by Monica Burns
“Until tonight, yâ sabāha.”
Releasing her, Lucien walked quickly from the room, almost as if he thought she might have a change of heart. A change of heart? What she needed was to have her head examined. It had been madness to agree to visit his room tonight. She’d been behaving licentiously with the man since their first meeting. Although her behavior shocked her, affairs among the Marlborough Set were daily occurrences. Her actions would not be viewed as shocking unless she was indiscreet.
A widow could have a dalliance as long as she didn’t become pregnant and didn’t make a spectacle of herself. Her inability to conceive had been proven in the weeks after her first tryst with Lucien. As for making a spectacle—her special gift had taught her the value of discretion. But neither of those things worried her half as much as the way she craved Lucien’s touch. One thing was certain: she was proving just how rash and impulsive a Rockwood could be.
Chapter Nine
Hands braced against the fireplace mantle, Lucien stared down into the flames of the small fire. Above his bent head, the clock chimed the quarter hour before eleven. He’d sent her a note before dinner, instructing her to join him at half past ten. Where the devil was she? Had she changed her mind? No, only fear would make her change her mind, and she was too stubborn to admit she might be afraid of him.
Roughly pushing himself away from the mantle, he growled his displeasure as he turned around and studied the room. The only thing missing was Constance, his bewitching Isis. One hand rubbing the back of his neck, he paced the floor.
Why did he even care she was late? More than fifteen minutes late, a small voice reminded him. He flexed his jaw in self-disgust. He’d bedded women before, why should Constance be any different? Tonight he’d prove his fascination with her was little more than his cock craving the heat of her cunny. He grimaced.
Crudity where Constance was concerned seemed like an insult. She wasn’t deserving of it, and yet he knew it was just one more way of keeping distance between them. The realization irritated him. He wasn’t in danger of losing his head over the woman. He simply wanted her body. Emotion didn’t even enter into the equation. All he wanted was to fuck her and get her out of his system. When he’d done that, his body would stop hounding him for one more taste of her.
Blast it to hell. What was keeping her? He’d waited long enough for her as it was. The woman simply enjoyed keeping him on tenterhooks. He was certain of it. But not tonight. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. Tonight he was going to seduce Constance and purge her from his system. He’d promised to worship her body, and he intended to do just that. The woman was going to find herself seduced unlike anything she’d ever experienced or imagined. Wheeling toward the door, he started across the room.
It was time to fetch his elusive Isis. If she wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. To hell with the preparations he’d made.
He was only a foot away from the threshold when a quiet knock echoed in the room. With a sharp jerk, he pulled the door open.
Framed by the doorway, she was a vision in ivory lace and silk. Two gaslights some distance down the corridor threw her profile into relief. He couldn’t remember any woman who’d ever tempted him the way this one did. The warning shot in the back of his head went ignored. All he wanted was one more night with her. That should be more than enough time to cleanse himself of this intense craving she stirred in him.
Her lovely mouth was tilted in a small pout of uncertainty, and she looked skittish enough to flee back to her room. But he wasn’t going to let her run. He stretched out his hand to her. Hesitation flitted across her features as she darted an anxious look down the dimly lit hallway. “No one will see you come or go, yâ sabāha. I instructed Jacobs to keep the staff confined to other parts of the keep until midday.”
Relief crossed her features for a brief instant before her eyes widened in horror. “Dear Lord, do you mean the servants will know that…”
“No,” he said as he gently pulled her into the room. “Jacobs knows I often have trouble sleeping, and I occasionally request to be left undisturbed until I ring.”
“Oh.”
The concern on her face disappeared completely, leaving a soft glow of what he could only define as anticipation. He swallowed hard as her expression taunted him with temptation. Hell, he was ready to bed her now and to hell with the special arrangements he’d made for her seduction. She shouldn’t pay the price of a casual fuck just because he wanted her out of his system.
His fingers bit into the wooden doorframe at the thought. Christ Jesus, what was wrong with him? Tonight meant nothing. The door closed with a quiet snap of the latch. Why the soft sound sent tension rolling through him, he wasn’t sure. No, he knew why. He just didn’t want to admit it. For several long seconds, he debated sending her back to her room.
“Lucien?”
The question in her voice twisted his gut. Sending her away accomplished nothing. No, he would stay the course and seduce her in the manner he’d intended. Giving in to the temptation of bedding her immediately said he had no control of his emotions where she was concerned. He refused to admit such a possibility. Tonight was about pleasure and nothing more. Deep inside he thought he heard the sound of maniacal laughter. Dismissing the notion, he turned around and met her luminous gaze.
“Do you trust me, yâ sabāha?”
She arched her eyebrows as she considered the question for a moment. Then with a nod, a smile curved her lips. “I’m not really sure why, but yes. I know you would never hurt me.”
The irony of her words was not lost on him, and he flexed his jaw as a dark tension assaulted his body. Exerting the control he’d learned over the years, he buried his turbulent emotions deep.
“Then turn around.”
She frowned in puzzlement for a moment before she did as he ordered. With her back to him, it was impossible to keep from leaning forward to kiss the nape of her exposed neck. She shuddered at the touch, and he reveled in the knowledge his caress could elicit such a strong, physical response from her.
