He aroused her nipples to diamond-hard points, pinching gently and rolling the aching buds between his fingers until Brie had to bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud. When he bent to kiss the tips of her breasts, she gasped with pleasure, arching wantonly against his hot mouth. His tongue brushed a taut peak, erotically teasing the sensitive flesh and making Brie writhe. Blindly she reached for him, curling her fingers through his dark hair, wondering if she would survive Dominic's tender assault.
He languidly laved each nipple, setting her nerves on fire with each flick of his tongue as he expertly tutored her in the art of love. And when he had stimulated her senses to a feverish pitch, he slowly slid his hand down to caress the insides of her thighs and the softness between. Brie quivered as his fingers gently explored, but she no more wanted to stop him than she wanted to stop breathing. She wanted to be stroked and caressed by that bold hand, wanted him to put an end to the aching need he aroused in her. She was trembling by the time he raised his head, and her skin was flushed with heat.
"Please . . . she whispered, pleading with him to continue. Urgently, she wrapped her arms around Dominic's neck, pulling his head down, seeking his lips.
His gray eyes glittered in triumph. Obligingly, he clamped his mouth over Brie's, driving his tongue deeply into her honeyed recesses.
Brie surrendered willingly to the sweet fierceness of his kiss, parting her lips ardently under his. She clung to him, oblivious to everything except his touch and the longing she felt for him.
Hot blood surged through Dominic's veins as he felt her fiery response. His lips twisted hungrily against hers, ravaging, taking, giving back again. When he could no longer resist the urge to possess her, he positioned himself between her parted thighs and entered her carefully, fusing their bodies together.
Brie whimpered as his throbbing maleness filled her. When she arched against him, Dominic nearly lost control, but he savagely clamped down on his body's urges. "Slowly, chérie," he murmured against her mouth. "We have all night." Lowering his lips to her quivering breasts once more, he withdrew from her slowly, then thrust into her again, beginning a rhythm that was calculated to arouse her totally.
Dominic made love to her slowly, exquisitely. Again and again, he stroked her with his hardness, thrusting deeply, then drawing away, deliberately prolonging the ecstatic torture.
His erotic attentions drove Brie into a frenzy. She wrapped her legs around his iron-hewed thighs,, grinding her hips against his in an attempt to ease the intense ache that was making her whole body throb. But her efforts brought no relief. Dominic continued his unhurried movements while his mouth made a leisurely meal of her breasts.
Sobbing now, Brie clutched at his shoulders, her hands urging, pleading. But he only captured her wrists and clamped them above her head. She could only writhe helplessly beneath him, waiting for the moment when he chose to end his rapturous torment.
Only when Dominic had driven her to the brink of mindless passion did he raise his head from where he was feasting on her breasts. "Look at me, Brie," he said hoarsely. "I want to see what I do to you." At his command, her eyelids fluttered open, and he could see how dark and slumberous her eyes had become. The pupils were wide and dilated, but the irises were a smokey forest green.
Dominic took her again then, swiftly and fiercely, greedily watching her expression as she began to lose control.
Brie surged against him, clinging to him in desperation. She was drowning; she was falling; she was rocketing to the stars. She cried out Dominic's name, her nails digging into his hard flesh as spasms of delight shot through her body.
Her impassioned cry was captured by Dominic's burning lips, and when he felt her violent tremors, he lost the iron control he had been holding on himself. He groaned, feeling his own muscles grow rigid as a fierce urgent ache suddenly exploded up through his body.
They recovered slowly. Their passion spent, they lay limply entwined, their breathing gradually returning to normal.
Dominic moved first, lifting himself on his elbows to relieve Brie of some of his weight. Brie merely lay where she was, throbbing with warmth, enjoying the heavy feel of him and the warm dampness of his skin.
When she at last floated back to full consciousness, it was to find Dominic gazing down at her with tenderness. Her own eyes were soft and languid as they searched his face. "I . . . I never knew anything could be so wonderful," she murmured.
Laughter rumbled deep in his chest as he brushed a damp curl from her cheek. "Nor I, my vixen," Dominic replied softly. "Nor I."
He delayed his withdrawal to nibble on her ear, then carefully eased his weight from her. Rolling on his side, he pulled Brie against him, nestling her in the curve of his body. When he had drawn the covers up over them, he lay there holding her, wondering at the strange contentment that had stolen over him.
The warmth lulled Brie into a doze, but sleep eluded Dominic. Absently he fingered one of her burnished curls, breathing in the soft fragrance as he tried to make some sense of his feelings.
He was surprised at the intense passion he had aroused in her, but he was more surprised at himself. He had expected his desire to subside once he had satisfied his body's needs, but here he was, holding her tightly, wanting to keep her close always.
Always?
Ridiculous, Dominic told himself—and impossible, besides. Brie had spirit, wit, beauty, everything he could want in a mistress, but while she might have derived as much pleasure from their lovemaking as he had, she would never consent to such an arrangement. She would be offended were he even to suggest it. And what did he want with a little firebrand like Brie anyway? She was an infuriating vixen—beautiful, certainly— but infuriating.
