He smiled and glanced down at himself with what she thought was a slightly nervous gaze. “I hope I am an interesting subject for your first study.”
“You are, indeed,” she murmured, pulling her fingers from his and moving forward to trace the fascinating lines of his bare chest. She felt drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, and that image shocked her system out of its fog.
Moths died in flames. That was exactly what she was meant to avoid by choosing Henry, by enacting this wild plan. She had to stop losing herself in the anticipation and thrill of this moment, and remember her goals.
She yanked her hand back and lifted it to her chemise. She pulled and it fell at her feet. And now she was naked. Exposed. She forced herself to lift her chin, observing how his pupils dilated and his hands clenched at his sides like he wanted to touch her but was holding himself back.
That was right. This was what she wanted. To use what he desired against him in the game he didn’t even know he was playing. And if there were other benefits to that game, well, she would take them, but that would be her choice. Not something she lost herself in.
Reestablished in her power, she sank down on the settee and took a deep breath before she lay against the cushions and opened her legs a fraction.
He muttered a curse, his cheeks growing red and the outline of his…the books called it a cock…pushing insistently against his trouser front fall. It looked dreadfully uncomfortable and she hoped that would convince him to move this along.
“Evangeline—”
She smiled up at him, cool and collected, or at least that was the incantation that flowed through her head. “This is what the books show, is it not? I open to you and you take me.”
“That sounds rather clinical,” he said, but he dropped to his knees on the floor before the settee like he was preparing to worship.
Her lips parted despite that cool and collected chant in her head. Seeing him on his knees and preparing for service to her was…it was wildly erotic.
“This is how it’s done, trust me,” she said, her tone too husky, but she had no way to stop it from being so.
“You are reading the wrong books,” he said before he reached out, his hands smoothing across her bare stomach, up her sides, and then his thumbs traced the line beneath her breasts.
She arched beneath the touch. It wasn’t something she chose to do, her body had to when he touched her and sensation went wild in her nerves.
“I believe you are to remove your trousers and…” She blushed. “Er…put your…your…your…”
“Yes, I realize what the end result is, I promise you,” Henry said with a broad smile that lit his handsome face. He really was very beautiful. Why had she never fully comprehended that before?
“Then why aren’t you—”
“Evangeline, I could remove my clothes and pump three times into you and be done with it,” he said, and his voice grew low and dangerous. “And I would very much enjoy that, I’m sure. But I think that would violate the tenants of science.”
“The tenants of science?” she whispered, her voice catching as he slid this thumbs up and over the crest of her breasts, teasing what were now very hard nipples. She turned her head against the settee pillows with a low moan.
“Any new venture,” he said, leaning forward to press his mouth not against her lips but her stomach, “requires a bit of exploration. And I intend to do just that. So please stop trying to rush me.”
Evangeline would have argued. She had to argue. This seduction, this pleasure that crested through her entire body, that wasn’t what she’d come here for. But she was not given the opportunity to do so. Before she could exhale even a syllable, he leaned up on his knees and laved his tongue over one nipple.
The sensation of his thumb had been nothing at all compared to this. A jolt of electric pleasure crested through her entire body, bordering on pain, it was so intense and powerful. She heard herself moan, loud enough that she was glad no servants were in residence at present. Releasing that sound, letting go just a little, it made the sensation all the greater, and she squeezed her internal muscles, flexing her sex as he sucked her nipple.
She looked down at him and was shocked that he was watching her as he worked at her body. His pupils were fully dilated so that his gaze behind his spectacles was dark rather than the usual green. His breath came short, but he continued to focus on her.
And she realized he was watching her reactions. When she responded, he continued doing whatever he was doing. When she didn’t, he tried something new. He was…experimenting. A test of her control and her pleasure.
But that wasn’t what was meant to happen. This was supposed to be her way of getting what she wanted, not anything else. She struggled to sit up and leaned into him, tilted his chin up and kissed him.
He fell into her, lifting himself by those surprisingly strong arms and crushing his weight onto her body. The warmth of his skin merged with her own, and within seconds the kiss softened, deepened. She wrapped her arms around him and clung as he settled between her legs. She felt the hard pulse of him at her center and lifted out of instinct to rub herself against him.
Once again, pleasure ricocheted from that contact, and she gasped as the kiss broke. He stared down at her as he rubbed against her gently, letting the fabric of his trousers stroke along the slick heat between her legs.
Evangeline had touched herself before. It was a regular occurrence in the night, in her bed. Finding that release of quick, sharp pleasure was something that relieved tensions and helped her remain in focused control. She felt the echoes of the pleasure she gave herself as he arched against her yet again.
And then he was gone, dragging his mouth down her throat, her breasts, her stomach and across her hip. She squirmed beneath him as her skin came alive, as her blood burned, as her body lifted and none of it was in her control.
“That…that isn’t what we’re meant to do,” she gasped as he placed a warm hand on each of her thighs and spread them wider so there was a bigger place for him. He was even with her sex now, watching her. He licked his lips and her body trembled.