Quickly removing the hairpins from her hair, he watched in fascination as the silky chestnut tresses fell down over her shoulders and back. He’d never known a woman’s hair to smell so wonderfully exotic—so tempting. A lock of hair curled round his finger. Would she be willing to go along with what he had planned? Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out a black silk scarf. With a quick movement, he whipped the dark cloth over her eyes, blindfolding her. Startled, her hands flew up to the silk material in silent protest, but he stayed her with his hand.
“Trust me,” he whispered firmly.
“I trust you, Lucien.” The acceptance and faith in her voice threatened to unleash the darkness still lurking beneath the surface. He swallowed hard and forced himself to focus on pleasing her. Purging his soul would happen soon enough.
“Tonight, Isis, I’m going to show you pleasures unlike any you’ve experienced before. I’m going to caress you, drink from you and make you cry out for my touch.”
She quivered beneath his hands as he circled her then caught her hands in his and pulled her toward the center of the room. Unable to resist, he allowed himself the quick pleasure of leaning forward to nibble at a delicate earlobe before moving to the silky skin of her throat.
“Tonight isn’t just about pleasure, yâ sabāha, it’s also about the senses. Tell me what you hear,” he murmured. Beneath his lips, he could feel her pulse jump with excitement as she tipped her head to one side and strained to listen. He waited as she listened to the soft sound of their breathing and the fire crackling in the hearth.
“The fire?”
“Excellent, yâ sabāha,” he whispered. “That sound represents the fire we’re going to experience tonight. I intend to brand you as mine. Mine alone.”
He smiled with satisfaction when his words made her breath hitch and her mouth parted
in a soft moue. The keen expectation in her expression below the strip of black silk pleased him more than he cared to admit. He frowned slightly before discarding the niggling concern darting through his head. It was natural to enjoy her eagerness as it would be with any other woman. And he intended to satisfy her anticipation in ways she would never forget. He would give her a night to remember unlike any other. He’d mark her in such a way that it was his touch she longed for—his and no other man.
“And what do you smell, my tempting Egyptian goddess?”
“Strawberries,” she said with a soft laugh. “I smelled them the moment I entered the room.”
“Correct.”
Her laughter was a gratifying sound, and he smiled. For once, he was the one who’d made her laugh, not Duncan. A twinge of disquiet tugged at him as he acknowledged how much he enjoyed pleasing her. Pushing the thought aside, he untied the blue-corded ribbon holding her robe closed at the neck. The moment he slid the lightweight garment off her shoulders his chest tightened as air fled his lungs.
The robe had been a willing accomplice in hiding the sheer nightgown that clung to her full figure like a second skin. The sight had him hard in mere seconds. Iron hard. Damn. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more exquisite sight than the soft roundness of her breasts.
His mouth watered at the thought of licking and sucking her nipples, which he could see were stiff peaks jutting out through the transparent cream fabric of her gown. No, not yet, he needed to maintain control. The slower he proceeded, the more certain he could be that tonight was about lust and nothing more. Maintaining control meant his emotions weren’t involved. Unable to help himself, he trailed his fingers along the line of her breastbone down between her breasts then under the lush beauty of one firm globe. Christ Jesus, she was lovelier than he remembered.
Quickly taking a step back, he tried to control the desire beginning to rage inside him. Moving toward a nearby table, he retrieved a strawberry from a bowl. When he turned around to face her, the full force of her exotic beauty barreled through him. Her gown hugged her voluptuous breasts before edging down to caress her softly rounded belly as the fabric draped its length over a full, sensuous thigh. The dark mauve of her areoles sent his pulse racing, and the small triangle of curls between her legs made him swallow hard.
God help him, but the woman was a siren. And all the more powerful because she had no idea how erotically sensual her body was. Returning to her side, he slowly wet her lips with the taste of the berry he held in his fingers.
“Open your mouth, yâ sabāha,” he said as he slid the red fruit across her bottom lip.
Half of the berry entered her mouth and she bit into the dimpled temptation when he told her to. Even beneath the blindfold, he could see the look of pleasure the fruit gave her as she slowly relished its taste. Leaning into her, he breathed in the scent of strawberry as he popped the remainder of the berry past her lips.
“You have a touch of juice at the corner of your mouth,” he murmured before his tongue licked the droplet off her skin.
The touch made her entire body tremble, and he didn’t stop her as she reached up to explore his face with her fingers. He grew still at her caress. The tenderness in her soft touch tightened his throat, and he swallowed hard. A sudden longing for something he knew better than to even dream about rose up inside him. With a violent mental blow, he crushed the thought. Instead he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a teasing caress.
“You’re ripe and succulent, just like that strawberry,” he murmured as he enjoyed the sweetness of her lips.
The pulse at the side of her neck pounded a frantic beat beneath his fingers. Eager to taste the warmth of her skin, he pressed his mouth against the fluttering beat. A soft moan whispered out of her, and the sound sent elation shooting through him. Before the night was through he’d have her doing more than simply moaning. He wanted to hear the aching need in her voice when she pleaded with him for release.
