“Now you are avoiding my questions,” he said evenly, as though the kiss had little effect on him, but she knew it had, for he was caressing his fingers up and down her side, over her ribs, where one seam of the corset pressed against the dress.
“It would be a shame for our night to end. It has been . . . magical. And I’m afraid that magic will be nothing but a figment of my imagination, come morning.”
“This isn’t something I’ll let you forget,” he said with so much promise that she believed him.
But they would resume their normal roles when morning broke. She would play the part of his secretary; he, the powerful industrialist.
She slid her arms away from his shoulders, feeling quite silly sitting in his lap. She was unsure how exactly to extricate herself, but it didn’t seem to matter, because Mr. Riley’s hand grasped her side to hold her right where she was.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“That you even have to ask tells me you kissed me on a whim, to try to distract me. You will not be able to keep secrets from me forever, Amelia.”
Gazing into his eyes, she knew he was giving her a reprieve this once. Her heart skipped in worry at the thought of his knowing what her brother had done to make her leave her old life. What the man who thought to marry her had promised.
Surely the absinthe was playing tricks on her mind right now. It was impossible for her brother to find her. How would he know she’d come to London instead of somewhere more familiar, like Edinburgh?
When the carriage stopped, Mr. Riley reached around her to open the door and assisted her to her feet before they exited the carriage. After handing her the cane, he placed his hand on her lower back as he had at the restaurant. That show of possessiveness thrilled her so deeply that she mentally chastised herself for her reaction.
When they were inside, Mr. Riley backed her up against the door and placed his arms on either side of her shoulders. He leaned in close to her face, close enough that she could smell the coffee on his breath. It was much more pleasant a scent on him. She wanted to taste his lips to see if he tasted as good as he smelled, now that she wasn’t focused on distracting him.
“What do we do now, Mr. Riley?”
He set her cane in the umbrella stand next to the door. She swallowed the nervousness that suddenly choked her.
“Our night is far from finished,” he said. Then he swept her up into his arms and headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hitching Amelia higher in his arms, Nick turned his back to her door and reached behind him to find the doorknob. Twisting it, they rushed backward into her room. Her grip had tightened around his shoulders, and she felt a giddiness wash through her at the sudden thrill and excitement of their stolen moment.
This is wrong, her mind screamed. She needed to stop this. She needed to think about her choices. But the words asking him to set her down and leave simply wouldn’t form on her tongue. What she wanted was to forget about everything else, including the pesky voice of reason trying to ruin her perfect night. And while she might still feel slightly lightheaded from the absinthe, it was not ruling her actions.
Mr. Riley set her down on her feet. Her body slid along his on its descent.
Holding on to his jacket, she tipped her head up and stared into his eyes. “Why do I feel this way around you?”
He rubbed his hands over hers, holding her close. “And how is that?”
“Confused. In need of something I do not understand and for which I cannot find words.” She closed her eyes, not believing she was admitting this much to him. “Desperate for your touch, for your lips pressed against mine . . . for your hands around me as they were in the carriage.”
Perhaps that was the absinthe talking. She doubted she’d have said any of that, had she refrained from indulging in the green liquid.
When she cracked her eyes open, it was hard to miss the hunger that dilated his pupils. Releasing her hands, he caressed her jaw and chin. She backed away from him, not sure if she’d made the right decision in inviting him into her bedroom, not sure about confessing her feelings at all.
She stumbled on her bad foot and reached out to catch herself on the cushioned bench at the end of her bed. Mr. Riley was there in an instant, lifting and carrying her over to the side of the bed. He set her down with a gentleness she couldn’t have guessed he harbored when he looked positively ravenous and ready to devour her.
She closed her eyes again, took in a steady breath, and released it. She repeated this process as Mr. Riley kneeled in front of her and pushed her skirts up so that they were gathered above her knees. Any proper young lady would have asked him to stop, but she didn’t have it in her to do so. She didn’t want to be proper when she was with Mr. Riley.
Instead, she stared at his bowed head and considered leaning close enough to run her fingers through the thick waves of black that fell forward around his collar. His focus was on untying her boot. He removed the boot on her good foot first and then carefully worked on the second, loosening all the laces so it fell off her foot and into his hand without having to be tugged free.
She jumped when his fingers caressed the side of her ankle. He looked up, alarmed. “Does this hurt?”
She shook her head, at a loss for words. Nibbling her lower lip, she hesitated before saying, “I know I should ask you to leave, but I do not want you to go.”
He stood, suddenly looming over her, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him. With his fingers under her chin, he looked at her with a longing she imagined was mirrored in her own eyes. A longing that a man of his bearing and standing should never have for someone like her, she reminded herself.
She was his secretary; he was her employer—two very important facts that she could never forget. Yet that was precisely what she had done to let this man undress her.
“What am I meant to do?” she asked.
“That is up to you. But no more than you are willing.”
She shook her head. Confused by what she should do, what she wanted to do, and what she guessed they were about to do.
