‘Ah,’ he moaned, his lips a trail of fire across the full swell of her breasts. ‘May I touch you, Elena?’ Adam raised his head to look at her, his eyes an intense glittering grey, a dark flush across the sculptured planes of his cheekbones. ‘May I look at you there, touch you and then kiss you?’
Elena could no longer breathe, felt as if she were drowning in the unfathomable depths of his eyes, finally dragging her own gaze away to instead look at his lips. Sensuously soft lips. Lips that he’d asked if he might kiss her with. Not on her own lips, but on her breasts. As he would perhaps wish to kiss that other, even more intimate place between her thighs, too?
Elena felt a sudden warm rush of moistness just at the thought of Adam touching her there. With his hands. With his lips. With his tongue, perhaps?
Did men and woman do that to each other? Would Adam expect her to touch and kiss him with the same shocking level of intimacy?
Elena thought that he might.
Because Adam believed her to be a widow. A woman who had been married, and was therefore perfectly familiar with the physical intimacies that took place between a man and a woman. He thought she would not be shocked by the things he was saying to her, the things he was describing he wished to do to and with her.
She trembled with longing, but had to be prudent. ‘We cannot—I could not permit—’ She gave an embarrassed shake of her head even as she straightened her shoulders, determined to get her point across. ‘I could not permit full intimacy.’ There, she had said it! And surely, now that she was aware of the reason for Adam’s hasty marriage to Fanny Worthington, he would not want to take the risk of impregnating her, either?
‘I would not ask for it,’ Adam reassured her immediately.
‘Then…yes, you may.’ Elena’s stomach gave a sickening lurch of anticipation even as her heart skipped several beats. ‘But—is it not overly bright in here?’ She glanced self-consciously about the candlelit room.
Adam gave her an understanding look. ‘Would you feel more relaxed if I were to blow out some of the candles?’
‘Or all of them,’ she suggested ruefully.
He made a throaty sound of protest. ‘Then I would not be able to see you at all!’
Of course he would not. And Elena knew she should not allow him to see her. Except her breasts now ached so as they pressed and throbbed against the confines of her gown, bursting to be free, as if they at least knew, and ached, for the pleasures of Adam’s hands and mouth.
If Adam had been in the least rough with her, or demanding, or seemed in the least arrogantly triumphant about her obvious responses to him, then Elena knew she would not have hesitated to refuse him. It was Adam’s very gentleness—his gentlemanliness, his regard for her own comfort and pleasure—which now piqued Elena’s curiosity to know, to experience the desire of a man not intent upon hurting her.
‘A few less candles alight would be…preferable,’ she conceded.
‘Then fewer candles you shall have.’ He reached up to cup her chin, the soft pad of his thumb a caress against her bottom lip as he looked down at her searchingly. ‘I will not do anything you do not wish for, Elena.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I never thought that you would.’
‘No?’ Adam was sure he was not mistaken about the trepidation he had seen in the depths of her eyes. As if she feared he might somehow hurt her. As someone else—her husband, perhaps?—had once hurt her? Adam had never been able to understand why a man, any man, would ever wish to hurt a woman rather than give her pleasure.
Even in the depths of the despair over his awful marriage with Fanny, despite several times suffering the painful provocation of her scratching and biting, Adam had never once felt a desire to instigate physical retribution of his own. Partly, perhaps, because Fanny seemed to want, even crave him to lose control and strike her, before taking her in a sexually violent manner, which Adam had refused to do. He’d found it totally abhorrent and against his very nature to dominate a woman in that way.
He already knew Elena well enough to know she was Fanny’s complete opposite, in looks as well as temperament. A woman of dignity and elegance, gentleness, and yet at the same time deeply hidden passions. A quietly self-contained woman, who did not need to be constantly reckless in her efforts to prove her feminine power over men. Over him.
As if sensing some of the unpleasantness of his thoughts, Elena reached up to gently smooth the frown from between his eyes. ‘I fear we have both been hurt in the past.’
