Her Rebellious Prince (Scandalous Family--The Victorians Book 2)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “I am not decorative?” Elise breathed.

  “You are intelligent! Accomplished! Your mind is a layered thing I could spend the rest of my life exploring!” he ground out. He squeezed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Instead of slaking myself upon you, I keep imagining what it would be like to make you understand the power of lust. To teach you.” He closed his eyes. “The lure of that possibility is more potent than any drug,” he finished heavily.

  Elise gripped her hands together to hide their trembling. All of her trembled. She had never heard such words before—not spoken by a man, directly to her, about her. That it was Danyal speaking them made their impact upon her heart and mind so much stronger.

  “Only…I cannot do any of those things,” he added.

  Something sank inside her. Elise had to press her lips together to stop herself from protesting, for it was merely what they had agreed upon.

  “There is no future in it,” Danyal added, echoing her thoughts.

  “With the many women you have known, was there a future possible for all of them?” Elise asked. Her voice was strained.

  Danyal’s gaze met hers. In the little moonlight which filtered through the lace curtain and the small lamp on the table beside him, putting out its tiny circle of orange light, his eyes glittered silver and black. “If there had been, I was ignorant of it.” He leaned forward, his fingers woven together tightly, as if he disciplined himself not to reach out or otherwise move them. “I cared only about their company for the night ahead. You, Elise…you are different.”

  The ache returned to her heart. “You are toying with me. These are things you might say to any other woman, to have your way with them.”

  Danyal’s smile was but a glimmer. His eyes grew hotter. “If I toyed with you to have my way, I would do this.” He didn’t rise from his chair but instead lunged forward, his palm planted upon the table for support, and kissed her.

  Elise’s surprise was almost instantly smothered by the pleasure of the kiss. There had been so few kisses and she could recall them all. This one was as sweet as any of the others, yet it was just as different.

  Danyal’s big fingers slid under her loose hair and his hand cupped her cheek, to hold her head steady as his kiss deepened. His tongue touched her lips, seeking entry, as his thumb stroked her cheek.

  When she parted her lips—which she was helpless to prevent, it seemed—his tongue swept in to stroke hers.

  She was not aware of his hand sliding down her throat, his fingers stroking her nape, until they tangled with the collar of her wrapper.

  The heel of his hand rested over her breast. If he slid it even a few inches further, he would claim it completely.

  Elise made the soft moaning sound she had made once before. She couldn’t help it. It pulled from her just at the thought of what his hand might do to her and how it would feel. There was no thought about the wickedness of what they were doing. It felt completely right and proper. Inevitable.

  Danyal grew still.

  When had they risen to their feet?

  Elise blinked. She could not recall standing, or his arm coming around her, yet they were pressed tightly together.

  Even Danyal breathed deeply. His black eyes were depthless as he studied her face.

  Then his arm loosened. He was about to release her and return to his seat, his demonstration done.

  Elise had no idea where the compulsion came from. She knew nothing except that she could not bear to end this moment. She reached up and gripped the lapels of his dressing gown, anchoring him right where he was with his heated body against hers. “No!” she breathed.

  “Elise…” he began, his hands reaching to detach hers.

  She kissed him, rising up on her toes to press her mouth against his. She did not know where the daring came from, but she touched her tongue to his lips to seek entry, just as he had done with her.

  And for a tiny moment, she felt his lips part and pleasure thrilled through her.

  Then he took her face in his hands and eased her away from his mouth by the merest fraction. He rested his forehead against hers. “No, Elise. To continue would take you to a place to which you do not wish to travel.”

  “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “I wish it with all my heart and soul.” She realized she was holding herself up by the grip she had upon his gown, for her legs were weak with her own daring. There was fear in her breast, too. Fear that if she did not do this, then he would leave, and this moment would be the end of everything. “I do not want you to go, Danyal. Not yet. I cannot bear the idea of not…not seeing you again. If you stay, just for a while, then I will have the strength to let you go, afterwards.”

  “You do not know what you are inviting,” he ground out.

  “I do,” she refuted him. “At least…the principal of the thing,” she admitted. “Show me, Danyal. Just this one night. Afterwards, we can go our own ways, as we have always agreed we must.”

  “I would not be the man to ruin you.”

  “It isn’t ruin, not if we both agree to this. Just this one night. Please, Danyal…”

  Her simple plea overcame his reluctance. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Her mind screamed with petty fear at what she had invited, now that he had agreed, for it was true she would forever after be a fallen woman. Yet there was a thrilling anticipation in her heart which outweighed the doubt. The heat of that wanting told her this was the right decision.

  Danyal laid her upon the bed and removed his gown, his gaze upon her. He did not ask her again if she was sure of her decision. He had learned that much about her, at least.

  Then he sat beside her. His eyes were obsidian black as he bent over her and stroked wisps of her hair from her face. “It is most strange. There is an artistry to this—peaks of creativity and uniqueness that the very practiced can bring to it, yet I find all I wish right now is the simplest joy.”

  And he kissed her.

  Elise wound her arms around his neck, as the kiss deepened and lingered. As he kissed her, Danyal stretched upon the bed beside her. He was a heavy, solid form which inflamed her flank where their bodies touched.