Accepting him was never a question. She wanted this just as much as she wanted a decent life and a job to support herself and to be a self-sufficient woman, which seemed contradictory. But she could acknowledge that Mr. Riley would be a vital part of her immediate future.
With his hand gently cupping the back of her head, his lips drew nearer. His breath was a warm whisper over her lips. He stopped a scant inch away from her parted mouth. She craved his kiss.
“Tell me when it’s too much,” he said.
She searched his eyes and nodded once, as he seemed to be waiting for her response. Before she could inhale her next breath, Mr. Riley’s tongue was sliding into her mouth and curling around her tongue. Her actions at first were tentative, never having kissed anyone before Mr. Riley. Her tongue followed his, never exploring on its own.
With his hand tangled in her hair, he guided her back against the bed, bringing his much larger frame over her slight one, though he didn’t press his weight upon her. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she fisted them in the material of his waistcoat on either side of his wide chest.
She grew bolder with their kiss, touching parts of his mouth with her tongue, loving the smooth slide against his teeth. Soon, their kiss left her panting, not for breath but for a deeper sweep of his tongue, for want of her breasts smashed against his chest as when they had danced, for his full weight covering and crushing her into the bed. She arched up against him, needing all that and so much more.
Their lips parted only to join and taste and feel again and again.
Wanting more but not sure how to put words to those desires, she unclasped her hands and tentatively spread one of her palms over his shoulder, sliding it higher until it rested on his upper back. She could feel his strength in the coiling of his muscles as he braced himself above her. His body was all tension and vibrated so hard that she wanted the last tether of hi
s control to snap.
It was that moment she realized he was being careful—holding himself back. She wanted all of him.
Feeling braver by the moment, she snaked her other hand around his neck, her fingers tickling the line between the edge of his shirt collar and the soft strands of his hair. Like a wolf in wait, he stilled.
She opened her eyes so she could read the expression in his eyes. He was staring right back at her. She knew precisely what the gleam in his eyes meant, and she wasn’t afraid of the desire radiating off him, like coals burning out of control.
“Have I done something wrong?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“There is no going back from this.”
She understood that perfectly well. She wanted whatever this was.
He continued to stare at her, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders. Did he want her assurance that she wanted this?
“Amelia.” Her name on his tongue was a seductive growl in her ears, and the sound had her mouth parting on a small sigh. “You’re mine and no one else’s.”
“I only want you.”
He kissed her hard, his mouth rougher, needier this time. The feel of his teeth grazing her lips and her tongue tore a moan from deep in her throat. This time, when he pulled away, she almost followed his mouth with hers, not willing to relinquish the kiss she’d been craving since they arrived home. This was precisely what she wanted.
“I will never let you leave,” he said with a finality that might have frightened most women, but he didn’t scare her.
“Why do I feel this way about you?” she asked. “I don’t plan to leave when I have only just found my place here.”
Her answer seemed to satisfy him, and his body came down on top of hers, though he kept most of his weight off her. The hard press of his manhood was a very clear indication of what he wanted, and had she not been trapped by her dress, she would have rubbed against it, wanting to feel his virility over every inch of her burning flesh.
Feeling bolder by the minute and desperate to shut off any warring thoughts about her actions, she lightly scratched her nails across the back of his head and scalp. If she was going to be reckless, she might as well embrace this new side of herself to the fullest.
“I do not know how to ask for what I want. I want you to show me.”
Her words drew another groan of appreciation from deep in his chest, and that sound vibrated from her breasts all the way to her mouth, where his tongue did a wicked dance around her tongue, eliciting sounds from her she couldn’t hold back. Didn’t want to hold back.
Finally, he pressed his full weight onto her, his hands caressing her upper arms, working their way higher until she was forced to loosen her hold in his hair. With her arms stretched above her head, he clasped her wrists together with one of his hands, leaving her helpless and unable to move. She liked being trapped by him. Liked that he had all the control.
She tugged at her hands, testing his hold. In response, he tightened his grip, giving her a clear indication that he was in charge right now.
“Do not move,” he said with a light bite to her lip that he soothed immediately with the caress of his lips.
Amelia found herself obeying because she wanted nothing more than to please him. Her mouth meshed tightly against Mr. Riley’s as they lost themselves in another kiss.
The seductive abrasion of his short clipped beard against her face made her want to feel that delicious friction the rest of the way down her body. Her rigidness dissolved as his free hand explored a path over the side of her breast, until it finally stopped around her ribcage.
Body arching off the bed, she wanted to be closer to him. His hand tightened around her side, holding her so they were crushed, breast to chest, pelvis to groin.
She let out a surprised yelp when her body jerked forward as he worked the buttons free at the back of her bodice, tearing a few in the process. He found the ties on her overskirt and the buckles that held the bustle with an ease that told of his experience in removing women’s clothing. When he was finished, he pulled her skirts down and over her hips and released her wrists so he could shed the outer layers of the dress he’d given her.
