Private Passions

by Felicia Greene

  ‘Your father is very rude.’

  ‘My father saved the life of Lady Mimsmere’s husband, long ago. A riding accident that could have been fatal.’ Lavinia shrugged. ‘At this point, after years of forced acquaintance, Lord Mimsmere probably wishes it had been. I certainly wish one of them hadn’t survived.’

  ‘That’s quite a statement to make.’

  ‘You haven’t lived with him. And it’s rich to criticise my speech, as you stand in someone’s house under false pretences.’ Lavinia smiled. ‘None of the street boys will talk about you. Lord knows what tales you’ve spun them. But I can read old newspapers as well as anyone—even the dullest of society reports. And I’m no expert in Ethiopian royalty, but I sincerely doubt the crown prince of Ethiopia has so little to do in his own country that he spends nearly the entirety of the London season in ours. Drinking like a fish, holding forth on any number of subjects, and bedding any number of ladies—if the euphemisms are to be believed.’

  ‘Oh, I’d believe them.’ Robert moved closer. ‘Although I wouldn’t dwell on that part. I’m certainly not—not now that I’ve met you.’

  Lavinia rolled her eyes. ‘How desperately original.’

  ‘Yes. That was somewhat inelegant, wasn’t it? It must be nerves. Let’s simply walk away from one another, here and now, exchanging nothing more than politely bored looks for the rest of the evening.’ Robert tried to say it as casually as possible, aware that he wasn’t succeeding. ‘I could leave you here, surrounded by paper, and you could write one of your elegant little viper bites about someone. In company like yours, you certainly won’t lack for material.’

  ‘Fine. You may as well go. Leave the leopard-skin with the butler—they’ll need new rags to polish the floors. I can feign a headache and return to my desk, preferably with a plate of tea and toast.’

  ‘I’ll have you know this pelt graced the king of the savannah. Or else someone’s played a pretty trick with a cow hide and a paint brush.’ Robert smiled. ‘And it’s rather good that we know all about one another, isn’t it? Saves time, at any rate. Just think of all the awkwardness we’ve simply skipped.’

  ‘But you were going to simply walk away, sir. Would it really be so easy for you? Lavinia folded her arms, her arched eyebrow bringing a surfeit of explicit thoughts to Robert’s mind. ‘Our meeting, our discoveries. Our… acquaintance. You could throw them away, just like that?’

  Yes. Robert ached to say it. It would be the best thing to say; the most convenient, certainly. He didn’t want Miss Lavinia Dent to mean anything at all to him—especially as danger circled, nipping at his heels, the longer he stayed here…

  … But God, she was exquisite. Fiery and furious and lovely, utterly lovely; lovely in a way that softened his heart and stiffened his cock in mutual, infuriating tandem. Lavinia Dent was unique, splendid, glittering like ice with fire at its heart—and she was right in front of him, in a gown spun seemingly of thistledown and starlight, daring him to walk away.

  He couldn’t walk away. What he could do, with a burst of energy he knew came from two nights of unrequited lust, was take Lavinia Dent in his arms with a sigh of pure lust. ‘I think it’s clear that I can’t.’

  ‘I knew it.’ Her soft, triumphant murmur was music to Robert’s ears as she slid her arms around his neck. ‘Someone rather likes trouble, doesn’t he? Lets it order him about, in fact.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Robert whispered in her ear, his body alive to the warm, pink scent of her. How like her, to have flowers clinging to her skin. ‘Maybe it depends on what trouble can do for me. Especially since it promised me untold delights, the last time I saw it.’

  ‘Oh, I think not, prince of the realm who sneaks through bedroom windows.’ Lavinia’s sweet, sarcastic laughter sent a spark of want through Robert’s core. ‘Don’t try to tell me you have the upper hand here.’

  ‘I would never dream of it, fine lady with the poison pen.’ Robert let his lips rest briefly against her neck, a shiver running through him as she gasped. ‘I won’t tell you… but I will show you.’

  Ignoring Lavinia’s small gasp of surprise, he gently pushed her backward. As she braced herself against the wall, Robert wrapped his arms around her waist with a barely restrained thrill of pure possession.

  Yes, he liked trouble. At this point, in this position, he like trouble very, very much.

