Lost in a Royal Kiss

by Vanessa Kelly

  She mentally winced. “Oh, of course not,” she said, feeling foolish and rather shy.

  He carried her to a divan piled high with cushions, in an intimate reading nook. Linnet curled her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his chest. She was trembling with nerves, her breath fracturing, but the scent of him—starched linen and warm male—was strangely comforting.

  When he leaned down to lay her onto the divan, she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

  “Darling, you’ll have to let me go, or we won’t get very far.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Either that or I’ll get a crick in my back from bending over. I won’t be much use to you if that happens.”

  She let out a nervous laugh and let him deposit her on the cushions, scooting over to make room for him.

  “Not yet,” he said, coming down onto his knees beside the divan.

  That brought them to eye level. He reached out to smooth back stray locks of hair from her forehead while he studied her. The smile still lingered in his eyes, but his expression was serious and intent, as it so often was.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He drew in a deep breath, expanding the impressive muscles of his chest. His shirt gaped at the neck, revealing tanned skin and dark, masculine hair.

  “I’m thinking how long I’ve waited for this. For you.”

  Linnet opened her eyes wide, genuinely stunned. “Truly?”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up into a wry smile. “You had no idea, did you?”

  She shook her head. “I always assumed you saw me as more of a nuisance, not worthy of your notice. After all, why would the great Sir Anthony wish to spend time with the dowerless daughter of an undistinguished family?”

  He looked startled, but then his eyes flared with irritation.

  She sighed. “You see? Even when you’re making love to me, I manage to annoy you.”

  He gripped her by the shoulders, practically lifting her off the divan. “If I’m annoyed, it’s at the absurd notion that you’re not good enough for me. And what you saw these last several months was not irritation, but frustration at your attempts to avoid me. Why the hell were you so intent on that?”

  She grimaced. “I suppose I was trying to protect myself. The last thing I wanted to do was act like a silly schoolgirl in front of a man who barely knew I existed.”

  His eyes softened. “Linnet, I always knew you existed, believe me. And you’re the farthest thing from a schoolgirl I can imagine.” His gaze swept hotly over her. “Thank God.”

  “If you say so, then it must be true. Sir Anthony would never lie about something like that,” she joked, even though she felt an overwhelming relief.

  He let out a mock growl. “I’ll teach you to Sir Anthony me.”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he gently tugged her head back. When his lips landed at the base of her throat, his tongue trailing liquid fire over fragile skin, Linnet let out a gasp and fell slowly back onto the divan.

  Anthony followed her down, his body crushing her against the cushions. He opened her wrapper and gently unlaced the top of her night rail, all the while trailing kisses over her throat, behind her ear, and along her jawline. Linnet spread her fingers across the back of his head, reveling in the feel of his thick, unbound hair. Never had she thought to have the luxury of touching him like this. Greed spiraled through her as she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and traced the flex of muscles in his back. Need pooled low in her belly, and the tender flesh between her thighs grew damp.

  When Anthony broke off she made an inarticulate sound of protest. He moved to her mouth, soothing her with a gentle kiss before drawing back.

  “We’re not going to rush this, Linnet, so you might as well stop trying to control things right now.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you,” she muttered.

  A wry grin was his only answer as he continued to undress her. True, she hadn’t many clothes on to begin with, but the speed at which he divested her of wrapper and night rail left her struggling for breath. The idea of being naked on a divan with Sir Anthony Tait—in Lady Farnsworth’s study, no less—was almost too stunning for her mind to fully grasp.

  “There, that’s better,” he murmured as he carelessly tossed her night rail on the floor.

  Linnet was sure she was blushing from head to toe. Instinctively, she tried to cover herself, but he caught both her wrists in one hand.

  “No, you don’t, my sweet,” he said. “You are not to cover one inch of that luscious body.”

  Before she could even think of a response to that, he bent over and fastened his mouth on her nipple. Sensation bolted through her body like a flash of lightning, and she had to bite off a strangled cry. Linnet froze, stunned by her lack of control and terrified that someone might have heard her.

  Not that Anthony seemed to be worried. In fact, he let out what sounded like a murmur of approval, gently pushing her back onto the cushions as he continued to kiss her breast.

  Although kiss hardly described what he was doing to her. Devour was a better word.

  He brought his tongue and lips to bear on shivering flesh, even using his teeth to gently tug on her nipple. Never had Linnet felt such a barrage of sensation as his hands roamed over her, one minute plumping up her breast so he could suck more of her into his mouth, the next trailing his big hands over her stomach, her hips, and down her legs. With each stroke, the tension in her body spiraled higher until she was squirming beneath him.

  When one of his hands drifted over the thatch of dark curls at the top of her thighs, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She simply had to touch him the way he was touching her.

  She planted her palms on his shoulders, pushing hard, forcing him to come off her body. Then she sat up and yanked the hem of his shirt from his breeches. “Take this off, Anthony. Now.”

  He let out a choked laugh but complied, tossing the shirt over his shoulder to land haphazardly on top of her nightclothes. Linnet blinked, her hand hovering in the air a mere inch from his chest, but still not touching him. She’d never seen a more impressive sight than his broad shoulders, densely muscled chest, and taut stomach. Dark hair swept in a narrowing line over his skin, disappearing into his breeches—breeches that strained over his generous proportions.