Sitting her up, he pulled the bodice off next. He stared down at her for a moment, his hand tracing over the bones in the corset as he spanned the width of her waist. It was a simple corset, nothing grand enough for the dress she wore, but it was all she had. Little green sparrows were embroidered around the edges, top and bottom; she hadn’t thought much about it until now.
She swallowed, not sure if she could touch him while he explored every part of her. There was just enough give in the corset that he yanked the front of it lower and tore the chemise away to expose her breasts to that penetrating gaze of his. It didn’t occur to her that she should protest. Though his motions were rough, his hands were tender where they cupped her breast above the bindings.
He released her breast and crushed his mouth against hers. His tongue stole past her lips with an authority she would never question. The kiss robbed her of breath and squashed any objecting thoughts. There was nothing except the feel of their bodies crushed together, his tongue dancing and sliding wickedly over and around hers, tasting so deeply that he stole her breath away.
Her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she thought Mr. Riley might feel it. His mouth moved lower, tasting and nibbling a path over her chin, the slender column of her neck, and her collarbone. He shoved the chemise off her shoulders and then lay kisses there too.
“Mr. Riley.”
He was suddenly kneeling above her like a predator in wait, wearing an expression that was half ravenous, half something she couldn’t define, for she’d never seen that particular look in a man’s eyes.
“Nick,” he corrected her as he lowered his mouth to the top swell of her breasts. The hard edge of his teeth scraped lightly over her skin, causing her nipples to peak impossibly hard. She wanted him to suck those berry-colored tips into his mouth.
This time when her hands threaded through his hair, he didn’t stop her; he let her explore the thick strands before she lowered her hands to his strong shoulders. The sinew flexed fluidly beneath her hold, mesmerizing her, encouraging and daring her to explore more.
A small part of her knew she needed to ask him to stop. But she’d come this far, hadn’t she? She didn’t want to turn back when it felt so right. She didn’t want to stop when she’d never needed a man to do wicked things to her like she wanted Nick to do to her right now.
And she knew this wasn’t the absinthe talking. This was all her. Her desires, her wants.
All the air whooshed out of her lungs the moment he drew her nipple sharply into his mouth. It had her arching off the bed to get closer to him. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and it unfurled a new awareness in other parts of her body. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to rush lower, and she felt herself dampen between her legs. Slickness coated her inner thighs as she rubbed them together, desperate for a different kind of touch. Her heart was still racing a mile a minute, and she felt her breasts grow heavier in want of his hands and mouth all over them.
A high keening sound passed her lips when his teeth scraped over the tip of her nipple before he released it to move on to the next.
The cool evening air washed over her bared breasts when he knelt above her. She had a strong urge to cover herself, and he must have read that intent in her expression. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” His command was firm, and one she didn’t hesitate to obey.
She watched him watching her, his gaze trailing along the path his mouth had just taken. How could a look be so erotic? Her breathing came faster, and goose bumps washed over her body. Her nipples were hard peaks of pink, just begging for his mouth to land on them again. She’d never seen herself like this, never imagined showing herself like this to a man. Never imagined wanting the things she wanted right now.
She licked her lips nervously, wanting so badly to ask him
to do what he’d just been doing but unsure how she should voice that desire. She felt her cheeks flush at the very idea of speaking so bluntly. Before she could muster up the courage to speak, he turned her over so she was on her stomach, with the hard tips of her nipples rubbing across the wool blanket, giving her a new type of sensation that wasn’t at all unpleasant.
Nick shoved her chemise out of the way, his rough hand trailing up the back of her legs and to the opening of her drawers at the inside of her thighs. Would he touch her there . . . her eyes slipped closed, and she bit her lip hard in anticipation and in trepidation. She shouldn’t want such a thing, but the more he touched her, the more she wanted what was forbidden.
“How badly do you want me to touch you here?” His fingers grazed over her curls, teasing her. Not giving her enough. “Tell me.”
“I want your touch.” The blanket on the bed muffled her voice, but she couldn’t find the courage to ask for something she didn’t understand.
His hand slipped beneath the drawers the opposite way, cupping and squeezing her buttocks. The motion caused her breath to catch in her throat and come out in soft pants when she could no longer hold them back.
When his hand slid between the crack of her buttocks, she scooted away from his touch, in complete shock that he would touch her there. When she tried to turn over, he placed his hand over the middle of her lower back, keeping her still.
“Shhh . . . ” he said, as though that alone would calm her. “I won’t hurt you, Amelia, but I will know every intimate detail of you.”
When she looked at him over her shoulder, she saw that he wore a resolute expression, like a stamp of ownership. That very look should have had her running, but she only turned and pressed her forehead into the mattress with a groan.
He didn’t touch her there again. Instead, he loosened her corset. “Remove it,” he demanded when he was done with the strings at her back.
She pressed either side of the corset’s busk together to release the clasps at the front. When they snapped, indicating it was apart, he pulled it away. She could feel the lines where the bones had squeezed her skin, and she felt embarrassed that he should see her like that. Even though she was still wearing her chemise and drawers, she’d never been so underdressed in front of anyone.
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