His male member.
She rubbed her inner thigh against it, and he groaned, the rumble running up her breastbone, sparking fire racing throughher veins. Cassian’s mouth was a seal around her, the pulling force of his tongue as turbulent as a whirlpool.
The need in her burned and raged, growing unbearable. Delirious with chasing the bliss that kept flittering out of reach, she rocked against the hard trunk of his thigh, gasping at the blissful friction.
Anotherhard pull, a flicker of his thumb—and she gasped as the fire inside exploded, showering her with bliss.
Cassian pulled away, “Did you just come, sweetling?” He sounded both surprised and smug at her faint nod. “Only from me kissing your breasts?”
“Yes, you smug wiseacre,” she breathed raggedly, her chest heaving. “I am stunned at what your tongue can do.”
Cassian slanted his lips across hers and kissed her softly. “If you’re stunned at me kissing your breasts, you will most certainly collapse when I kiss yousomewhere else.”
Despite her pleasant exhaustion, she felt a tightness in her belly. “I don’t know if I should be afraid or anticipate that…”
He laughed while flopping on his back. “You are staying with me tonight.”
“It’s the middle of the day,” she reminded, albeit sleepily.
“Yes,” Cassian replied, sitting up to pull her with him. Quickly, he divested her entirely of her blouse and skirts, leaving her in her chemise. Lying back again, he wrapped an arm around her middle. “Be irreverent with me.”
Despite her reservations, Cecilia settled into his hold and dropped her head on his shoulder. She fell asleep, not entirely from the lingering bliss and pleasure in her body, but from the warmth of Cassian’s arms around her and the comfort of his body to protect hers.
Watching her sleep now, her lashes dark fans against her rosy cheeks, Cassian felt the same streak of possessiveness he’d felt when reading the lies Whitmore was spreading about her. She looked so sweetly feminine and small curled up on his bed, her lips parted just so.
She was so delicate, pure, witty, and held a wry sense of humor. He also loved to see her feminine passion unfurling like a budding flower. Easing away from her and making sure he didn’t disturb her, he shrugged his robe on and left to attend to the mound of letters he had been avoiding.
After rifling through the letters, he found one from Whitmore’s solicitor and, humored, he opened it. As he expected, the coward was threatening legal action.
Halfway through the unsupported drivel, Cassian folded it and slapped it under a book, utterly unimpressed and faintly amused.
He reached for paper and pen, and quickly wrote out an order to his man-of-business to start collecting Whitmore’s debts,en masse.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” Andrews knocked softly. “I want to remind you about the dinner party of Lord—”
“Rainsville,” Cassian groaned while rolling his neck. “I’d forgotten about that. It is tonight?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Andrews nodded. “I have your suit ready when you call for it.”
Sighing, he pushed from the table and handed the letter to Andrews with the order to have it sent out immediately. “I’ll have to go wake Cecilia.”
“I will send her maid—”
“No,” Cassian stopped him with a wave as he headed to the door. “She is in my room.” The moment he rested his hand on the latch, he felt his butler’s eyes needling in the back of his neck. The look, however, was not judging but felt light.
He pivoted to meet the old man’s eyes and narrowed his. “What?”
“Nothing,” Andrews’ stoic face did not budge, but the approving glimmer in his eyes made Cassian want to simultaneously sigh and laugh.
“Old codger,” he murmured without any heat behind it. “Just have the carriage ready.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Andrews nodded.
CHAPTER 18
While holding tight on Cassian’s arm, Cecilia spared a glance at the subtle, luxurious décor of the marble-floored entrance hall. They were led through an inner hall with an elegant double staircase and thence to the saloon, a splendid room that matched the foyer.
“Do you know who is attending?” She kept her voice low and a smile fixed on her face.