  If Linnet had always thought Anthony intimidating with his clothes on, it was nothing compared to him half naked.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered.

  Anthony let out a groan, resting his forehead against hers. His hands smoothed up and down her arms. She supposed he meant to soothe her, but the feel of his fingers over her hot skin had the opposite effect, making her tremble with excitement and need.

  “There’s no need to worry, love,” he said in a rough voice. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

  She placed her thumbs under his jaw and pushed up, forcing him to look at her. “I’m not worried, and I want this as much as you do.”

  Their gazes caught, his smoldering with an intensity that made every muscle in her body grow weak. As they stared at each other, his hands moved to the inside of her thighs and slowly pushed her legs farther apart. At her gasp, he looked down, growling deep in his throat as he took in the sight of her.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful, Linnet.”

  His fingers delved into her curls, carefully searching through the tender folds of flesh. Linnet grabbed his shoulders, and her nails dug into his skin as tiny contractions began to ripple through her. She widened for him, instinctively seeking more sensation, somehow knowing that her vulnerability, her openness, would increase her pleasure.

  His pleasure, too, from the look on his face. Anthony’s features had pulled tight, his lips curled back in a small but feral smile. Perspiration sheened his skin in the faint glow of the lamp as one hand clamped on her thigh, pushing her wider open as the other stroked through the soft, damp folds. Linnet knew she should be ashamed for surrendering so completely to him, but instead all she felt
was joy. Joy that she could not only share this hot fire of pleasure, but that she no longer had to hide herself from him, or he from her.

  But then all thought splintered as his mouth came down on hers, even as his hand stroked up between her thighs, rubbing on the little knot of sensitive, aching flesh. Linnet moaned, letting her head drop back. When his lips returned to her breast, sucking hard on one nipple as he carefully pushed two fingers deep inside of her, she cried out, almost overtaken by the contractions in her womb.

  She gripped, digging hard into his shoulders. “Anthony, do something.” Her voice was a thin quaver of need.

  His head came up and he planted a rough kiss on her mouth. “Yes, you’re ready for me,” he rasped. “Christ, Linnet. You’re so hot, so wet.”

  His words shocked her, but she found them unbearably stimulating at the same time. She stared up into his face, dazzled by his hard, handsome features, passion skimming a flush across his cheekbones, and emotion blazing in his eyes. He was as open to her as she was to him.

  She was suddenly overtaken by an overwhelming tenderness. She moved a hand to his cheek, cradling his face, keeping his eyes on her.

  “Now, Anthony,” she whispered. “I want everything.”

  Emerald light gleamed in the depth of his gaze. His hand withdrew from her, leaving her empty and throbbing with frustration.

  “You shall have it, love,” he said in a husky, unsteady voice as he fumbled with his breeches. “Everything I have.”

  He tugged and his staff thrust itself from the fall of his breeches.

  Good Lord.

  “Well, it would appear you have quite a lot,” she blurted out, unable to help herself.

  He gave his head a small shake and then slipped his hands under her bottom. She jumped a bit as he pulled her to the edge of the divan, carefully positioning her. Linnet passed her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, fighting a spike of anxiety.

  But then Anthony grasped himself and leaned into her, rubbing his shocking hardness against her. She moaned as tiny convulsions of pleasure rippled through her channel. She began to move against him, desperate to increase the delicious sense of pressure.

  He let her do that for a bit, then he wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs. While she rubbed against him, needy and hungry, his hands came up to her breasts, tugging and massaging with gentle friction. The storm built into a cresting wave. Linnet threw her head back and let out a strangled cry as shudders began to wrack her body.

  Anthony’s hands moved swiftly to her hips. He angled her body, then thrust into her with a slow but relentless drive. Her drenched flesh gripped then yielded to the thick staff as it breached her maidenhead. A stab of pain lanced through her, but the delicious shudders deep in her womb flowed through her, easing the shock.

  Linnet clutched at his back, resting her face against his shoulder. His thrusts grew long and powerful, his staff rubbing up against the knot above her cleft, wringing the last ounce of pleasure from her body. His muscles clenched tight under her hands and his back arched. A long, harsh moan broke from his mouth as he climaxed, shuddering against her.

  Then his arms cradled her with a tenderness that splintered Linnet’s control forever.

  Chapter 5

  Breathless, Linnet collapsed on Anthony’s heaving chest. They were plastered together, Anthony still buried inside her, their bodies slicked with perspiration. It was sticky, awkward, and glorious. She’d never thought relations between a man and a woman could be so all-consuming, but she shouldn’t have expected anything less. When Sir Anthony Tait set out to do something, he always performed to the highest standards.

  When he shifted, carefully pulling out of her, Linnet hissed. Anthony was a large man in every way. As much as she reveled in what had just happened, her untried body registered a protest.

  With an apologetic murmur, he steadied her with one hand while she regained her balance. With the other, he put himself to rights, and Linnet couldn’t help blushing when he rearranged himself and buttoned up the fall of his breeches.

