An image of her body sprawled in sensual pleasure whipped
32 Bonnie Hamre
through him. Her lush body, slender and yet voluptuous, would tease and arouse him until his control threatened to snap under the weight of just a murmur, or one movement of silken limbs. Her legs, long and shapely, enticed him. He imagined them clasped around his waist as she begged him for release. Her breasts, full and just the right size for his hand, made him sweat.
He would muss her, he vowed. And she would love it.
"Pity," he drawled. "I would make sure you emerged from the bushes with more than a satisfied look on your beautiful face."
"You have a vivid imagination, your grace."
He hid a grin. She'd had only a taste of his inventive mind. He could hardly wait until their next meeting. "Do I?" he asked in a languid voice though his body was taut and hardened with desire. "Shall we compare our fantasies, then? I'll tell you one of mine, then you shall tell me yours."
She flicked him a small, seductive smile. "I think not, sir. I have
heard of your legendary prowess with the ladies. I am afraid that I
could not compete."
"I don't want your competition, madam," he said in a voice suddenly harsh. ""I want you."
A Lady's Quest 33
CHAPTER FIVE
Sutherland entered the dim bedchamber and paused while his eyes adjusted to the dark. The sumptuous room lured him in with promises of sensual delight. The mingled aromas of fresh flowers, subtle perfume and the lingering scent of sexual release made his nostrils flare.
He made his way to the reclining figure on the bed. Wearing the emerald green mask and gown she hid behind, Lady Antonia Blair-Sutworth presented a most delicious sight. She rested on an elbow, the gown slipping off her shoulder to reveal pale skin that gleamed like vanilla satin in the candlelight. One knee was drawn up, the other leg extended with the gown draped just so, enough to tantalize him with glimpses of her shapely legs and the merest hint of the chestnut curls between her thighs.
His mouth went dry with anticipation of the things he would do to her this afternoon. He'd come prepared. As he neared the bed, he saw that the green mask fluttered as she breathed. The cloth rose and fell with her bosom. So, she, too, was eager. That made his task all the more pleasant and rewarding.
He'd vowed he'd keep his mind cool and uncluttered, that he would delve the depths of sensuality with her without he himself becoming affected. In short, he vowed he'd teach her a lesson, a dangerous esson, about the depths of depravity and decadence. After today, she would know better than to allow anyone but himself into her bed.
Without waiting for her permission, he stripped off his fine linen shirt and tossed it carelessly on a nearby chair. In his buckskin trou-
34 Bonnie Hamre
sers, he placed one knee on the bed and allowed himself one tender touch, just for his pleasure, before he steeled his nerve to carry out his plan.
Her skin was warm, smooth to his fingertips. She quivered at his touch, telling him wordlessly that she was already aroused. Good. By the time he was done with her, she'd know all there was to know about arousing unfulfilled desires. He almost smiled at the thought of himself, Dougal MacDonald, randy seventh duke of Sutherland, so besotted with her that he'd stoop to playing stud for her.
"Good afternoon," she murmured in the low and throaty voice that enchanted him. "Are you going to speak today?"
When he said nothing, she continued, "No? Then I shall speak for us both. I was content with yesterday's interview. Have you something new to show me today?"
He grinned. Taking her hand, he held it to his cheek ashe nodded yes.
"M'mra, that's good. Would you like to begin?"
Again, he indicated he would. He kissed her hand, then replaced it on her hip. She settled more comfortably into the plump pillows at her back as she waited for him to start making love to her.
He considered, then reached for the small leather case he'd placed on the table next to the flickering candle. He opened it, eyed the contents, and withdrew a plume with soft, eider down feathers. He tested it on his neck then drew it slowly along hers.
"What is that?" she gasped.
In response, he drew the feather down the edge of her robe, now tracing the gold embroidery, now skirting the edge of the material to brush her bare skin. She shivered.
