary a breath of time, an ethereal bond was forged, a connection that joined them for ever.
She reached upward and clasped his neck to pull him forward, his lips to hers, and grant his wish. He responded with all the emotion in his heart and she answered, tentative at first, but with equalled passion, in a way only Lexi could. Her fingers tightened in his hair and her nails raked his scalp in an erotic entreaty. Pleasure shuddered to his soul. She held him tight with breath-stealing kisses that demanded he recognize her decision to be his.
He growled his appreciation and slid down the length of her luscious body, taking the chemise with him. He licked her navel as he passed and skimmed his fingertips across the edge of her silk stockings. His breath panted hot against the quivering skin of her thighs. For a fleeting moment her body tensed as he deftly untied the tape of her underclothes, the small scrap of silk opened with ease. He rolled her stockings down, a trail of kisses in each wake, and his tongue tasted her exposed skin, the smooth glide of fabric a sensual caress as it too fell away. He removed her slippers and stood, his breathing a shuddering rasp in the silent room. She lay bared across the linens, as perfect as any dream and more beautiful than a love poem. Something twisted in his chest, but he pushed the sudden pain aside, a need more demanding alive in his veins. He slid his shirt over his head and returned to the bed, anxious to pounce on her, devour her in one bite, but no, Lexi was meant to be savoured. He would not rush.
Her touch proved tentative at first. She splayed her fingers through the dark patch of hair spanning his chest then slid her hands across his biceps. The tip of her pink tongue darted out as she assessed him and the innocent motion found him nearly undone.
He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that had nothing to do with laughter and everything to do with sensual promise, and smoothed his palm across her flat stomach; lower, to the fleece at the apex of her thighs. And still, his Lexi did not stop his exploration; her everlasting trust awed before desire demanded attention, urgent and unyielding.
His fingers found her warm and wet and deliciously ready. He stroked her with infinitesimal control, the threads of his restraint badly frayed. When she bucked instinctively against his caress and whimpered with pleasure, he found a steady rhythm that matched his strained ardour and begged her to find release. Her restless movements obsessed him with want. All time stopped. Only they existed.
She cried out and her hips rose in a gentle arch. He lowered his mouth to taste her, his hot breath against her skin, and she opened to him, as naturally as if she’d waited always for this moment. His whiskers brushed the inside of her thigh, velvet against silk, and she shivered deliciously from the sensation. He did it again, revelling in his ability to make her quiver. Anxious, he ran his tongue along the same spot to soothe her trembling. When he kissed her, hot and wet, the friction of his tongue against her slick skin strained him to the vestiges of control. He would never last. He stroked her again, desperate for the taste of her, wanting it never to end. She called out his name when exquisite pleasure found her and he withdrew to view the beauty of her climax. Her eyes were closed, her lashes crushed against her cheeks, her body offered in total surrender; and he fell a little further in love, into the dark abyss of his heart.
He came up the bedcovers to lie beside her and kissed her with a tenderness that denied every conflicted emotion piercing his soul.
“I never have … I don’t know what.” She paused, unsure of what she meant to express. “You are a wicked man. Wicked and wonderful.” He gathered her into his arms and held her against his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Reeston believes me the biggest kind of fool.”
They lay intertwined on the bed, Alexandra in her white lace robe and Devlin only in trousers. The grandfather clock in the hallway struck three, but they paid no heed of the time. Alexandra absorbed his warmth to the centre of her soul. She dared not spare a minute of their intimacy to sleep.
“Why do you say that?” She traced small circles on his skin, his forearm anchored to keep her pressed to the wall of his chest, his breath a whisper against her hair. The possessive gesture thrilled her and she wriggled closer in wait of his answer. “Devlin?”
“I like my name on your lips.” He smiled, at least she thought so, but then he nuzzled the back of her neck and kissed a path to her ear, annihilating her effort to think.
