“Reading my thoughts,” she sputtered.
“Ah.” A wry smile appeared across the full lips. “Thank goodness. I thought you wished me to cease in my seduction of your person.”
“Seduction?” She nearly choked on the word.
“And that…won't do at all.” Grabbing her wrists in one fluid move, he pulled her arms over her head and pinned her against the trellis, effectively trapping her with his larger form.
He smelled of the cheroot, the sea and powerful male. As much as she objected to his pinning of her wrists, the sensation of being held captive by Nick Shepherd was not displeasing. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
"Your impropriety towards me is unseemly.” She pushed up at him, and her voice caught at the sensation of her breasts against his coat. “Release me now or I shall scream for help.” Her tongue tripped over the words.
“So determined to be waspish. Shush.” His mouth descended over hers.
Jemma did not realize until that very moment, that there was a distinct difference between the barely amorous press of lips from aboyand being kissed, really kissed, by aman.This was no prim peck, no courtly gesture of affection. No kiss she would willingly break from. She sagged, her body giving in to the feeling of his lips on hers.
Nick transferred both her wrists to one large hand, freeing his other hand to roam, unhindered, across the tops of her breasts. His finger dipped into the valley between them as if searching for something.
“I am an admirer of your bosom. Small and delightfully shaped, fitting perfectly.” He cupped a breast. “You bind them? When you wander about in breeches?”
“Sometimes,” Jemma panted, lightheaded from his kiss. She could not allow him any further liberties. What if someone came out? Dear God, what if Augie found her pinned to the trellis by Nick Shepherd? She moved her body to slip away. Futile as the gesture only served to bring her already sensitive body in touch with the hardness that was Nick Shepherd.
“Stop,” he said against her mouth, his tongue lingering at the corner of her lips. “You do not really wish to get away.”
And she didn't. Not really. She wanted to experience what he offered. Her body gave a deep sigh, recognizing the truth of his words. Jemma's legs fell open of their own accord, wantonly, spreading open to him beneath her skirts. She thought perhaps this was a dream.
He wedged his body between her legs, nudging the apex between her thighs. Jemma's breath caught in her throat. She moaned softly, submitting to him, her mind going blank to anything except the man before her.
He nipped her lips gently. “Open to me, Jem.”
Obediently, she opened her mouth, feeling the tip of his tongue touch her lips first, then twine around her own tongue.
He pulled away to nip softly at the nape of her neck. “Kiss me back.”
She complied, shyly pressing her lips to his, fitting her body to his larger form.
Carefully, he tugged at the edging of brilliants and lace at her bodice until the small mound of one breast popped free. He murmured something against her neck while his thumb found her nipple and brushed against the sensitive tip.
Jemma moaned softly and struggled to push herself closer as he toyed with her nipple, pinching and circling it with his thumb and forefinger, kissing her deeply.
Abruptly his mouth left hers.
“No, don’t—” she gasped as the wet heat of his mouth descended over the peak of her nipple. Waves of sensation rolled from her nipple, down her breasts and stomach to center between her thighs.
Dear God. This is why women allow themselves to be ruined.This is why they keep young girls away from men like Nick Shepherd, otherwise we would line up in droves to offer him our virtue.
He nibbled, making his way slowly around her engorged nipple. He suckled leisurely, licking around the areola. Releasing her wrists, he sighed in satisfaction. “I told you that you did not really wish to get away.”
Her hands reached up to touch his shoulders, feeling the press of his muscles against her palms, the silkiness of his dark hair as it touched her fingertips. A pressure built between her legs—painful and needful. She wanted something but didn’t know what it was or how to ask for it. The heat of Nick seeped through her skirts, winding around the aching apex between her thighs. She wished desperately for him to touch her.There.
His knee pressed into her skirts and the ache intensified.
“In time,” he whispered, pulling his mouth from her throbbing breast. Peering down into her face, he took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to her erect nipple before carefully pulling up her bodice.
The enormity of what had just passed between them, the liberties she’d allowed this man, a virtual stranger, shocked her to her core. "Are you a witch then, that you can read my thoughts, cause me to behave in such a way?"
A coldness descended suddenly, as if someone thrust a block of ice between them, and Jemma sensed she'd offended him in some way.
“Perhaps.” He adjusted her bodice, laying the lace back, minding the brilliants that dotted the edging. He did so efficiently as if he'd had much practice. Which, she thought with alarm, he likely had.