He feathered every inch of exposed skin, making her skin tremble under his touch, until he reached her toes. She laughed as he tickled the soles of her feet, but her laughter changed to a pleased murmur when he found the sensitive spot behind her knee.
"You are a devil, aren't you?" she all but moaned when the feather reached the back of her thigh and teased the chestnut curls.
Sutherland grinned. She had experienced only the beginning. With the tip of the feather, he drew the robe back slowly, caressing her as
A LADY'S QUEST 35
he exposed her. She parted her legs for him, inviting more, but he ignored the offer and drew the robe back up over her thigh. He paused to exchange the soft downy feather for a stiffer one, a fine egret. With that, he traced the enticing curve of her hip, pushing the robe back as he went, until her entire hip and the swell of her buttock was his.
She murmured, low in her throat.
He pulled the robe from her in slow motion, using the silken fabric as an additional caress on her skin, until she lay open and naked for him. He moved her to her stomach, positioning her the way he wanted her, with one leg slightly bent and the other extended. Satisfied with the way she was open to him, he ran the egret feather from ankle to thigh. Her skin, soft and finely textured, quivered as he passed, increasingly so as he reached the curve of her blind cheeks. He ran the feather between the twin mounds, first up toward the base of her spine, then back again, slower this time, lingering, tantalizing, making her moan, until he reached the softest flesh of her outer lips.
He withdrew the feather and brushed it over the back of his hand. The feathers were damp with her dew. Gratified, he placed the feather back in the case and while one hand rested on her hip to keep her in place, he selected a small jar of lotion.
He uncapped it, sniffed it and replaced it. Choosing another, he tested it again and pleased with this one, he left the cap on the table while he poured a small amount of the lotion into the hollow above her buttocks.
She tensed at the feel of the cool lotion, then relaxed as he began to smooth it in slow circles, kneading away any remaining tension. The scent of almonds filled the air about them as the lotion warmed under the combined heat of his hand and her back. He felt her muscles go limp under his ministrations and nodded with satisfaction.
He loved the way she responded to him. Granted, he was using all the seductive tricks he knew to batter her senses, but as she responded so willingly and wholeheartedly, he found his determination not to feel anything weakening. His rigid cock chafed against the confines of his clothing. He gritted his teeth against the ache and set his mind again to ignore his own lust.
36 Bonnie Hamre
He continued the sensual massage until every inch of her back, shoulders and legs had been covered with the scented lotion. He eased her over on her back and paused to view his handiwork. In the candlelight, he saw her full breasts and the dark aureoles surrounding her already hard and extended nipples. Pouring more lotion into her navel, he began his massage again.
When he had covered every inch but her breasts, he sat back on his haunches a moment to contemplate his next move. By the way she moved against the sheets, he knew she was eager for more. Her skin was flushed, warm from his ministrations, aromatic with the scent of almonds, her own perfume, and the scent of aroused woman, what the French called cassolette, perfume box.
"Don't stop now," she pleaded.
Smiling, Sutherland bent his head, placed his open mouth on one breast and did nothing for a moment but inhale her fragrance. His head reeled with the seductive, sensual scent of a woman who was not afraid of h
er own sexual nature, who even now was urging him on to greater heights of sensuality.
Obliging both her pleas and his need to make love to his woman, he traced the aureole, gently at first, then varying his touch, loving the firm texture and the way her skin puckered and her nipple grew even harder and longer in his mouth. He nipped gently, small love bites that increased her sensitivity and her pleasure. He sucked, gently at first, then harder as he suckled, taking what he vaguely understood and then accepted as both lustful and a more enduring nourishment from her.
He turned to the other breast, giving it the same dedicated, thorough attention while his hand caressed the breast he had just left, keeping it satisfied and the nipple hard under his palm.
Her breathing grew heavier.