As he withdrew, he exhaled against her shoulder as if he chose his words with care. “Aside from the fact you’ve charmed every member of this household, including my dog, Reeston believes I should stop thinking, and thinks I should start feeling. Or something like that. He did not find me in the most receptive mood when he imparted the advice. Although I do remember his scolding that I couldn’t possibly hope to see the future if I barely noticed what I have in the present.”
He muttered this in a low tone and grasped her hand where she drew figures on his arm. He laced his fingers with hers, entwined, palm to palm. She stared at their hands, clasped in the intimate gesture.
Did he hope to bind her to him for ever? The intimacy they’d shared was indescribable, but too, it was just one night. They did not have for ever. In truth, they didn’t even have this evening. It was just one moment, one wonderfully exquisite, life-altering moment. She could not build a life on one moment no matter how breathtakingly perfect it seemed.
“What do you think of Reeston’s advice?” The tentative question caused her pulse to thrum with expectation.
His body stiffened, hardly at all, but with her back pressed to his chest, there was no denying the involuntary flex of muscle.
“In the short time I’ve known you, Lexi, you’ve become more important than any other person. You’re my every thought. Lord knows, I can’t not think about you. I’ve tried.” His low chuckle rumbled through her. “You’ve become a part of me as surely as my heart beats. And,” he cleared his throat, “while you were out with Addington, my chest grew so tight with the worry you wouldn’t return to the manor, or that I’d never see you again or hear your voice, I barely breathed often enough to get through the evening.” He paused and in a wry tone, added, “If you saw my study, you would understand.”
“But—”
He wouldn’t allow the interruption. “You asked me. Now let me finish before I lose the courage to tell you my feelings.” He squeezed her hand and tightened his hold, perhaps as fortification. “As much as I know these things and want selfishly to share them and make you mine, I also know you were meant for a different life. A life without me. Not because my aunt appointed me your guardian and asked me to find you a husband, but because I care too much to condemn you to this solitude. It is not a future I would wish for anyone.”
She waited, her heart demanding she respond with every pounding beat. “I would give it all away for the chance to spend my life with you.”
He didn’t move and his silence held the weight of untold secrets and denied emotions. She needed to make him understand, her future, her choice, her love to give. She couldn’t see his face, held so tightly against his chest. She measured each breath, inhale and exhale, as if she took air from the motion. Then he twisted to the side, kissed the top of he
r head, and rose to pull his shirt over his head.
She sat up abruptly, her objection tumbling from her lips. “Where are you going?”
“It’s almost morning. My valet won’t know to look for me in your rooms.” He offered her an audacious wink and continued in an offhanded tone. “You know, Reeston thinks I should court you, and so I shall. Do I have any competition? Is Addington coming back?”
She sighed at the teasing note in his voice, anxious to answer and assuage his concern. “No, I convinced Henry to stop pressing suit and if he keeps his word, he will persuade my father we are not well matched. Henry will continue to call on my father. That should appease the situation. Inevitably I will need to write to my father and explain, but I hold hope for a peaceful resolution.”
It was an odd collection of statements, but between the two of them, it made sense.
“Then may I have the pleasure of escorting you to Hasselby’s ball. It is the largest fête of the season and if I venture a return to society, I may as well face the demons at the grandest event of the year.” He chuckled. This time, the sound as rich as brandy. “Although it may prove beyond a doubt, I indeed have a broken mind.”
His strove to keep his tone light, but Alexandra knew it cost him much to take this step. And then there was the gossip. “The ton’s opinion means very little to me. I don’t care what they choose to believe.” She needed him to know she would endure anything put forth, if he stood by her side. He leaned close and kissed her forehead. His lips lingered for a long moment before he pulled back and moved to the door.
“Yes, you do. You just don’t realize it yet.” His voice dropped low and she hugged back a shiver. “One thing remains certain. They may say what they will about me and my choices, but God help them if they so much as utter a single word against you.”
Duke of Darkness Page 17