‘Yes…’
She nodded. ‘I will make myself comfortable on the chaise and unbutton my gown whilst you blow out some of the candles.’
Adam looked down at her intently for several more seconds before nodding his satisfaction with the trust he could see in her eyes. ‘I should like that very much.’ He released her before turning away, primarily to give her the privacy to unfasten the back of her gown, but also so that he might move about the room extinguishing half a dozen of the eight lit candles.
The room was thrown into golden shadow by the time Adam crossed the room to join Elena on the chaise, his eyes glittering even more brightly in the soft glow of the dimmed candlelight as he looked down at her. ‘It hardly seems fair if I remain fully dressed.’
She blinked those long dark lashes. ‘And if Jeffries should decide to return, after all?’
‘He will not.’
Elena paused for a second to think before speaking. ‘I—is Jeffries accustomed to your bringing women here and making love to them—?’ She fell silent as Adam placed his fingertips against her lips.
‘No, he is not, he merely knows when he is dismissed for the evening,’ Adam answered firmly, evenly, knowing it was a fair question for Elena to ask, but resenting it all the same. ‘I never bring the women I…take to my bed, to my estates, Elena. Nor would I ever think of doing so now, when my grandmother and daughter are both abed upstairs.’
Her smile was strained once he had removed his fingertips. ‘Perhaps, then, it is nothing more than a convenience that I am already here?’
Adam closed his eyes briefly. ‘My desire for you is not in the least “convenient”,’ he assured ruefully. ‘Indeed, it is most inconve- nient. It is just—I can no longer resist wanting to kiss and touch you, Elena,’ he admitted gruffly.
Her cheeks coloured warmly. ‘I apologise. I—’ She moistened her lips, unknowingly drawing the heat of Adam’s gaze to that provocative movement. ‘I am only—I have never—this is not something I have ever done—allowed—before.’
He knew that, had been aware of her shyness when she asked for most of the candles in the room to be extinguished before she allowed him to look upon her breasts.
Elena might be a widow, but Adam knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she had not become promiscuous after her husband died, and her very youth, and the brief duration of her marriage, implied that she could not been so beforehand, either. Nor did that marriage itself appear to have given her the physical satisfaction she deserved and that Adam wished to share with her, if her continued shyness was any indication.
His gaze continued to hold hers as he stepped back slightly. ‘I believe it only fair that I join you in partially disrobing.’ His hands moved up to remove his superfine and untie his neckcloth, before putting them both aside, his waistcoat joining them seconds later. He unfastened the three buttons of his shirt and then pulled it free from the waistband of his breeches to leave it hanging free about his thighs.
Elena sat unmoving as she watched Adam between thick dark lashes, her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest as she looked at the gold smoothness of his skin revealed at this throat, the fine dusting of hair on his chest also just visible. She was barely breathing as she waited to see if he would remove the shirt completely.
She had taken off her gloves so that she could unfasten the buttons at the back of her gown, the release having somewhat lessened the pressure against the fullness of her breasts, but that very freedom of movement serving to hei
ghten the full and tingling sensation at their tips.
Quite what happened next, Elena had no idea, but she was happy—indeed, she quivered with eagerness!—at the thought of putting herself into Adam’s gentle and more experienced hands. And lips. And tongue. And teeth…
Adam did not remove his shirt, but sat down beside her on the chaise, the warmth of his thigh resting against the length of hers. He reached out and slowly slid the loosened material of her gown from her shoulders and down the length of her bare arms before slipping the bodice down completely, her breasts only covered by the thin material of her chemise now. ‘You have beautiful hands…’ he murmured even as he raised one of those hands to his lips to kiss each individual finger before once again looking up into her eyes. ‘I should very much like to feel them against the bareness of my chest, so if you will help me to remove my shirt…?’
Elena was moved beyond words by Adam’s continued tenderness, knew that most men—how that past memory was still burned within!—would have simply made an eager grab at her breasts rather than take the time to kiss her fingers, totally uncaring as to whether or not she enjoyed the experience. Which, with Neville, she most certainly had not.