  Kissing had been something of a minor pleasure for him before—a single note in the symphony, as it were. But with Lavinia Dent, just as it had been before, kissing seemed infinitely more than the sum of its parts. An intimate, sensual battle; a competition to see who could give the most pleasure to who, in the least amount of time.

  It should have been unsettling—worrying, even—how familiar it felt, despite the newness. How it felt like coming home. But Robert, to his shock, found that he didn’t mind it at all.

  In fact, he preferred it. He enjoyed the feeling of rediscovery as his tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, her lips flushed and rosy against his. It was as if they’d already shared a thousand kisses, each one building rather than dampening the fire that lay between them.

  He held back a cry as Lavinia’s hand rested boldly against his upper thigh. Perhaps not everything was completely familiar.

  ‘All you’ve shown me is that you put yourself in dangerous situations, Mr. Prince.’ Lavinia’s voice, husky with passion, sang along Robert’s nerves as her hand moved closer to his cock. ‘You’re in great danger now, aren’t you?’

  Oh, yes. I’m in great danger of kneeling down and kissing your feet, you glorious creature. All Robert could do was nod mutely, trembling as Lavinia’s exploratory fingers hit their mark. She slowly squeezed his shaft, the fabric separating her skin from his suddenly whisper-thin. Kissing your feet, up to your thighs, all the way to your—

  ‘Coming here, bold as brass, in a disguise that’s failed you at least once.’ Lavinia’s fingers flickered against him, her voice a brazen purr. ‘That’s throwing yourself into the lion’s mouth, and no mistake… so why did you do it? An absurd excess of courage?’

  Robert knew this game. Knew it all too well, in fact. One was meant to dance around one’s feelings, denying, dismissing, treating everything as the mildest of jokes. They weren’t meant to be here, doing this, after all—any gentleman of quality would treat it as lightly as Lavinia was; a thrill of the moment, a trick of the light.

  But damn it, he wasn’t a gentleman. He wasn’t going to play games, even if she were clearly more comfortable doing so. As a professional swindler, he knew when something was truly valuable… and when he looked at Lavinia Dent, when he heard her voice, he knew gold was nothing at all. Not compared to her.

  It was terrifying. He was terrified. And he was damned if he was going to suffer it alone.

  Gently pulling back, looking into her eyes, he swallowed. Still, as he spoke, he was unaccountably dry-mouthed.

  ‘I came for you, Miss Dent. My name is Robert Prince, and I came for you. I came because I wanted to see you again, and speak to you again, and kiss you again if at all possible. You wanted me to admit this—I do it freely. I lay my weakness at your feet.’ He looked down, fighting the unexpected swell of feeling that assailed him. ‘And unless you admit your own weakness—unless you admit that something more than mere curiosity brought you to this room—then I really will have to walk away. Without looking back.’

  He looked at Lavinia for a full breath, unperturbed by the fire in her eyes. There was something there, behind the whip-crack wit and bluster; a vulnerability. Something he’d seen in her bedroom, the day of that first kiss… the hidden, shining thing that had brought him here.

  But she wasn’t showing it. She was silent, staring, determined not to break. Not to admit anything.

  With a sigh that he couldn’t conceal, much as he wanted to, Robert took another step back. He’d been refused before, of course—what heart-breaker hadn’t—but not after opening his heart so boldly. Not with that glimmer of connecti
on; a thread that he still felt tugging at his core, tying him to her…

  ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you.’

  Her whisper stopped Robert in his tracks. He turned, looking at her trembling frame, almost not believing what he’d heard.

  ‘I haven’t been able to write a word. You’ve been horribly distracting, and I feel as if—I feel as if I might die, crumble to pieces, if I don’t see you, and it’s ridiculous, and I don’t know you, and—and I want to—well I hope you can imagine the things I want to do, because I’m not going to say them.’ Lavinia lifted her head, her defiant chin belying the tremor in her voice. ‘You have weakness, sir, I have ruin. Ruin, right here, at your feet.’ She smiled, a cold curl to her lip, but Robert saw the panic in her eyes. ‘I hate ruin, sir. I hate it because I know it, and have inflicted it on others. So if my own, personal, sentimental debasement does not satisfy, there is very little else I give you.’