“Evangeline, Evangeline,” he murmured, almost crooning. “In such a rush. Study is the joy of life. I’m not going to deny myself that. And I admit, I have always dreamed of doing—” He leaned in and she felt the heat of his breath against the tender, wet flesh of her slit. “—this.”
His tongue darted out and he traced her lower lips in one long, smooth sweep. She jolted at the sensation and her shoulders jerked up off the cushions as she stared down at him.
“Henry?” she said, guiding her hand to his hair. She meant to push him away, but as he licked her a second time, her fingers somehow pushed him closer.
He chuckled against her body and the vibration of that wicked sound made her flop back with a groan. This was no echo of that pleasure she secretly gave herself at night. This was a magnification. Something bigger and broader and oh, so much better.
He peeled her open with his thumbs, massaging gently as he licked her again. She felt him watching her, gauging her. A jolt of her heart told her to deny him her reaction. To control this. But that faded away as pleasure mounted and she felt herself let go at last. Maybe for the first time ever. Let go and surrender herself to him.
He smiled against her, she felt it rather than saw it, and the licking began again, this time in earnest. He laved her folds, he burrowed within them, and at last she felt him tap the tip of his tongue against the hood of that center of her pleasure. No book she’d read had ever named it, but she knew it. And he seemed to be acquainted, as well, despite his inexperience.
He swirled around her as he gently smoothed the hood aside, and suddenly the sensations magnified. She arched up, waves of pleasure hitting her. Too much, not enough. More. She wanted more.
He gave it without hesitation, swirling and licking and finally, when it seemed like this torture had gone on for a lifetime, he sucked her.
She fell over the ed
ge with a scream that could have broken windows. She clenched the pillows of the settee, tearing at them as wave after glorious wave of release roared through her. She ground against him as she reached for more, as she begged for more with the jolt of her hips and the roughness of her cries.
She had no idea how long it went on. How long he continued to stroke her until she went weak, her legs shaking so hard she knew she couldn’t have supported her weight with them. Luckily, she didn’t have to. When at last she went limp, only then did he draw his tongue from her.
He traced his mouth up her body again, gently tasting her flesh as he rose up over her, covered her. She readied herself for the next part. The part she’d heard described as laced with more pain than pleasure. After that explosive power of what he’d just done to her, she was ready for the rest.
And yet as he leaned over her, his gaze flitting over her face, he didn’t rush to claim. He leaned in and kissed her. She tasted salty sweetness on his lips. Her body clenched at the pleasure of that flavor. Her flavor.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, and it wasn’t a manipulation. She was ready. Ready for him.
He wrinkled his brow. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Yes. I assume you will take me now.”
He stared down into her face, and she saw him struggle with wanting exactly what she asked for. Saw him struggle and conquer with the control she, herself, didn’t feel.
He kissed her once more, this time gently, and said, “I have no intention of doing so, Evangeline.”
Chapter 10
As Henry rolled away from her, Evangeline sat up, clutching her hands to her naked body as the exposure she felt multiplied. “You have no intention of doing so? What do you mean?”
The lilt to her tone echoed in the room around her and she froze. She’d heard that before. From her mother when she was begging Evangeline’s father not to go. Not to fail her. Not to be who he was.
Her stomach turned and she got to her feet and snatched her discarded chemise. She tugged it over her head, smoothing it down her body so she was no longer naked while he was half-clothed. When she faced him, he was staring at her. Reading her, damn him. Like she was a project.
“You are angry,” he said.
“Of course not.” Except he was right. She was angry. And embarrassed. Those strong emotions she normally did not allow were terrifying. “I am merely confused. Please explain yourself, sir.”
He tensed at the formality, but then he bent for her dress and handed it over. She snatched it, stepping into the fabric and reaching around to try to fasten herself. After a moment of helplessness, she glared at him. “Well?”
He moved behind her, gentle as he closed the gown. She walked away as soon as she was dressed again and folded her arms as she faced him.
He arched a brow. “How about you start, Evangeline? After all, you are the one who has something to hide, it seems.”
She sucked in a breath as if she was offended, but in truth she was taken aback and needed that time to compose herself. Could he see past her façade? How?
“I hide nothing, Mr. Killam. I came here in honesty and laid myself bare for you. Actually bare.” She didn’t like that the words she said were true, not just a manipulation. “And you…I don’t know what you’re doing or what kind of game you are playing. Did you do this to hold something over my head?”
That was a very painful thought. And not very different from her own intentions, so her mind turned with guilt and worry in equal measure.
“No,” he said immediately, and with force. “I’m just not as foolish as you seem to think I am, Evangeline. I can see your mind turning on some kind of plan. Some kind of reason why you would come here and so brazenly demand not only to be pleasured, but to be ruined. And by me! Me, who you have never noticed beyond a funny little friendship between goddess and bug. I merely want to know the reason. Especially after what just happened. I think I’m owed that before anything more takes place that can’t be undone.”