He left her breast for a moment to nuzzle the sweet, tender flesh of her armpit. He inhaled deeply, aroused by her femininity, then showered her with kisses and drew her skin into his mouth, leaving faint marks behind on her skin. She arched her back, giving more of
A Lady's Quest 37
herself to him, and he couldn't help the low growl of possession with which he accepted the gift of herself.
She lifted a knee, drawing his attention to her parted thighs. Smiling to himself at her responsiveness and eagerness for more, he now followed her hint and traced with his tongue a lingering, teasing path to the curls between her thighs. He nipped at her skin as he went, easing the tiny hurt with kisses, as he inched his way around her navel to the satiny skin below it. He followed with his hand, pulling gently at the curls, until she moaned as he cupped her mound.
He caressed the fleshy outer lips for a moment, while he positioned himself, he slipped an elbow under her raised knee, and then kissed his way up to her muff. He placed gentle, open mouthed kisses on the closed lips as though she were an inexperienced virgin he was initiating, enjoying the way she chafed under his restraint, until she reached for his head and holding him by the temples, grated, "More!"
He chuckled and obeyed.
He gave her deeper tongue strokes, parting the lips with his tongue until he came to the treasure within. She moaned with pleasure and came immediately. Her orgasm pleased him immensely. Lifting his head, he took the heady moisture and smoothed it on her belly, then lapped it up, enchanted by both her response and the fragrance of her moist perfume. She lay still under his mouth, yet her skin rippled and quivered, telling him without words that she was still aroused and ready for more.
He gave her more. Bending his head to her once more, he put his mouth on her still quivering bud and licked. When that wasn't enough, he inserted his tongue into her intimate recesses and then withdrew. She tightened her legs about him. He penetrated her again and again with his tongue, deliberately controlling his almost frantic need to replace his tongue with his yard, until she came, again and again, in great flooding orgasms.
She lay limp under him.
When he took his mouth away, she moaned and attempted to curl up on her side. He prevented her by placing a hand on her hip, keeping her in place, while the other hand cupped her mound. With a
38 Bonnie Hamre
finger, he traced the path his tongue had taken earlier.
"No more," she whimpered. "I can't stand any more"
He ignored her just as he ignored his own desperate need. Wanting, needing, aching to thrust into her and relieve his own painful arousal, he penetrated her, finding the silken inner walls still contracting around his finger. He added another finger and placed his thumb on her bud, arousing her with strokes and gentle pressure until she cried out and convulsed around his fingers.
He left them there until the last shudder died away and she slept.
He stood and studied her as she lay, arms and legs tangled in the mussed sheets. Instead of feeling satisfied that he' d beaten her at her own game, he had to admit that it was he who had surrendered. He'd succumbed to her womanly sensuality and wanted her more than ever. She was everything he could ever hope for. Passionate, comfortable with her own sexual need, she'd match him in bed and demand more and more. He'd die happy trying to satisfy her.
Though he'd come haring to London to make her his mistress, knowing full well that they'd tire of each other eventually, that was no longer enough. Now that he'd tasted her, experienced how she responded to him, he'd be damned if he'd release her to move on to another liaison. From now on, no man but he would share her bed.
Like it or not, Lady Antonia Blair-Sutworth was his, forever.
A Lady's Quest 39
CHAPTER SIX
Late that evening, Sutherland saw Antonia going into midnight supper on the arm of the Honorable Edward St. John. A moment of fury passed through him before he regained the rigid control he cultivated. How could she look so radiant, so damned beautiful on the arm of another man after he had wracked himself to bring her pleasure this afternoon?
Jealousy, hot and violent, followed his footsteps as he strode, barely slowing to acknowledge the other guests of the Baroness of Rockingham's ball. Though she tried to detain him with thanks for gracing her home, and thus making her a name to be reckoned within the haute ton, he barely spoke two words to her on his way to Antonia.
He reached her side just as St. John seated her. Sutherland grasped the back of the chair the other man had intended for himself and seated himself before St. John could protest.
He nodded to the startled man. "Thanks, St. John, for allowing me to take your place."