‘Do not think of the past, love.’ Adam reached out to gently touch Elena’s cheek as he saw the shadows that had once more entered her eyes. ‘This is you and me. Adam and Elena. And there is no room for anyone else here, not between the two of us.’
Tears glittered in those blue-green depths. ‘Why are you being so kind to me?’
How could he not be kind to her? How could any man not wish to show kindness to this beautiful and entrancing woman? ‘Help me off with my shirt, love?’
Instead of continuing to sit beside him as she reached up to help him, as Adam had expected she would, Elena now stood up, causing her unfastened gown to fall to the carpet at her slippered feet, and leaving her clothed only in that revealing white chemise over her drawers, and delicate white stockings held in place at her thighs by white garters adorned with rosebuds.
Drawing Adam’s gaze unerringly to those other rosebuds now visible through the thin material of her chemise, full and delicious red berries that were clearly and temptingly outlined against that gauzy material.
Adam continued to gaze hungrily at those pouting red berries as Elena slowly raised his shirt up his chest and then over his head before discarding it completely, only looking up into her face as he heard her gasp softly. ‘What is it, love?’
‘You will think me silly.’ Her cheeks had flushed a fiery red, her eyes overbright.
‘I am currently sitting half-naked in the salon where I usually receive guests, and I will think you are the silly one?’ he teased huskily.
‘I am standing here half-naked in that very same salon,’ she came back ruefully. ‘And the reason for my shock was that you are very beautiful, Adam,’ she said shyly.
His own breath caught in his throat at her unaffected candidness, then he ceased to breathe altogether as those long and slender hands moved tentatively to the nakedness of his chest, fingers tracing a delicate and seductive path across the muscled width of his shoulders before moving down to touch the silky dark hair covering his chest. Adam let out a hoarse exclamation of pleasure as her fingernails rasped lightly across the flat nubbins hidden there. His arousal surged and leapt inside his breeches to the same rhythm as those caressing fingers, causing him to shift uncomfortably.
Elena flattened her fingers against those hardened nubbins. ‘Am I hurting you?’
‘Only with pleasure,’ Adam acknowledged throatily.
Her eyes widened. ‘You enjoy being touched?’
‘By you, yes, very much so.’ Adam reached up to slide the thin shoulder straps of her chemise down to her elbows, finally baring those breasts to the avidness of his heated gaze.
Surprisingly full breasts, considering the slenderness of her body. They were round and pert, and tipped with delectable rosy-red nipples that seemed to swell and deepen in colour the longer he continued to look at them hungrily.
‘May I?’ Adam moistened his lips in anticipation of the taste of those ripe berries as he slipped the straps down completely, allowing her chemise to fall down to her waist.
‘Please…!’ Elena stepped forwards to stand between his parted thighs, her bared breasts swinging temptingly close to his mouth.
Adam placed his hands on her hips to steady her as he leant forwards and gently kissed each rosy-red nipple, one after the other, before lingering to lave one engorged berry with his tongue, around and around, urged on by her softly keening cries. She reached out to cling to the bareness of his shoulders as he slowly, skilfully drew that sensitive nubbin fully into the heat of his mouth.
Elena’s knees threatened to fold completely and she knew she would have fallen, if Adam had not tightened his grip on her hips to hold her in place. Her throat arched, head thrown back. She became totally consumed with the pleasure he gave with his lips and tongue—ah, yes, his teeth!—as he laved and suckled and nibbled upon that engorged berry.
This was nothing like that terrible memory of her cousin’s touch, Adam’s causing her drawers to become wet with moisture, her folds there swollen and aching, and a throbbing between her thighs that she could not explain.
She whimpered as Adam ceased his ministrations to her breasts and turned his attention to its twin, no longer gentle as he drew deeply on that nubbin, his breathing laboured as he suckled hard and long until it grew bigger still, elongating as he rasped his tongue across the tip over and over again until Elena thought she might go mad with the pleasure. The ache inside her was now so great that it caused her to thrust her thighs forwards, her movements restless as she burned, ached, begged for a release from the torment, at the same time as she never wanted this pleasure to stop.