Evangeline drew a breath and wished it were not tellingly shaky. He was demanding answers, which was not what she’d expected when she chose him for this foolhardy plan of hers. He was challenging her, and that challenge felt like one she could lose. Perhaps she had already lost it when she gave over her pleasure in long, powerful waves against his tongue. When she wanted more, not for a plan but for herself. When she felt a longing for this man that had nothing to do with anything beyond the way she felt when he gathered her in his arms.
Panic rose in her chest, pushing at everything else. His expression softened, as if he could see that panic. As if he understood. He moved on her a long step and caught her hands before she could evade him. He squeezed them gently and the fear subsided a fraction. A calm came over her that was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
“Evangeline,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”
That demand caused a hitch in her she’d never expected. A bending she had avoided all her life. A yearning more powerful than physical need. She pulled her hands away and put her back to him, carefully reassembling the walls she’d always kept between herself and everyone else in her orbit. When she felt she’d done that, only then did she speak.
“I am going to be honest with you,” she said. “Perhaps I should have been from the beginning, it might have kept this entire situation more in line.”
“What situation?” he asked.
She drew a long breath and then looked at him. It was harder to say this when she did that, but she needed to look at him. Needed to see his reaction as well as hear it. She needed to show him how controlled she was.
“I’m looking for a husband, Henry. And I’d like him to be you.”
Henry took a step backward and nearly deposited himself on his arse. His ears rang and his hands tingled as those strange, unbelievable words filled the small room around them. He opened his mouth to speak, but found he could hardly draw a breath, let alone formulate a word in response. Still, he struggled to manage it and finally croaked out, “Husband.”
She stared at him, those dark blue eyes unreadable now that she’d returned herself to a cooler, more collected version of herself. Not the woman who had arched beneath him in pleasure, that was certain. “What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Think? I think I need an explanation.”
Throwing up her hands, she paced away. “I just gave you an explanation.”
His frustration mounted and he folded his arms as he glared at her back. “Evangeline, saying you need a husband and you’ve decided it should be me is a preamble, not a damned explanation, and I know you’re clever enough to recognize that. Stop playing games, stop trying to control whatever you’re trying to control, and tell me the truth. The only way I can make my next move is by having all the damned information.”
She pivoted to face him, her cheeks pale as paper. “You’ve never spoken to me in such a way before.”
He blinked. “It’s ungentlemanly perhaps, and I will apologize for that later. Right now I think it is best for us to just be honest with each other.”
She worried her lip a moment. He couldn’t help but track the action. Want to claim her mouth again as he had a moment before. And yet everything had changed since she entered this room. Nothing could ever be the same again.
“Very well,” she said, and he heard the tremor beneath her tone. The…fear. Evangeline was afraid and that set him back a step. Afraid of him? He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell. But afraid of something.
“Why don’t we sit?” He motioned to the settee where he had ravished her. She blushed, but followed his direction and they sat together.
She pushed her shoulders back. “I am a woman living in a time of men,” she said. “I may have power, I know I have power. I use it carefully and I hope never cruelly.”
“I’ve never seen you be cruel,” he said softly. “Often the opposite. I know you play savior to many a young woman who needs the benefit of your influence.”
&nb
sp; She turned her face. “I—no, I just—I—”
He drew back at her stammering and uncomfortable expression. “There is no reason to be shy about it.”
“I don’t do it so anyone sees,” she said with a shrug and a half-glance his way. “In fact, exactly the opposite.”
“I know. And I doubt anyone watches you more closely than I do,” he said, wondering how that confession would be received.
Her lips parted a fraction and she tilted her head. “And why do you watch so very closely?”
Clearing his throat, he ignored the question. The answer was not one that would help him at present. “So you have power. How does that relate to you looking for a husband and deciding it would be me of all people?”
She shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “Yes, of course. I have power, but in this world, it will always be limited by my sex. My father wields my destiny, for better or for worse. He has mostly kept out of it. His heir was his main concern and my brother is situated nicely. When I didn’t make a match, he allowed my younger sister to wed a year ago, which seemed to satisfy him. I play hostess since there is no duchess, and I think that has kept his mind from turning on whatever he would gain from matching me. Or it…it did.”
His brow wrinkled. “You think he would match you against your will?”
“He would not think of my will or wishes and still believe he was helping me,” she whispered. “A few times recently he has mentioned my future in terms of marrying me off, and I know the kind of man he would pick.”
“One of his stature, I would assume,” Henry mused, and there was a kick of something dark and dangerous low in his belly. Jealousy, he supposed. Hate for a faceless man who would have Evangeline in his life permanently.
Except she claimed she wanted him.
“Yes, one of my father’s stature,” she said with a disgusted expression. “A duke or marquess, even a higher-ranking earl. A man who would trip over himself for my inheritance and then expect me to dance to his tune. A man who would control my every move and expect me to smile while he did it.”
Betrothed by Christmas Page 8
