She made a little sound, almost of confusion, in the back of her throat, but then she slowed herself. And the kiss went on and on until every nerve in his body was on fire.
“Please,” she whispered against his lips, her fingers digging into his back. “Please, please.”
He nodded and cupped her backside, lifting her to him. She wrapped her long legs around his hips, rocking against him as he carried her to her bed. He laid her down and covered her, fully clothed as he continued to kiss her.
“Hurry,” she mumbled as she dragged her hands down his back and cupped his backside, tugging him hard against her with a tiny moan at the abrasion of his rough trousers against her soft, wet sex.
“Not this time,” he growled against her neck before he began to lick and kiss a trail lower. He nipped at her skin, sucking, tasting, savoring her flavor. She writhed beneath him, whispering incoherent sounds of pleasure that ripped through his veins and burned in his blood and his gut and his cock. He wanted to tear the flap of his trousers down and just take her, but he resisted.
Today wasn’t simply about claiming. Today was something more. He needed it to be about more because she’d given so much a short while ago.
So he continued the path down her body, pausing at the sweet swell of her breasts. He pressed them together, licking a trail back and forth, sucking hard on one nipple, then the other. He watched her as he pleasured her, watching the twitch of her mouth, the flush of her skin, felt her hips rub and rub against him, trying to find release that he wouldn’t give. He loved that responsiveness, that utter disregard for anything but sensation. He wanted to keep her there, cut off from anything but these good feelings, for as long as he could.
He dropped his mouth lower, across the smooth expanse of her stomach. He nudged the sensitive flesh with the rough beginnings of stubble, and she actually arched up, her toes flexing against the bed beneath them.
“Please!” she cried out, this time with more aggression. “Derrick!”
He shook his head as he lifted it. “Miss Oliver, you may control a great deal. But not me.”
Her pupils dilated and her nipples hardened a bit more. She liked when he took control. He understood why now. Her entire life she’d been balanced on a precipice of despair. She’d never been able to depend on anyone.
Would that have turned her to crime?
No. He wouldn’t think about that. Not when he was covering her naked body with his, steeped in her warmth and her surrender. He refused to think about his suspicions.
He wanted to take even a fraction of the load for her. By controlling even a little of her experience, he hoped it would be like a pressure release valve.
“I could control you if I wanted to,” she purred, but she made no effort to do so and simply relaxed back on the pillows, her eyes coming closed as he edged his way between her legs.
He could already scent the sweetness of her desire, heady and powerful. He pushed her legs wider and her outer lips parted, revealing her slick opening. He swept a finger across her and she moaned.
“You probably could,” he agreed softly. “But today you won’t.”
“Mmm” was her only response, and he smiled as he lowered his head and licked her.
He loved her flavor. That heady sweet and saltiness of her sex was better than any wine. He wanted to memorize all of its notes, all of its expressions. Savor it like a dying man’s last meal.
Perhaps it would be. The party was coming to a close in a few days. Whatever his worries about her role as the Fox, this would end. They would end.
“Selina,” he breathed against her, pushing everything else aside and diving into pleasuring her. Because in that moment, he felt too desperate to do anything else.
Chapter 17
Selina felt the shift in Derrick as he began to lick her in earnest. Where when they started he’d been slow and steady, in no rush, now there was a purpose to the way he stroked her with his tongue. Something had changed, but her mind was too blurred by pleasure to figure out what. He swirled his tongue around her clitoris with the perfect pressure, and the effect sizzled through her entire body. She was weightless and boneless, rendered helpless by his mouth on her, his fingers sliding into her sheath and pumping as he sucked her. Harder and harder, faster and faster as she lifted her hips into him.
The orgasm came hard and heavy and fast, washing over her, stealing her breath. She covered her mouth with her hand, crying out against it as the waves continued to wash over her like a never-ending sea. Her entire body shook when he finally released her and made a lazy trail back up her body to kiss her. She tasted her release on his tongue, warm and sweet, and it made her sex twitch all over again, needing more than just his mouth to be satisfied.
But he seemed in no hurry, just as he’d promised earlier. He simply kissed her, his arms coming around her, tucking her into his still fully clothed body. She arched a leg around his hip, grinding against him as the kiss deepened.
He chuckled and pulled back, his handsome face just inches from her own. “You are unstoppable.”
“A force to be reckoned with,” she whispered back with a smile, her first real one since she confessed her past to him.
“I hope that never changes,” he said, kissing her nose before he got up and left her in her bed.
She sat up in a jolt. “You’re not leaving?”
His eyebrows lifted as he turned back toward her. He motioned to the hard line of his cock, pushing insistently against his trouser front. “You think I could? No, I’m just going to divest myself of my clothing before I finish what we started.”
Her eyes went wide and she settled back on the pillows. “Show me. Undress for me.”
His stare grew more focused and then he laughed, that sound another tug both to her heart and between her legs. “Unstoppable,” he repeated.