  When his knee slipped between her limbs, she shuddered, for the thrust of his thigh between hers was suggestive, making her entire body throb and her breath to shorten.

  Danyal raised his head to consider her, his hand resting on her torso, beneath her breast—and far too close to it for her breath to subside. “No corset…” he breathed.

  Her cheeks flamed and he smiled at her reaction. “You are a refreshing glass of purest spring water to this jaded palate of mine.” He kissed her briefly and picked up her hand and rested it against his chest. “Touch where you will, how you want. There is no wrong way.”

  Encouraged, Elise let her fingers explore as she had longed to do since he had stepped into the room in a simple dressing gown. He wore no waistcoat, only the soft white linen shirt, which was barely a barrier. She felt heat and pliant flesh beneath and ran her fingers down over his chest and down to his belly, which flexed beneath her fingers.

  She did not dare reach further.

  Danyal stole all her attention by trailing his lips over her chin and sliding them down her throat. His hair brushed her jaw and his hand moved ahead of his lips, as he untied her wrapper and slid the four buttons free. The silk and velvet wrapper fell to either side of her body, exposing her nightgown and her bare body beneath.

  Elise could feel her cheeks flaming with modesty, which was a useless virtue at this moment. She pushed her diffidence aside and shrugged out of the arms of the wrapper. Then she copied Danyal; she slid the buttons on his shirt undone, moving down the length of the shirt until she reached his trousers. With a daring that surprised her, she pulled the shirt from his trousers and released the last two buttons.

  The lower side of the shirt fell against her, exposing not undershirt but bare flesh. It was tanned and smooth and rounded over muscles flexed and stretc
hed as she studied them.

  Her hand moved on its own and rested against the heated flesh. Her fingers and palm tingled at the touch.

  Danyal drew a sharp breath. “Your hand…it is warmer than me.”

  “Is that bad?” she whispered, lifting her hand away.

  “Only in that it distracts me from what I might be doing to you.” He bent to press his lips against the sliver of flesh which showed between the opening in her night gown. She had failed to fasten the buttons…or had he unfastened them while she had been distracted by the sensations of his flesh against her hand?

  She wanted to touch his bare skin once more.

  Then Danyal smoothed his hand over her knee, with no nightgown between his touch and her flesh. All her thoughts scattered. She drew in a breath as sharp as his, and it caught in her throat. Her skin over her knee sizzled at his touch.

  His thumb stroked the soft skin inside her knee. Little tines of delight ran up her thigh. The core of her pulsed in answer.

  Her knee fell open without any decision by her, as Danyal’s hand curved over the front of her thigh. The heel of his hand swept along the flesh and lifted, so that his fingers took its place.

  Then he spent long minutes just stroking her thigh, moving up and down and over the most sensitive inner flesh, until she trembled violently and all thoughts but one had scattered. She longed for his hand to move higher, although what he might do to her if he did, she did not know for sure.

  Danyal instead let his hand drift over to her other leg.

  Elise gave a shuddering moan of disappointment and his gaze met hers. Was he laughing at her?

  “You’re…why, you are teasing me!” she breathed, her voice as shaky as her body.

  “Of course. Teasing is one of the great delights of lovemaking, at least in the beginning.” His fingers slid up the length of her thigh, to halt before he reached her hip, or her heated mound.

  She hissed, shuddering, as he moved to her other thigh.

  “The possibilities of what I might do next, where my fingers might travel…those possibilities are just as intoxicating as what my fingers really do,” he added. “I might–” and he slid his hand all the way down to her knee, to brush against the too-sensitive insides, making her shiver again.

  “Or–” His fingers moved up her thigh, up higher than they had ever been before, to stroke the line from her hip to the center of her.

  The sensuousness of that touch brought a soft cry to her lips. Her hips lifted, thrusting, and her back arched. She felt empty, down there, and heated, too.

  “Mmm…” Danyal breathed, then shocked her all over again by flipping back her gown and running his tongue along the same line.

  Elise clutched at his head, too caught by the pleasure to feel any embarrassment about her exposure. She only wanted the lovely sensations to continue. Her hips kept lifting. It felt almost as though she was offering an invitation to him with each involuntary rise. She could hear herself breathing swift and hard.

  Then Danyal lifted himself up and fastened his mouth upon her breast—right through the thin nightgown. His tongue teased the center, sending delicious bolts of pleasure from her breast to the heated nub of her.

  Elise closed her eyes, lost in the pleasure. Drunk upon it. It was far better than anything she had ever imagined. Yet the pleasure was increasing, too. She could feel the explosive potential of it, deep inside her, waiting to be drawn forth.

  Danyal lifted his head away from her, stripped his shirt away and tossed it upon the bed frame at the end of the bed. He continued his disrobing, while Elise held her breath. His hands fell to the band of his trousers and he swiftly unfastened the buttons there. All the while, his gaze remained on her face.

  The trousers fell open and he pushed them down his hips, taking the underdrawers with them. Without a skerrick of self-consciousness, he turned and dropped the garments over the end of the bed where his shirt hung.

