Withered Rose (Desperate And Daring Book 7)

by Dayna Quince

  She looked up again, her eyes clouded and troubled. He instantly wanted to reach out to her.

  “Freeing myself from what, exactly?”

  “From the restraints of society.”

  She frowned at him.

  “Were you so foxed the night before you don’t remember talking about wanting me to show you how to let go?” He frowned back at her.

  “No, but it occurred to me this morning that you’re wanting to help me let go is a convenient ruse for seduction.”

  He scoffed, but internally, he had to validate his motives. Yes, he wanted her, desperately, but if he were such a cad, he wouldn’t be bothering to go slow with her. He could have had her last night when she’d been on the brink of release. He could have been inside her before she knew he’d moved. His motives were considerably more honorable than that. Odd, considering the honorable thing to do in light of their situation would be to marry her.

  But marriage wasn’t an answer for either of them, and that is what he needed to show her. She didn’t have to bow to societies dictates. She was a free person. She could do as she wished. Once she realized that, she wouldn’t be afraid to choose her own path. She wouldn’t see herself as ruined.

  He was beginning to hate that word.

  “You haven’t spent much time around rakes if you think I meant to seduce you last night.”

  “You did seduce me.” She returned vehemently.

  “No.” He kept his calm. “If I wanted to have you, I would have. Last night was about you. Last night was about awakening you to the truth of yourself.”

  “That sounds like rubbish.”

  “If I was only trying to get under your skirts, it would be, but there is more to it than that.” It was patently obvious she didn’t believe him. She enjoyed herself last night. He’d made sure of it. She’d agreed, no matter how much she regretted it this morning. He wasn’t going to let her take what they shared back.

  He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. He gave her a roguish smile. “Sweet, you want to regret what he shared last night because society has made you believe you should. That is precisely why you need to let those thoughts go.”

  She folded her arms. “The last thing I need in my life is… passion.”

  He cringed. “That is an awful thing to say. We all need passion. Passion for life, passion for knowledge. Passion is what keeps us going. You lack passion in your life, Rose. That is your problem.”

  She pushed away from the table and stood. “I don’t need to be told what my problems are.”

  He stood, too. “But are you prepared to face them and solve them, or are you going to wallow in them. Last night, you spoke from your heart, and you saw what you needed. Don’t be afraid to do the same today.”

  She tried to leave, so he stepped in her way. He folded his arms.

  “What are you doing?” She scowled. “Let me pass.”

  “Not until you agree you need to face your problems.”

  “This is quite a lot of effort you’re putting forth for—for a bit of muslin.”

  “You. Are. Not. Muslin.” He dropped his arms. He was truly angry now. “You want to hide behind your blacks and refuse to change? Well, I’m not going to let you. I’ve seen you stare down the wrath of a thunderstorm with a smile. I’ve felt you splinter with release in my arms. You can’t take those things back. Go forward. Claim more of those moments. Stop wasting time on regret, because that regret isn’t going to feed you or put a roof over your head.”

  “I have nothing left that will. Don’t you understand? Without my good name, which is lost now, I have nothing.”

  “You have me.” They both stilled. The words had burst forth unbidden.

  “Have you changed your mind? Are you going to insist we marry now?”

  He panicked. “No.”

  “Then I’m right where I was before.” She darted around him.

  He let her pass. He shook himself free of his shock and chased after her. He caught up to her on the stairs. “Don’t run away again.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I need to think about what I’m going to do once we leave here.”

  They reached the landing, and he took her hand. She tried to tug herself free. He yanked her to him and held her.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not until we talk about last night.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “You—you took advantage.”

  He let her go then. She stumbled back and stared at him in astonishment.

  “That isn’t fair. You were an equal participant. You cannot deny that. That was your hand over mine, using me to pleasure yourself.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. Color flagged her cheeks. He stepped forward. She looked vulnerable and alone, but she wasn’t—couldn’t she see that? Did she find him that unworthy? Was that the root of her regret? Him? Was she not attracted to him? He’d never been vain, but he’d never lacked in self-esteem. This would be a first for him. He had to know. If she didn’t want him, couldn’t bear to be touched by him, well… that changed everything.

  “Is it me?” he asked.

  “What?” she questioned weakly.

  “You don’t like me? You don’t find me physically appealing?” He watched her face.

  She blinked rapidly. “What?”

  “Do you want me, Rose? That is what I am asking. The whole of human existence is based on need and want. We need food, shelter… sex, but on the heels of those needs are wants. We choose what we want to eat, where we want to live, and who… who we want to…”

  “I—I understand.”

  “Then it’s me. You don’t want someone like me.” He stepped back. In all his life, he’d never been rejected by a woman. It was an odd sensation. He felt like he should have instinctively known this, sensed her lack of attraction. He was dumbfounded and… hurt. “I’m sorry,” he muttered and turned away.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped. Something surged inside him. It was bittersweet. He turned to face her. “Yes.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want you…” Her blush grew.

  He stepped closer again. “Yes.” He urged her for more.

  “I can’t.” Her shoulders slumped.

  “You won’t tell me?” he pressed.