Impatient for the sound of that husky plea, he trailed his mouth across her shoulder and down her arm. For a fraction of a second he paused at the stiff peak of her breast. The silk of her nightgown was stretched taut over the tight tip of her. It betrayed her heightened awareness, and instead of suckling her, he continued to blaze a fiery path down her arm. Her whimper of protest filled him with satisfaction.
“Sweet heaven, Lucien, surely you’re not going to tease me like this all night.” She blindly stretched out her hands to him.
“This is far less of a torment than what I’ve suffered these past several months, my sweet.” He fought to keep his tone light. Admitting the depth of his torment would only give her power over him. “Months of aching for you. Nights needing you, but the only release my cock had was my hand and images of you.”
She gasped at his words as a pink blush filled her cheeks. Coming upright, he rubbed his thumb across the plump fullness of her lower lip. “My words shock you.”
“A little,” she said. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed hard.
“Shall I describe the fantasies I had about you every time I grasped my hard rod?” Slowly, he traced his finger along the edge of her bodice where the lace met her jasmine-scented skin. “Fantasies of me licking the insides of your thighs then sucking on that tender little nub of yours. Sucking on you until you drench my tongue with your hot cream.”
The pink color in her cheeks darkened to a rosy hue as her mouth formed a wordless cry of shock. He watched her carefully as his finger slid down toward the shadowy valley between her breasts. She might have found his comments shocking, but they excited her as well. The slight flare of her nostrils and her shallow breathing were enough to tell him that. He reached for the ribbons of her nightgown, then used the tips of the silk fasteners to tease her skin as he unlaced her bodice.
The almost-transparent garment slid off her shoulders and floated downward to pool at her feet. The dark mauve hue of her rigid nipples made his mouth go dry as he lightly rubbed his thumb over one stiff peak. She jerked at the touch.
“Lucien—”
“Hush, sweetheart. Just let me look at you,” he rasped.
She was beautiful, and his groin tightened with an urgency that troubled him. Christ Almighty, was he going to be able to finish this seduction? His body grew taut with tension as he fought the need to take her without another word. No. He needed to resist the temptation—remain in control. It was the only way to manage this insatiable need she created in him.
With a feather-light touch, he slid his fingers down over the tips of her breasts to her waist. His mouth longed to suckle her, but he resisted the impulse. Instead, he blew gently across each nipple until she reached out for him. Capturing her hands in his, he forced her to cup her breasts.
“I want you to touch yourself, yâ sabāha. The whimper parting her lips made his cock jump. “Stroke those lovely nipples of yours.”
A violent shudder ripped through her, and he gripped her waist to hold her steady. She slowly obeyed his command, and he watched in fascination as her fingers tentatively circled the stiff peaks of her breasts.
“Tell me how it makes you feel, my sweet.”
“I…wicked. I feel wicked.” Desire made her voice husky.
“I like watching you being wicked.” He knelt in front of her and pressed his lips to the silky smoothness of her rounded belly. “But I want more.”
“More?”
“I want to taste your cream, yâ sabāha.”
She moaned at his statement and swayed toward him. The soft musky scent of her desire tantalized him as he cupped the round swells of her bottom and tilted her hips toward him. Leaning into her, he slipped his tongue through her damp curls and circled her sex.
“Oh dear God.”
An instant later, a small gush of cream slid across his tongue. Eagerly he welcomed the hot essence of her into his mouth. She was sharp and t
angy. He wanted more. With a gentle stroke of his fingers, he parted her slick folds then swirled his tongue around the tender bud of her sex. She called out his name in a quiet plea, and pleasure lashed through him. He intended to make her cry out like that over and over again tonight.
Her hips shifted slightly as she whimpered with need. Encouraged by her response, his teeth gently clamped down on the tender bud of her sex as he slowly slid one finger into her tight core. Almost immediately, her body clenched around him in a tiny spasm, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted her to shatter completely over his tongue. Slowly, he pressed another finger up inside her, caressing her insides with delicate strokes. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, and he pulled back from her slightly. Looking up, he saw her mouth working as if to speak, but she didn’t make a sound.
“You like that, yâ sabāha, don’t you? You like my fingers dipping into that hot cream of yours.”
“Ye…yes,” she gasped with a nod.
“Tell me what else you like.”
“I… I don’t…”
“You do know. Tell me.”
“I like…the way you were sucking on me.”
A deep red color crested in her cheeks as her hoarse whisper filled the air above his head. He smiled with satisfaction.
“And I like sucking on you.”
Leaning forward again, he resumed massaging her sex with his tongue while continuing the rhythmic stroke of his fingers inside her. The deep moan pouring out of her throat excited him as her fingertips bit into his shoulders. Seconds later, a tremor shook through her until her insides tightened like a silk vise around his fingers.
God Almighty, he wanted her wrapped around his cock now. He wanted to feel her cunny flexing tight around his hard erection, clenching him until he exploded inside her. The sultry bite of her flooded his mouth, and he took pleasure in knowing it was his touch that had made her explode across his tongue.