  Robert went to her, pulling her to him, stroking her pinned curls as she clung to him. Her scent assailed him; roses, blooming in the dark.‘Is that what I am to you? Ruin? Debasement?’

  ‘No.’ She pulled away, her eyes narrowed. ‘My feelings, my need—they are my own, private ruin. You have very little to do with it.’

  Robert almost laughed. ‘Then we are where we were before, Miss Dent. Let me walk away.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘And why?’

  ‘I told you.’ A tear hovered at the corner of her eye. ‘I’ll die if you do.’

  Enough talk—enough words. The idea that he’d made her cry even a single tear was enough to make Robert’s stomach turn. Drawing her gently back into his arms, he kissed her closed eyelids as she sighed against him.

  ‘You came for me, and now I’m here. All of me.’ She bit her lip, eyes still closed. ‘And so?’

  ‘And so, what a wonderful coincidence.’ Robert kissed her, gently grazing his teeth against her bottom lip. ‘Now all of you is here, all of me is here too.’

  All of me. Lavinia had never allowed all of herself to appear in company. No other human soul had known more than she allowed them to know… and now Robert Prince, the swindler with the charming smile, had managed to coax out all of her. The weakness, the vulnerability, that she kept jealously concealed.

  She knew she should feel threatened. Humiliated. But all she felt, all that coursed through her body, was a hunger that rose like a wave. The same hunger that had left her defenceless in her bedroom, standing in front of him and asking to be kissed.

  She didn’t just want to be kissed. She wanted to be held by him, tight and safe and protected from the world… and her hands, her mouth, her body, wanted even more than that.

  How had he found her? She found, to her shock, that she didn’t much care. His arms were around her, and that was all that mattered. However bold she was, in speech or action, he persisted in looking at her as if she were a queen.

  All her life, she had never been enough. Robert Prince looked at her like she was everything.

  ‘Now that all of you is here… let me see a little of that boldness.’ Robert’s hand covered hers, placing it with gentle but definite firmness back where she’d impetuously put it previously. ‘More specifically, this boldness. Such courage is rare.’

  ‘I would call it curiosity, not courage. Curiosity, or…’ Lavinia swallowed, her heart fluttering as Robert’s lips landed gently on her neck. ‘Or craving.’

  ‘Craving is good. Follow that.’ Robert bit his lip as Lavinia squeezed, unsure of how much pressure she should exert. ‘I am in your hands. Use them.’

  ‘And I am in your hands. So…’ Lavinia struggled to phrase what she wanted. ‘So…’

  ‘So walk away, because we’re both clearly mad to be here? So familiar, so tightly bound, despite our lack of formal acquaintance?’ Robert’s tone was humorous, but Lavinia felt the seriousness within them. ‘I… I do hope not.’

  Walking away? Lavinia almost shuddered at the thought; there was a visceral horror to it. ‘No. Absolutely not. As I said, I am in your hands… and if I must use mine…’

  ‘Say it.’ Robert smiled. ‘Command me.’

  ‘Use yours.’ Lavinia pulled him to her, kissing him, her desire leaping up to outweigh her reticence. ‘Please.’

  As if he had been waiting for her word, Robert’s hands moved to her body—hurried, silent, deliciously wicked in his impatient exploration. Lavinia gasped as his fingers crept over the neckline of her dress. She had been bold, so why did she feel such shock at his answering boldness?

  Perhaps it was the feel of it, she reasoned, half-overcome. The ripe, melting pleasure of it—which he had to be feeling too, under her touch. She tightened her hand around him again, experimentally, and was rewarded with a sigh of frustrated longing that kindled the sparks at her core. Yes. He was as excited as she was.

  She sighed harshly as Robert tugged the neckline of her dress downward, moving with teasing slowness as he brought his palms to her half-bared breasts. His hands were so warm against her chemise-covered skin; he covered her bared neck with kisses, sending raw, giddy thrills of sensation through her body as he made slow, sweet circles with his hands. Lavinia couldn’t help whimpering, her nipples hardening to stiff, swollen points against her thin linen underclothes, her thighs tensing as her core began to melt.