  “I just… can’t. I don’t know the words to tell you what I’m feeling, but what I do know is that I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want you. I shouldn’t desire you.”

  He closed the distance between them. Of all the previous women in his life, her meek words did more to him than the most erotic whispered words. Hers were a deep confession of her heart, and he knew she did not give those easily. He cupped her face and tilted her head up until she met his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you?”

  “I know that was difficult for you to say.”

  “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “It does. When you own your desires as you just did, you are one step closer to owning your life.”

  “What’s the next step?”

  “To stop living in fear what people will think of you, and start doing what makes you happy. What will make you happy, right here, right now?”

  Chapter 13

  I want you to kiss me,” Rose said. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d said it aloud, but then his eyes lit with emerald fire, and his lips spread into a grin.

  “Nothing would make me happier.” He bent his head and kissed her.

  She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. All the lines she’d drawn for herself since the moment her eyes opened this morning evaporated. The stern lecture she’d recited while boiling eggs? Forgotten. All because he’d thought she didn’t like him, her heart strings had tugged painfully, and she couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him, not when it would have been a lie. She wanted him too much. She wanted to taste his kiss again and feel his strength surround her. So here she stood, her wits ravaged
by his nearness, his hungry kiss devouring the last of her will to be stronger than her desire. Resistance was futile.

  She wrapped her arms around his thick chest and sighed into the kiss. This was as close to happiness as she’d ever been. She felt sheltered and protected in his arms. She wished she could carry this feeling with her always. She was bone tired of worrying. Exhausted from the anxiety of her unknown fate. She wanted to be like him. She wanted to live in the moment and not think, better yet, not care about tomorrow. But how?

  She didn’t know how, so she let the thought go. At this moment, she didn’t need thoughts. She only wanted to feel and absorb his strength. She gave herself up to him, molding her body to him, letting his kiss claim all her senses, and drown out the fear. His arms came around her, and he picked her up, lifting her clear off her feet as he walked them into her room. He didn’t stop until he reached the bed. He laid her down gently. Rose instantly missed the contact of his hard body pressed against hers.

  “Gabriel…” She reached for him.

  “Shhh… I need to taste you, and you need to let yourself be consumed.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted. A slight shiver shimmered through her body as she watched him remove his coat. He tossed it aside carelessly.

  “Of me?”

  “Of myself.”

  He crawled onto the bed slowly. She slid back against the pillows.

  “You have all the control, Rose. I am at your command. You can say no, but we both know you don’t want to.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She could feel the words spilling forth now. It was terrifying, but also a relief. “I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t be allowing it to happen.”

  He took hold of her ankle, and his hand slid up to her knee. He was on all fours as he caged her legs. “Who says you shouldn’t want to be worshiped with my tongue?”

  Rose swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “This unknown entity is rather ambiguous, don’t you think? More importantly, they are not here. You and I are the only ones here, and I want to taste you. Do you want me to taste you?”

  Rose nodded. Words ceased to exist anymore. She wanted to be tasted, and she didn’t even know what that meant, but she wanted it, and only from him.

  He parted her legs and leaned down. He lifted her skirts to his hips and settled her knees on his shoulders. Rose was frozen in shock. His hot breath was on her inner thighs, and he could see all of her. He nuzzled her, the scrape of his whiskers exquisitely abrasive on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She tried to find the will to stop him, the words, the actions to make her move, but she couldn’t.

  She wanted this. She wanted all of it. She couldn’t deny herself anymore. She was a wanton, wicked woman, a light-skirt, a ladybird—whatever name could be applied—she was it. She had loose morals. It was time to accept that fact. She waited to feel remorse, but at that moment, he nuzzled her delicate curls, and his tongue, hot and wet, prodded her core.

  All she felt was heat, melting honey heat pooling between her thighs, her pulse racing with ecstasy, and her mind, blissfully blank. If this was sin, it was astonishingly wonderful. He ran his tongue up the seam of her core and teased the sensitive hood of her sex. Pleasure poured through her veins, molten and intoxicating. She moaned, her hands bunching in the coverlet, then boldly moving to his hair to hold him to her.

  He groaned in answer, his lips moving against her flesh, but she couldn’t hear him. His hands scooped under her hips, and he kissed her harder, his lips, tongue, even teeth, pushing her toward sweet oblivion.

  She cried out, the pressure building, her eyes pinching tightly as he ravaged her with his mouth. He was consuming her, body and soul, the pleasure so rapturous she knew she’d forever be addicted. Her body tense, her legs shaking as everything coiled tightly inside her, only to explode a moment later.

  She screamed, deep from within her throat, as her body convulsed in release. She panted as she collapsed back on the bed, not even realizing how her own body had arched and bowed on its own. Her eyes opened as he sat back on his knees, his arousal evident by the bold protrusion in his breeches. He leaned back, his eyes closed as he wrapped his hand around himself and cursed.

  “You’ll be the death of me, Rose.” His face looked pained.

  “You’re hurting?”

  “Your pleasure is my pleasure, but… my body doesn’t feel the same.