  He turned back to her, his skim gleaming in the lamplight, the soft mounds and planes highlighted, making Elise want to run her fingers over the flesh and explore.

  Why could she not use her mouth as Danyal had done? Her body tingled at the thought.

  Then her gaze drifted lower, as Danyal settled on the bed once more. The jut of proud flesh between his thighs was not at all how she imagined a man might look. Her guess had been formed by viewing statues in museums and art galleries which had not hidden the essential parts beneath fig leaves or conveniently draped folds of cloth and other modesty-preserving devices.

  Unlike the cold marble examples she had studied, Danyal’s shaft was a thick, beating member, standing upright, with a flaring head which was darker than the rest of him.

  Elise could not tear her gaze away from him.

  Then Danyal pulled her nightgown over her head and discarded that garment, too. Her breasts were tight buds at the tips, sharp not with cold, but with lust.

  Danyal cupped a breast, his gaze a furnace of lust, then sucked the tip into his mouth and nipped at it with his teeth.

  The delight tore through her, making her throat strain as she arched and rolled her head back. She was utterly naked and didn’t give a damn. She barely cared that her thighs moved restlessly, falling open invitingly.

  When Danyal’s hand pressed up against those exposed inner folds, she only just smothered the cry she made at the perfect pleasure of his touch. While his mouth teased and tugged at her breast, his fingers slipped between her flesh and pressed deeper and deeper.

  Oh, it was so good, so very good…

  His thumb pushed up against her nub and stroked.

  Elise moaned, her trembling building to a shuddering, as he stroked and teased the tiny organ, his fingers still deep inside her, his mouth still against her breast.

  The pleasure built and built. It gathered inside her, building power, rising in intensity, until she was deaf and blind to anything but the crackling lust melting her limbs and making her innards clench and squeeze.

  Then the pleasure crested in a hard, heart-stopping peak. It tore at her. Tore through her, making every nerve shriek and her breathing to halt for long, endless moments.

  It released her just for a moment, then another equally as intense wave locked her into a pleasurable spasm. Elise’s body seemed to collapse from the inside out. She melted, as the pleasure only slowly subsided.

  Danyal looked pleased with himself as he settled over her, his hips against hers.

  Elsie recognized the moment from the indirect references of the books she had consulted, years ago.

  Danyal slid his hand under her knee and lifted it, while he propped himself over her, his arm tensed to hold his full weight away from her. His brow carried fine lines—not of pain, but of barely controlled lust, she realized.

  His shaft pressed up against her, seeking entry.

  For the first time, she felt a touch of fear.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. “Watch my face.”

  Elise lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were heated with lust, but there was warmth there, too. “I won’t hurt you,” he murmured.

  “I know,” she breathed and let herself relax, for she believed him utterly.

  His shaft pressed even deeper inside her, following the route his fingers had taken.

  Her nub gave out a little throb in anticipation. She could feel her flesh was moist and slippery, for Danyal eased inside her without troubles, spreading her open, filling her.

  Then he paused. Perspiration gleamed at his temples as his throat worked and his chest rose and fell. Elise sensed he was holding himself back, controlling urges she barely understood, so she would not be hurt, as promised.

  Danyal nudged a fraction deeper. This time, she felt something give. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel as though something tore or was pulled free. Then Danyal pressed even deeper inside her.

  Elise realized that this was how a maiden was ruined. She was no longer untouched.

  Danyal gave a soft, deep sound that might h
ave been a groan and released her knee. His hips pushed up against her, making her nub throb once more.

  Then his shaft withdrew…and pushed back into her.

  Elise instinctively recognized the action. She had lived her entire life upon a farm which supplied indirect references, but this was much, much different. Her whole body thrummed with the rightness of it. Her breath came raggedly as the delightful peak of sensations once more seemed to build in her middle, as Danyal worked over her…and in her. She found herself clutching at him, even encouraging him, as the pleasure grew.

  Danyal thrust slowly and carefully at first and she knew he was being considerate of her innocence, but as she writhed beneath him, his movements grew wilder, more abrupt. Deeper. Which only seemed to increase her enjoyment.

  He thrust heavily, his breath halting and his eyes closing. He groaned, a sound so deep and harsh it seemed to pull from his very core. He grew still—yet she could feel him tremble as he savored the moment.

  Still breathing hard, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. His mouth lifted at the corners and he bent his head to touch his lips to hers. “That was as glorious as I presumed it would be,” he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek.

  He withdrew from her and settled beside her. His hand rested on her belly, his fingers moving softly, as if he was unable to not touch her.

  Elise drew in a deeper breath. “I had not realized how…how wonderful it could be,” she whispered. She shifted onto one hip so she could lay her hand against his broad chest once more. “May we…could we do it again?”

  Danyal gave a soft chuckle. “As many times as you wish, my sweet Elise.” His amusement faded. “Until dawn, that is,” he added softly.

  She nodded. “Then you must return to your room, before anyone discovers us.” Then she gave a soft laugh. “I sound just like all the wicked temptresses in every penny opera ever written!”

  Danyal plucked her hand from his chest and kissed the knuckles. “That was not at all my meaning,” he told her. “Elise…”