I will give up women as my hobby, will I? For you, Amelia – you make a hard bargain…
He felt like she was staking a claim to him. He had been claimed by many women in his adult life. All had learned the fallacy of that claim when he abandoned them to flit to the next pretty face, full bosom, or twinkling eye. But in this moment, he was prepared to let Amelia fasten chains of desire around him and draw them tight.
With a low growl of satisfaction, he swept her up into his arms. Her surprised gasp—a delighted squeak, really—sent a pulse of arousal through him that stole his reason. It thrilled him, that tiny sound. Proof that he could unravel her, that her pleasure was his doing.
He lowered them onto the divan, sitting with her astride him, her weight pressing down on the hardened length straining beneath his trousers. He grunted at the contact, the pleasure of it almost too much. Her kisses were fervent, each contact driving reason deeper into his mind, drowning it in desire and base instinct. Her mouth found his neck. He tilted his head back with a shudder, lips parting as she kissed down to the place that always made him weak.
As the massage of her hot lips against his coarse skin lingered, he whispered her name. It escaped his lips without beingconsciously uttered. He liked the way it sounded in lust. He wanted to say it again, until it became a sin, a prayer, a spell.
But then—stillness.
Her breath, quick and shallow, brushed his damp skin. He felt her go still, muscles tensing in his arms.
She lifted her head.
And he was utterly undone.
Her cheeks were flushed rose, and her eyes bright, heavily lidded with desire. Her lips glittered, and her bosom heaved. An angel, in all its divine perfection, could not have appeared more alluring in that moment.
She was beautiful. No, not beautiful—transcendent. And in that moment, Seth forgot every lie, every scheme, every reason he had for keeping his heart guarded.
“This is not right,” Amelia breathed, pushing against him.
For a moment, he held on, arms tightening instinctively, not wanting to release her. When her pushing became more urgent, he let her go. She stood and took a few quick steps across the room, smoothing her skirts and flicking her hair from her face.
“Why?” he croaked, almost flushing at his own desperation.
Amelia glanced around, turning as though searching for something she had lost.
“Just... we are not married, and... it is just... not right. It is wrong. We must not,” she babbled.
Seth frowned, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He tried to govern his desire for her, refusing to let it rule him.
She was desirable. Hedidwant to bed her. But there were more important priorities than that.
His freedom.
How long was left on the marriage clause? A month? No more than two, certainly. Two months at most to escape this last arranged betrothal and make it seem like it was not his fault.
“I do not regard it as wrong. We are betrothed and merely doing something that every betrothed couple do. At least those that are happy having a little fun.”
She gaped at him. “Well, then, I am happy to be someone who dislikesfun. We will not... dothisuntil we are married. That is what is decent and proper.”
She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Seth rose, grinning like a rogue. The smile that women who knew him expected to see. And thought they could resist.
“There, we disagree,” he murmured, inching closer to her, “I think that we are promised to each other, and it helps our future marriage to get to know our mutual needs and explore our... desires.”
He reached out to stroke her raven hair, but she stepped back quickly. Her reaction was precisely what he wanted, but he recognized the disappointment that lay deep down. It was irrational, but he also wanted to see his advances reciprocated and enjoyed. It would not serve his ultimate goal, but part of him didn’t care.
She is dangerous. If I am not careful, she will bewitch me, and I will not care when the shackles close about my ankles.
“I shall go and keep company with my Aunt Phyllis. I will see you at dinner,” Amelia burst and practically dashed from the room.
A woman trying as hard as I not to give in to lust. But why?
Was it Puritanical morality? Or something else?
Seth shook his head, walking through the hallway and then into his own chambers. With a bellpull, he summoned Blythe, his butler, sitting before the fire in his bedchamber as he waited. Blythe appeared momentarily.