But he didn’t deny her. He reached up and slowly untied his cravat. Unwinding the fabric as he maintained eye contact with her. He dropped it away and pushed his jacket to the floor next. He took his time with his shirt, unbuttoning every button with a seductive flare.
Her breath caught as he tugged the linen from his waistband and slowly pulled the shirt over his head. His stomach muscles flexed with the effort, revealing fascinating lines of his body that she’d never seen on any other man she’d bedded. She inched to her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed so she could explore further. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, gliding over the toned flesh, tracing her nails over the ridges, into the valleys. He watched her as she did it, gaze focused on her face rather than her hands.
She leaned in and brushed her cheek against his stomach, turning to press her lips to the exposed skin. He touched her hair, his fingers clenching against her scalp like they had when she took his cock in her mouth. She licked him, tracing the muscle, loving how it contracted against her tongue when his breath shortened.
“What were you saying about not letting me be in control?” she murmured against his flesh as she looked up into his face.
He was smiling and her breath caught. How could one man be so beautiful? So perfect in form? But better than that, how could he have such honor? Be so kind? So intelligent? She’d never imagined such a man could exist, let alone could walk into her life.
Of course, he was there to destroy her, whether he knew it or not. And that was why this was all hopeless. That was why she couldn’t let the skip of her heart lead her down foolish trails.
She could fuck this man. Nothing more.
“If you want control, then direct me, Selina,” he said, placing a finger beneath her chin and tilting her face up for a kiss. “I’m at your command.”
Her breath quickened at that idea. Derrick had always been so forceful when he took her. Always in command, always drawing her where he wanted her to be. She loved that. Loved every powerful, passionate moment of it. But the concept that she could do the same to him?
That was magic.
She pointed to the settee before t
he fire. “Take off the rest,” she said evenly, “and sit there. Better yet, sprawl there like you men like to do, looking all dark and dangerous.”
He laughed again, then bowed slightly. “As you wish, my lady.”
He moved to the settee and she slid off the bed, padding around to stand before the fire as he sat down and pulled off his boots. Then he stood and unfastened his trousers, met her eyes and pushed them from his hips to land in a pile at his feet.
She shivered seeing the whole of him naked. Somehow she’d thought that would stop moving her once she’d seen it the first time. But he still made her tremble. He still made her weak and wet and ready without doing much more than simply existing in her world.
After this was over, she would still know he existed. She had no doubt that knowledge would haunt her, as would memories of these stolen moments in his arms.
She shrugged off the thought and waved him toward the settee with one hand. “Slouch.”
He shook his head as he sat down on the velvety cushions and then splayed out there, slouched as ordered, legs the perfect perch for her, arms rested on the back of the settee as he watched her.
“Now what?” he asked, his voice low and rough with a desire that matched her own.
“Now you’re mine,” she murmured, and slid over to him. She eased over his lap, aligning her still-wet sex to his hard cock. She gripped his shoulders as she glided down over him, taking him fully inside of her inch by wonderful inch. When she was filled to the brim, she rested her forehead on his with a trembling sigh.
“God, what you do to me,” he moaned on her throat, licking there gently, sucking until she shivered and flexed over him almost against her own will. Even when she was over him, he still directed her. That puppet on his string.
So she broke the string and began to ride him. She moved hard and fast, grinding down over him to stimulate herself, drawing almost fully away so she could receive the full benefit of her body.
He grunted, his neck straining as he cupped her backside and rocked her harder. She tilted her head and kissed him, everything lost focus, nothing mattered but this. And she rode and rode, pleasure arcing and spreading and warming and teasing through her whole body.
His breath was rough, he moaned her name with pleasure and she loved it. Loved that he was just as lost as she was. Loved that there was only one way to be found and that was when the pleasure overflowed.
Hers was just about ready to do that. Again the pressure built between her legs, hot and heavy and insistent. She needed release, she burned for it. She burned for him and only him now and forever. That thought scarred her entire being just as the pleasure took over and she jerked against him with a cry he caught with his tongue.
His fingers dug into her hips and she pressed hard against him, grinding her flesh to his body as she came and came and came until she felt like there was nothing left of her. She was a shell, stripped clean by their joining, weak and limp in his arms.
He picked her up then, holding her legs around his waist, keeping their bodies joined as he took her back to the bed. He leaned her against the edge, his hands clenching into fists in the coverlet on either side of her hips.
And then he took her hard and fast. Her still-twitching body rushed back to life, the orgasm rekindled by the passion of his claiming. She scratched his back with her nails as she tried to maintain purchase, her thighs clenched around his hips tightly.
He let out a cry in the quiet and then he withdrew, his hot seed pumping between them as he sank his head into the crook of her shoulder, teeth scraping her skin, sweat mingling.
And for the moment, there was nothing else but this.
Selina had no idea how long they’d been lying together in her bed. Too long, certainly, but none of it mattered anymore. If anyone was looking for them, they could keep looking. She wanted nothing more than to be in Derrick’s arms, her head on his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat as it thudded beneath her ear.