  She sat up, immensely curious about what lay under those breeches, so rigid and demanding. She hadn’t seen much of Peter, a flash of pale skin at most, but she desperately wanted to see Connor. He looked large and powerful now. What would he be like naked? She eased onto her haunches and put her hand over his. “Show me how to please you.” The words were breathless. Whatever he did to her, she was ready and willing to do in return.

  “I appreciate the consideration—”

  “I want to. Don’t be a martyr.” She raised a brow. “If my pleasure is your pleasure, then surely it’s the same in reverse. You said I need to own what I want. I want to see you.”

  He stared down at her. His jaw tensed, but he took her hand and pressed it over his hard length. A small groan escaped him, and to Rose, it was like powerful music. She wanted to make him do it some more, to succumb to her the way she so easily succumbed to him. She reached for the buttons of his fall. He didn’t stop her as she undid them one by one. They both looked down in unison as his erection sprang free.

  Rose looked her fill and then took hold of him. She recalled images of the way he’d touched himself the other night and mimicked it, sliding her fist up and down over his length. That resulted in another groan, and his eyes closed and his head fell back. Something akin to confidence filled her, a strange womanly power that grew the more he seemed to lose his composure the longer she touched him. She tightened her hold on him, and his breathing fractured.

  He reached up and cupped her breasts, and then he straightened and stole her mouth. She gasped, tasting herself on his lips, tangy and earthy. She’d never tasted anything like it. Heat pooled low in her belly as she continued her strokes. He broke the kiss and yanked down her bodice, his thumb grazing her bare nipples as his breath sawed in his chest. She looked down at her prize. It looked larger and hotter, a bead of fluid emerging every time she stroked up. She was mesmerized and aroused by the sight of him. His harsh breathing, his grunting approval, and the way he roughly massaged her breast, hunching to take her nipple into his mouth all aroused her beyond reason.

  “Oh, God, Rose.” He moaned into her neck. “I want you madly. I want to bury myself inside you.”

  Her body throbbed at his words. She wanted that, too.

  “I’m going to ask you this once, and you have every right to say no,” he said gravely.

  If he was asking what she thought he was asking, a hearty yes was on the tip of her tongue. He said he didn’t want to take her virtue, but Rose wasn’t afraid to give what had already been taken. She felt achingly empty, and the hard member throbbing in her hands was the perfect remedy for that.

  “Yes…” she said breathlessly.

  “You don’t know what I’m going to say. It may appall you.” He chuckled.

  “Whatever it is, yes.” She rushed to say as she stroked him and nuzzled his neck. He smelled of soap and man, and it turned her blood to fire. She was burning up. She needed his hands on her. She needed to be closer to him.

  “Your mouth, Rose.” He breathed. “I’d die a thousand deaths to feel your mouth on me. Sucking, licking…”

  She pulled back. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say at all. She looked down at his manhood. It was silky soft and hard. She tried to imagine putting her mouth to it and, strangely, it didn’t revolt her. A spiral of erotic desire curled through her abdomen. She squeezed him tighter. He moaned, his hands cupping her shoulders, his head thrown back.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  She nodded. “Lie back and tell me what to do.”
/>   “You can do anything you want to do.” He lay back on the bed, perpendicular to the headboard.

  Rose bent over him and took him in hand again. “What do I do?”

  “Continue as you’ve been doing, but kiss and lick me as you see fit. If you take me in your mouth, I will probably die and rise to heaven.”

  She giggled. She couldn’t imagine why but she did. She bent closer, moving her hand slowly up and down and lightly kissing the tip.

  “Oh, God. Rose.” He gasped.

  She smiled, and then she littered the soft head with kisses. His hips arched off the bed.

  “Your mouth, take me into your mouth,” he said desperately.

  She bit her lip, not sure how to go about it. She started with a lick, finding the taste of him pleasant, the manly smell of him stronger and intoxicating. Her courage swelled, so she took him into her mouth, carefully, playing with the depth she could take. She began to move her mouth over his tip as she pumped her fist up and down, and she was rewarded with a cascade of moans and his fists curling into the coverlet.

  She liked what she was doing to him. It made her feel powerful.

  He grunted. “I can’t take much more. I’m going to come, and when I do, my seed with spurt into your mouth or you can pull away and finish me with your hand.” He finished with a pained grimace.

  His seed? Rose was curious now. She went back to her steady pace of stroking and sucking him, noticing how his body grew harder with strain. His thighs were rigid, and his breath came out in thick gusts. He dug his fingers into her hair, urging to take him deeper into her mouth. She went as far as she could until he let out a prolonged groan, and she felt a rush of warm fluid in her mouth. She pulled away abruptly. She wiped at her mouth as he went limp before her, his breathing ragged, his eyes closed. He looked completely depleted of strength.

  Rose found it amusing, but her body was also thrumming with unspent need. She wanted to do more. She wanted him to make love to her as he had said he wanted to. She lay on her side beside him and propped her head on her hand. She waited for him to look at her, but after a moment, he still hadn’t moved. His breathing had slowed, his chest rising and falling in deep, even movements.