He still wanted her, though. That much was certain. She stirred his blood as no other woman ever had. He would probably grow tired of her after a time . . . but not yet. Dominic smiled to himself, feeling his desire kindle anew.
Brie woke to the pleasant sensation of Dominic's hands caressing her body. Drowsily, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her face for his kiss. When he possessed her mouth, she could sense the urgency of his passion. She parted eagerly for his invading tongue and kissed him back as he had taught her to do—deeply, invitingly.
She was surprised when a moment later Dominic lay back and pulled her on top of him. Brie looked at him questioningly.
"I know how much you enjoy riding astride," he said, his gray eyes gleaming at her.
Blushing, Brie traced a pattern on his bare chest with her forefinger. "Who could refuse such a fine mount, milord?" she replied with brazen impudence.
Dominic grinned and curled his hand behind her neck, drawing her lips down to meet his, letting her silken hair spill over them both in a rippling mantle.
For a long while no more words were spoken. When the heat of their desire had mounted to a feverish pitch, Dominic's stroking hands slid down Brie's back, over the soft curves of her buttocks. Holding her hips, he lifted her up, positioning her above him.
Brie sucked in her breath when he impaled her on his heated shaft, but she arched her back instinctively, wanting more of him.
He began to move then, thrusting deeply inside her, his rhythm slow but sure. Brie followed, tentatively at first, then with more confidence, and it was only a short while before she was gasping. Her fingers tightened on Dominic's shoulders as a sweet piercing throb began to radiate from her very center. Closing her eyes, she gave a guttural moan that was half sob, half cry.
The primitive sound inflamed Dominic. Grasping her hips, he began a relentless, driving rhythm, watching with hungry satisfaction as Brie's head fell back in surrender. He wanted her to discover the depths of her own passion, wanted her writhing with need.
His sweet-savage movements at last sent her over the edge. He felt the shattering ecstasy that rocked her body, felt her rigid, quivering response. Only then did Dominic allow himself one final fierce thrust that ended in wild, surging pleasure for himself
.
Chapter Eleven
He left before the dawn. Unable to sleep, Brie lay in bed, watching the gray morning light banish the night's shadows. She already missed Dominic's warmth, but her expanded knowledge of womanhood had given her something to ponder.
She knew now what the poets meant when they wrote about love and desire. Several times during the night she had tasted passion in the fullest sense, and she had found it a breathtaking experience. Dominic had satisfied her unnamed desires beyond her wildest imaginings. Remembering the feel of his hard, driving male body, the heavy pressure of his loins against hers, Brie felt a warm blush steal over her skin. She hugged her pillow to her stomach, quivering with joy and remembered pleasure. How glorious it had been to be held in Dominic's arms, to surrender to his embrace.
But it was more than just physical desire she felt for him. The longing was in her heart as well. She didn't regret last night. She had been proud that he had wanted her, desired her. Desire—not love. Yet. But perhaps in time Dominic might come to love her.
Determinedly, Brie ignored the thrill of anticipation that thought engendered. She would not let herself dwell too specifically on her future with Dominic. He was leaving today, and although he had promised to call this morning, it would be at least a week before she would see him again in London, if even then. She had learned very little about his plans when they had lain awake last night talking. Dominic had not divulged what he meant to do about the threat on his life, but he had intimated that the business might take him out of the country for a time.
Her own departure for London was planned for the following Friday. Each year at Katherine's insistence, she spent several weeks in town, replenishing her wardrobe and attending the various entertainments the season offered. Katherine would have liked her to choose a husband from among the many gentlemen she met, Brie knew, but she had never found any man who could induce her to risk her heart again. Yet she had often made contacts that benefited her training stables, and that, as much as the enjoyment she derived from the brief visits, kept her going back each year. This trip she would also be taking Caroline home, and since Julian intended to return to his house in town, he would act as their escort.
For a moment, Brie considered moving up the date of her departure, but she quickly discarded the idea. She would place no demands on Dominic, create no ties except those that developed naturally. And if they didn't develop? She shied away from the question. It was enough now to savor her new experience, her love. She had never felt so intensely alive or eager to begin a new day.
She needed a bath, though, Brie thought with a wry smile. Dominic's masculine scent still clung faintly to her skin, and her thighs were sticky with the proof of his passion. She also needed to straighten the room. The bedclothes were in a wild tangle and her nightwear was strewn all over the carpet. It was very obvious that something out of the ordinary had happened, and while she herself was not terribly disturbed by her wanton behavior, she knew Katherine would think it scandalous.
When Brie could safely assume the household was stirring, she rang for a maid and ordered hot water for a bath. When she was immersed in the tub, she relaxed back against the rim, letting the heat soothe her sore muscles. After the emotional onslaught of the past few days, it was good to dwell on nothing but pleasant thoughts. The water felt sensuous against her skin, evoking memories of Dominic's hands and lips. Brie felt a tremor run up her spine as she remembered his tantalizing caresses. They had made her gasp with pleasure, while his burning kisses had left searing trails on her flesh. . . . Brie brought herself up short. She simply could not let herself dwell on such things. She would be blushing all day long.