Her back arched as she leant into him, pleading, asking, needing—for what she did not know. She groaned in protest as Adam released her nipple with a loud popping sound, that berry red and moist as Elena looked down at him with dark and sultry blue-green eyes.
‘Part your legs, love,’ Adam encouraged throatily as he pushed her chemise up her thighs to her waist. ‘I want to touch you here, too,’ he breathed, looking at her long and deeply before once again slowly, deliberately, latching on to the engorged pout of her nipple. Her legs slowly parted, allowing his hand to seek out the slit in her drawers.
Elena felt his fingers part her silky curls to seek out her swollen folds, dipping those fingers into the moisture there before parting those folds and moving higher, circling, caressing, moistening her there but not quite touching the part of her that throbbed, ached for his touch. ‘Please, Adam…!’ She moved her thighs restlessly against those caressing fingers, seeking, wanting—‘Yesss!’ Elena cried out at the first touch of those fingers against that ache, fingers that now alternately stroked and circled that swollen and moistened nubbin to the same rhythm that he suckled deeply on her nipple. His free hand moved from her hip to cup her other breast, finger and thumb tweaking, pulling on that second nipple.
The triple assault upon her senses was too much. Too many different sensations at once. Too much pleasure. Too much, too much, too much—
That pleasure released, climaxed so suddenly, that it took Elena’s breath away as it rippled and surged, then exploded in a cascade of overwhelming sensations, the moisture rushing freely between her thighs, wetting Adam as he thrust one finger deep inside her even as he continued to stroke her into ecstasy.
On and on it went, as the tears coursed hotly, unknowingly, down Elena’s cheeks.
Chapter Eleven
‘We are not finished yet,’ Adam said as Elena, flushed and obviously self-conscious after her loss of control, turned her face away and would have moved out of his reach. Instead he continued to hold her lightly with one arm about her waist as he reached up to release the pins from her hair, so that he might admire those long silky dark curls as they cascaded down the length of her spine and fell softly about her flush
ed face. ‘You are a very beautiful woman, Elena…’
She moistened full and swollen lips, those blue-green eyes slightly unfocused from her recent climax. ‘I—thank you.’
Adam chuckled softly at the obvious absence of her usual calm and composure—he was feeling less than calm or composed himself! Nor had he had his fill of her beautiful body. ‘Come, lie here beside me, love,’ he encouraged as he turned with her in his arms to place her down gently upon the chaise.
His gaze darkened appreciatively at the totally wanton picture she presented as he sat back to look at her, those dark curls falling wildly about her shoulders and breasts, breasts swollen from his ministrations, the nipples tight red buds, becoming even more so as Adam’s gaze lingered there before moving down to the slenderness of her waist where her chemise was gathered.
‘These need to come off.’ He suited his actions to his words as he rolled both her chemise and her drawers down over her thighs and legs before discarding them completely, Elena now wearing only those white stockings held up by rosebud-adorned garters. ‘Please do not.’ Adam reached out to clasp Elena’s hand in his as she would have self-consciously covered the curls between her legs, dark and silky curls that He could see were slightly damp from her recent release. ‘Will you allow me to kiss you here?’ He allowed his fingers to tangle lightly with those silky dark curls as he raised his soft grey gaze to hers.
Elena’s eyes widened. Adam wished to—he wanted to place his mouth against her there?
She had not known what to expect from Adam’s lovemaking, her past experience with Neville—both painful and terrifying, and one she had tried in vain to erase from her memory—having in no way prepared her for the pleasure she had just known. He had been so gentle with her, so careful not to hurt her, as he showed her that lovemaking could be a pleasurable and caring experience. With him, at least.
Even so, could she—dare she—allow him to kiss her there, to feel those sensual lips against her most intimate place?
Not Just a Governess Page 12