  She had never felt such strength of feeling outside her own bedroom. Shame burned in her, hot, corrosive—but pleasure tore it apart, mingling with her need to give her body a will of its own. She moved her hands to her bodice, struggling to undo the buttons, sighing with relief as it moved downward a crucial few inches. Now her breasts were fully in Robert’s hands, his thumbs tracing over her nipples, his mouth hot on her neck as his teeth grazed her skin. Tugging at her chemise, her mouth twisted in annoyance, Lavinia stilled as Robert’s hands covered hers again.

  ‘Let me. Let me do everything, Miss Dent.’ His voice made her name sound as intimate as a lover’s kiss. ‘You saved me, before… let me show you my gratitude.’

  Lavinia nodded weakly, waiting desperately for his hands to move back to her breasts. When she felt his fingers tight on her hips, bunching her skirts upward, she almost cried out with annoyance—only to abruptly stop as Robert lowered his head.

  Oh. It couldn’t be permissible, surely; his mouth on her breasts, skilfully bringing her swollen nipples to a state of feverish attention. Impermissible, but wonderful. She bit her lip, closing her eyes as she surrendered to the wave of feeling, achingly aware of the masterful heat of his tongue.

  This was ridiculous—but then, so was kissing a possibly dangerous criminal. A dangerous criminal whose hands were slowly sliding under her petticoats, teasing her bare flesh, coaxing her thighs to a point of exquisite tension as his fingers moved higher.

  She couldn’t help crying out as he softly stroked the curls at the meeting of her thighs. So private, so terribly private—but oh, how her core shivered as he touched her. The hunger in her begged for more; she opened her thighs, keeping his head to her breasts, murmuring her pleasure to him in a shy whisper.

  ‘Please.’ She bit her lip as his fingers parted her flesh, running along the slick, flushed line of pure sensation that sent shocks through every one of her nerves. ‘I… oh, yes.’ One finger moved deeper, stroking boldly at her entrance; Lavinia’s knees buckled as Robert’s teeth grazed her nipple. ‘Please. Yes.’

  It couldn’t get better than this. More pleasure was impossible—but Robert’s other hand was suddenly moving under her, pulling her upward, her feet dangling as he cradled her. Now she sat pressed against him, her thighs open to him, his fingers achingly close to the tight, needy bud that she had only ever explored with her own fingers. Just a single stroke upwards, and the avalanche she knew was building could be released.

  Robert wasn’t moving. It was as if he were waiting for her to beg him; plead with him. Lavinia pushed her hips forward, biting her lip in frustration as Robert moved his
head from her breasts.

  ‘You seem agitated.’ His smile was wicked. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘You know what’s wrong.’ Lavinia strained her hips again, fruitlessly. ‘You said you’d do everything, and you’re not. You’re—ah!—you’re being most unpleasant.’

  ‘You’re right. I am.’ Robert kissed the corner of her mouth, holding her effortlessly in place. ‘Show me how to be more pleasant.’

  ‘I…’ Lavinia writhed, irritated. ‘But you know what you need to do.’

  ‘Yes… but indulge me.’ Robert’s voice acquired a new note of honesty. ‘Show me how to give you pleasure. It’s all I want.’

  Lavinia took a deep breath, trying to fight her need—but oh, it was impossible. With a shaking hand she reached down to grip Robert’s wrist, moving his hand just a little further upward. ‘Here. Please. I—ah!’

  Her words were clearly all he’d been waiting for. Lavinia gasped as he moved back to her breasts, his fingers moving upward with the eagerness of a man desperate to see his lover come undone. His thumb stroked over her bud once, twice, quickly settling into a rhythm that had Lavinia gripping desperately at his neck, eyes shut, lost in the ferocious pleasure tearing through her.

  The state of heightened tension she’d been living with for the previous week only fuelled the fire inside her—a fire she could no longer control. Time, dignity, reason; all vanished in the endless, perfect moment of complete abandonment. She dimly heard herself crying out, her head thrown back against the wall as Robert’s lips covered hers, his mouth as unutterably gentle as his fingers were strong and sure.

  ‘Yes.’ She panted as liquid bliss flooded Robert’s palm, her body limp and quivering. Even as he gently set her down, covering her face and neck with kisses, she clung to him. ‘More.’

  ‘I would give you more, sweet, but there is no place fit for us here.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘And forgive me for my presumption, but a few minutes of recovery are generally needed.’