She made herself concentrate on the task of washing her hair, then the rest of her body, and only after the water had grown quite tepid did she leave her bath. She was drying her thick tresses before the fire when her tranquility was disturbed by Katherine's entrance.
Surprisingly, though, her companion's anxious concern didn't irritate her as it once might have done. She meekly submitted to Katherine's probing inquisition and then dutifully agreed to spend the day doing nothing more strenuous than reading. After breakfast, she found herself ensconced in the drawing room with a book and Caroline for company.
Brie quickly discovered that her powers of concentration had deserted, her, however. The same printed lines of her book kept reappearing and her mind kept wandering dreamily. Caroline, too, was a distraction. The girl obviously suspected what had happened last night, for twice Brie looked up to find herself being regarded speculatively.
Being the object of such intense scrutiny annoyed her. Her feelings were too new to be subjected to Caroline's romantic conjectures. The next time she found herself being watched, she snapped at her cousin, saying she would prefer solitary confinement to Caroline's plaguesome presence.
Caroline obligingly turned her attention to her needlework, but a smile played on her lips. "I beg your pardon, Brie," she replied serenely, "but I find it odd that you have not turned a single page in half an hour. Perhaps a light novel would be more to your liking." Brie started to retort, but just then Garby announced Lord Stanton.
"Show his lordship in, by all means," Caroline ordered with irritating calm, while Brie panicked. What would she say to him? What did a woman say to a man who just a few hours before had shared the intimacies of her bed?
Brie hardly knew where to look when Dominic entered the room, but she was immediately aware of the sheer magnetism that seemed to emanate from him. When she finally found the courage to meet his eyes, her heart did a violent little somersault in her chest, for Dominic was smiling at her—that sweet, melting smile that always turned her limbs to honey. It was all she could do to keep from gazing at him like a moonstruck schoolgirl.
But their meeting really was not as awkward as she had feared. She was at least able to manage an outward show of calm when Dominic greeted her, and his casual attitude when he asked how she was feeling did much to put her at ease. He expressed his regret that he had been called away to London, then turned to speak to Caroline, giving Brie time to compose herself.
She wasn't required to contribute much to the conversation, either. The banter that ensued between Dominic and her cousin surprised her, though. Caroline seemed to have reached some sort of understanding with him, Brie decided as she listened to the girl's artless chatter.
Dominic stayed only a short while, but when he took his leave, he requested the honor of calling on the two cousins when they arrived in London.
Brie extended her hand to him in farewell, wishing it wouldn't tremble so. "But of course, my lord," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "After the events of the past few weeks, life here may seem rather dull without you. Although I fervently hope there will not be quite so much excitement when we next meet."
His warm grin made her heart flutter. "Vixen," Dominic murmured softly as he brought her hand to his lips. When his tongue lightly brushed her knuckles, Brie was reminded so vividly of the passion they had shared that she gasped.
Hearing her sudden intake of breath, Dominic released her hand, but he stood looking down at her for a long moment before turning and striding from the room. Brie let out her breath slowly. Never before did a week seem like such an eternity.
Brie had known Katherine would be shocked to learn about her affair with Dominic, but Dominic's visit that morning had repercussions even Brie hadn't forseen.
At the same moment Dominic was saying farewell, Katherine was leaving the house. Having satisfied herself that Brie was recuperating, she had planned to call on a tenant's sick child and had ordered the tilbury brought around.
She saw the elegant travelling coach drawn by four magnificent bays standing in the drive, but beyond noting the impressive crest on the side panel, she paid no particular attention to the carriage or its driver. She had almost reached her own vehicle when she heard a man gruffly exclaim in French, "Mon Dieu! Could it be? Madame Briggs!"
Hearing the
name she hadn't used in nearly twenty-five years, Katherine turned slowly, afraid of what she might find. The coachman had jumped down and was waving for a groom to hold his horses. When Katherine realized who he was, she took an involuntary step backward, all color draining from her face.
It had been nearly a quarter of a century since she had last seen Jacques, but she had no trouble recognizing the burly Frenchman. He had changed little since then, except perhaps to grow a little broader at the girth. When Katherine had known him, Jacques had been a groom on the Valdois estate, while she had been companion to Lisette Durham and governess to Lisette's daughter Suzanne.
The memories came flooding back, bringing a wave of pain so intense that Katherine might have fallen had not Jacques grasped her frail shoulders in support. When the faintness passed, she realized the coachman was speaking to her in rapid French. She shook her head, not understanding. "Je ne vous comprends pas," she managed to say in the language she had not spoken for years.
Jacques switched to heavily accented English, surprise momentarily making him voluble. "To find you here! I could not believe my eyes when I saw you! It is fate, non? You work here, then? You are in the employ of Mademoiselle Carringdon? Me, I have met her."
Katherine nodded once or twice, letting Jacques talk on while she recovered from the shock of seeing him again. He grinned at her, gesticulating with his hands. "Mon Dieu, it has been many years, madame. We have grown much gray on the head since that time. But it makes my heart glad to find that you are well. You go away so suddenly from France. But you are yet Madame Briggs? You have not remarried?"
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