  Then she registered her nakedness. Fortunately, the room was dim and Anthony was the consummate gentleman. He retrieved her night rail, then discreetly turned away to pull his shirt over his head while she wrestled the garment onto her damp body. Only when she had it back on did he come to her with the wrapper, tucking her into it then gently swinging her legs up on the divan. Once he had seen to her comfort, he lowered himself beside her, lifting her so that she lay sprawled on top of him.

  As Linnet snuggled close, she tried to sort through her emotions. She supposed she should say something, but it seemed so much easier to rest in Anthony’s arms, enjoying the soothing movement of his hand up and down her spine. The moment seemed too big for words. She’d imagined them together a thousand times, but she’d never thought her dreams would come to pass. Had never for a moment thought he felt the same way about her as she felt about him.

  She frowned, absently stroking the shape of his ribs through the fine linen of his shirt. At least she thought he felt the same way about her. In the heat of the moment, they’d certainly declared their desire for each other, but neither had truly professed any degree of emotion. But surely he knew she would never have given of herself if she didn’t love him. She had assumed the same about him. But as the moments ticked by, she began to wonder if she had assumed too much.

  Anthony stirred beneath her. “Are you all right, Linnet?”

  Afraid of what she might see on his face, she cautiously brought her head up. His eyes still smoldered with banked passion, but his features once more held the firm, almost stern expression they habitually carried. He certainly did not look like a man who’d been carried away on the wings of Eros, or on the wings of anything else.

  Beginning to feel awkward in her perch on his chest, she started to slide off. One big hand clamped firmly at the base of her spine, holding her still.

  “You don’t need to move yet,” he said. “The servants won’t be up for hours.”

  She dredged up a smile, hoping it didn’t look as stiff as it felt. Only a few minutes ago, her body had moved with grace and abandon. Now she felt clumsy and hesitant.

  “I must be crushing you,” she said. “Surely, this can’t be very comfortable.” She knew she was no lightweight, and that was as good an excuse as any if he wanted to put some distance between them.

  To her surprise, he let out a husky laugh, and the heat in his eyes sparked back to life. “Love, I’ve never felt more comfortable in my life. You are the sweetest blanket any man could want.”

  “Even in this dreadful heat?” she protested.

  By way of answer, his hands drifted down to smooth across her bottom, and his lips parted in a wicked grin. Her anxiety eased, and she couldn’t help smiling back at him.

  “In fact,” he murmured, cupping her, “if you stay in this position much longer, I think I’m going to have to do something about it.”

  Linnet choked out a shaky laugh, surprised at the coiling of arousal low in her belly. Anthony obviously possessed the ability to stoke her need with barely the touch of his hand. She didn’t know whether to be delighted or dismayed at the revelation.

  Instinctively, she wriggled against him, and felt the thrust of his growing erection. When she widened her eyes, he let out a laugh that sounded more like a groan.

  “However,” he said, “given that you are new to this, I think it best that we not repeat our performance. Not tonight.”

  She sighed and settled back onto his chest. “That might be wise. I expect I’ll have a little trouble walking tomorrow, as it is.”

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you, love. I should have waited until our wedding night before bedding you. A soft mattress would have been a great deal more comfortable than a divan in Lady Farnsworth’s study.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “But I could not wait to claim you as my own, even if it does only take three weeks to read the banns. Not when you looked so deliciously disheveled.”

&nb
sp; Linnet’s brain stuttered over his words. Obviously, she was relieved his intentions were honorable, and of course she should have expected nothing less from him. But she was still trying to comprehend the monumental change in her circumstances. She wanted marriage with Anthony—at some point in the future—but there was a great deal to be discussed first.

  Starting with how he truly felt about her.

  “I do realize that you would make certain assumptions based on what just happened between us,” she said cautiously. “But we should not get too far ahead of ourselves.”

  Even though he didn’t move, Anthony’s entire body went rigid. The air grew thick with a fraught silence, and Linnet didn’t need to look at him to know he was probably scowling.

  In one movement, he sat up, bringing her with him. She started a precipitous slide off the divan, but he quickly swung her legs up across his lap even as he planted his feet on the floorboards with a decided thump.

  Grabbing his shoulders, Linnet stared at him. Her heart sank. He was scowling, and rather fiercely, too. She tried to wriggle off his lap, but he captured her in his arms.

  “Certain assumptions?” The quiet, lethal tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine. “You’re damn right I made certain assumptions, Linnet. What kind of man do you take me for? Could you possibly think I would take your innocence and not marry you?”

  She repressed a sigh. Anthony was the most honorable man she knew. The last thing she’d wanted to do was offend him. “Of course not,” she said in a soothing voice as she patted his chest. “I would expect nothing less of you. It’s just that—”

  “Good,” he said, interrupting her. “I’ll leave for Kew first thing in the morning to present myself to your mother.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I don’t see the need to wait to announce our engagement, do you?”

  She gaped at him. “You haven’t even asked me to marry you yet!”

  His hands tightened briefly around her waist. “We just discussed this a moment ago, remember?”