With nothing to do but bow gracefully before the peer, St. John did just that and murmured an apology before he disappeared into the crush.
"That was very rude of you, your grace. Perhaps you should have inquired if I desired your company before you acted so rashly."
'And good evening to you, my lady. You are more beautiful than ever." He meant every word. She was truly exquisite this evening, her green eyes sparkling and her skin the color of pale porcelain,
40 Bonnie Hamre
barely tinged with a subtle warmth. Her chestnut hair, burnished from the light of a hundred candelabra, was piled high in an intricate style that accentuated her slender neck and beautiful shoulders. If he looked closely, he could just detect the faint markings of the love bite he had given her that afternoon.
Gratified, he sat back in his chair and watched her. Her gown, a deep red that brought out the creaminess of her skin, had a low décolletage that emphasized her bosom. He remembered the feel of her skin, the texture of the aureoles and the way her nipples had hardened to little kernels in his mouth. He was instantly aroused.
She looked like a woman who had been loved well and long. She had that languid, sated air that kept the men surrounding her frantic to know who had bedded her and why that man had not been himself. Sutherland smiled. They might not know it, but the luscious lady was going to torment them in just that manner quite often. He would see to that.
He smiled at the thought.
She saw his smile, satisfied and proud, and frowned in return. How dare he, no matter that he was Dougal MacDonald, the utterly masculine beautiful seventh duke of Sutherland who had stolen her heart, how dare he interrupt her supper with St. John and burden her with his presence. Why wouldn't he leave her in peace!
"Has something displeased you, my lady? Perhaps the lobster patties are not to your liking?"
She scanned the plate of food she had not yet touched. Though it displayed a tempting assortment of the delicacies the Baron's chef was famous for, she had no appetite.
She glanced at the man beside her. Clad as all the other gentlemen in faultless evening attire, on him the severe black and snowy white cravat were outstanding. The fit of his coat across his broad shoulders was perfection, leaving no one in doubt that he needed no padding to enhance their breadth. The white of his impeccably tied neckcloth against his tanned skin was almost blinding. His brown eyes in his chiseled face were fixed only on her.
He didn't even look at the women, all gowned in the latest fash-
A lady's Quest
41
ions, who flitted by, décolletages so low that the bodice barely covered their breasts. His gaze was fixed on her, as if he could see through her clothing to her nakedness beneath. Her throat went dry. She lifted the crystal glass to her lips and took a sip of champagne. The sparkling wine soothed her throat and calmed her nerves.
She smoothed her white silk evening glove over her wrist. "Is it your exalted rank that makes you feel you can do as you please without regard to other's wishes?"
Her cool tone, disdainful and not quite hiding her pique, interrupted Sutherland's study of her. No man spoke to him thus. He waited a moment until his pride settled down. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "If being a Duke doesn't allow me to have what I want, what good is it?"
She gasped. Sutherland smiled at her reaction to his trifling dismissal of the responsibilities and duties that accompanied the privilege of his position.
"Do not jest with me, your grace."
"Then do not speak foolishly, my dear."
"J am not your dear."
He smiled at her denial. "I would speak less quickly, if I were you."
She frowned, a tiny narrowing of her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I shall tell you at the proper time."
Antonia's frown deepened. This smacked of the authoritarian control her husband had exerted. She had no intention of submitting to anything like it ever again.
"There will be no time, proper or otherwise, for you, your grace."
"I am afraid you are going to be most surprised. I can only hope it will not be an unpleasant shock."
She cast a quick glance at his face. His eyes glowed and his face was lit by an odd smile. What could he find so amusing? Unnerved that he should know something she did not, she wracked her brain for an explanation. She came up with nothing. He could not possibly know of her afternoon interviews.
If he but knew! She thought of the lovemaking she had experieenced this afternoon, and only wished she had stayed awake long enough to inform the man of her decision. Whoever he was, she would
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