His fingers threaded through her hair, smoothing over her scalp, dancing over her shoulders. It was perfect. Too perfect. Too close.
But for once in her life, she didn’t feel like running.
“I need to ask you a question,” he said, his voice rough in the quiet.
She tensed in his arms. A question. Great God, could it be the question? The one other women tittered and cooed and squealed over? The question she had always avoided in her lovers because none of them had ever meant more to her than a bit of fun?
Was it possible Derrick Huntington was about to ask her a question that would change her life? What would she say? How could she answer at all, knowing that she was nothing more than a lie?
“Selina?”
She lifted her head and looked at him, struggling to keep her expression passive as she nodded. “Yes, sorry. What is it?”
He looked nervous, and that made her all the more nervous. Great God, he really was going to ask her the question. Right here in this perfect moment in her bed.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why was your glove in Lady Winford’s chamber?”
Over the years, Selina had developed the talent to keep her reaction from her face. Being too honest, too open, in her expression was a very dangerous thing for a woman like her. Perhaps for a woman in general, given the power men held over their sex. She was proud of how she’d developed the ability to keep all emotion at bay and confuse anyone who tried to read her.
But in this moment, she couldn’t use that skill. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes went wide even though she didn’t want them to do so. She pushed away from Derrick’s chest and sat up, tugging covers with her so that she wouldn’t be physically revealed as much as she was emotionally revealed.
“What are you talking about?” she choked out. “My glove?”
His brow wrinkled. “This morning one of the maids found your glove on the floor in Lady Winford’s chamber. Do you know how it might have gotten there?”
Selina shook her head, trying to find any kind of explanation for this incriminating news. More so, trying to understand the answer herself. How had her glove come to be in the Winford chamber? She had no idea! Had she been so careless as to leave it there? No. She’d been wearing both gloves when she returned to her chamber and she’d never gone back.
“I must have lost the glove the night we first searched the chamber together,” she said, barely keeping the tremble from her voice. “Perhaps it was kicked under the bed somehow and that delayed its discovery.”
He shook his head slowly. “No, Selina. They were the gloves you were wearing last night.”
She swallowed hard. “How could you possibly know that?”
He leaned a little closer and his hand stirred like he wanted to touch her. But he didn’t. He didn’t, and her heart hurt. “Because I remember peeling them off your fingers,” he whispered. “I remember seeing the little embroidered initials inside. I remember your scent clinging to them, vanilla and cinnamon, the same one that clings to me when I’ve spent any time at your side. They were the gloves you wore last night, Selina. And you had both of them when I came to your chamber to make love to you. Aside from the fact you weren’t wearing gloves the night we searched the chamber. So the one had to have been left in Lady Winford’s chamber after we parted company.”
Selina pushed from the bed, hating how exposed she felt physically and emotionally. And also how compromised she was by her lack of knowledge. If she knew how her damned glove had gotten into the chamber, she could have probably created a passable lie. But since she had no idea…
“Selina.” His tone was sharper. No longer the voice of her lover who had comforted her and pleased her and held her. No, this was the voice of Derrick Huntington, investigator. She wasn’t his bed partner anymore—she was a suspect.
And she stung from the loss of connection as much as she trembled from fear that he was about to uncover all her secrets.
“I don’t know,” she breathed, b
ecause that was the truth and he would see that. “I don’t know how the glove could have possibly gotten into the room, because I never went there.”
“Not even to help me?” he pressed. “Not to take part in the investigation against my wishes?”
She shook her head. That wasn’t what he thought. She could tell from his voice. He really did suspect her. And she had to get him to change his course right now.
“No, I never went back,” she said, strong with that truth again. “But…but perhaps the Fox did it.”
One brow arched and he stared at her. “How?”
“He could have gone there looking for the necklace and dropped my glove,” she said, desperate for the answer that would make Derrick stop looking at her like she was a liar. She was a liar, but seeing it on his face was like ripping her heart out.
“Why would he have your glove?” he pressed. “How could he had gotten it if you never left your chamber last night after I departed?”
She worried her lip, trying to come up with an explanation. She walked away from him as she did it and crossed to her dressing table. She opened her top drawer, trying to find something to do with her hands and saw her few pieces of jewelry there. It was funny, she rarely wore any. She just stole it from other people.
Most of her pieces weren’t worth much, except for a pair of cameo earrings that Robert had given her at Morgan and Lizzie’s wedding the previous year. And looking at them, she developed a plan. Not a perfect plan, but a plan nonetheless.
She made a show of digging in her drawer and used the distraction to palm the earrings. “Derrick!” she cried out. “Derrick, my earrings are gone!”
“What?” he said, getting out of the bed and coming to her side.
When he stared into the drawer, she took a moment to drop the cameo earrings into the pocket of her robe. How she hated herself for it. And for all the lies she would now tell.
The Heart of a Hellion Page 17