Words failed him. He responded with a feral growl and closed the distance between them with a single step, yanking the nightgown from her hands and casting it aside. Then, he seized her, pulling her to him and smothering her mouth with a ferocious kiss.
There was something in it beyond passion and beyond need. His mouth was open on hers, his tongue questing along the seam in her closed lips. She refused to open them for him, angry that he could forget the kindnesses of a few hours past and return to his old ways the first time she disappointed him.
His hands squeezed her bare bottom to elicit a gasp that gave him free access to her mouth. He thrust his tongue into it, retreated and repeated. It moved in her mouth, a low commanding pulse, as if he could reset the beating of her heart to the rhythm of his choosing.
He broke away, messaging the flesh beneath his hands in the same slow tempo. ‘I am an insufferable prig named Frederick. Say my name. You say it often enough when we are in public and you do not have to mean it.’
Of course she meant it. It was as if he was claiming that she did not know how a noun worked, which was utter nonsense.
‘Say it,’ he repeated, and moved a hand between them to squeeze one of her bare breasts.
‘Frederick,’ she gasped, surprised at the longing in her own voice.
‘Georgiana,’ he answered, as if speaking her name was some kind of reward. The slow massage continued, one hand pinching her nipple, the other rocking her hips against the wool of his breeches, moulding them to the hard bulge pulsing behind the flap. ‘You commented before on the paintings decorating the walls of Vitium et Virtus. How closely did you look at them?’
She shook her head, afraid to admit or deny lest he decide to punish her by sending her back to the house alone.
‘It does not matter. I will explain them to you, now.’ His voice was low, silky. Not precisely menacing, but definitely dangerous. And yet, it did not frighten her.
‘There is a particularly nice oil of a nymph surprised while bathing,’ he said. ‘This nymph stripped bare in the moonlight in a pond where a gentleman might look out of his bedroom window and see her. And what do you suppose he did to her?’
She did not know. But she was sure that she was about to find out.
‘The sight of her made his cock hard.’ He stepped away from her long enough to capture one of the hands that were resting at her sides, pressing it against his breeches.
Then he slipped his hand between her legs, his fingers teasing, stroking her opening with a single fingertip. ‘And then he put it deep inside of her.’ Slowly, his finger slid into her body, just as he described.
The touch left her so weak that she clung to his shirtfront for support. In doing so, her own hands grazed the sides of her naked breasts. The sudden shock of pleasure she felt was nothing like the gentle tingling she’d imagined. She had never known that it was possible to feel so much. Every inch of her skin was awake to him.
As it had been on the night at the club, he had not bothered with cravat or waistcoat. There was only the linen of his shirt separating them. But this time, it was damp from the water that had been on her body and clinging to his chest. She could feel the heat of him and the angry beat of his heart next to her as his finger moved in and out.
Then it was gone, sliding forward, spreading wetness to another, even more sensitive spot. As he toyed with her, he kissed her again, his tongue back in her mouth. She fought against it, wanting to be free to tell him how good this was, to scream in pleasure into the night sky.
But he refused to let her go, as if he would swallow the joy that burst from her as wave after wave of shudders racked her body. Her knees trembled and the place he had touched her throbbed with need for the thing he had promised. When he released her, she fell to her knees before him, no longer able to support her own weight.
He stood quiet, staring down at her for a moment. When he spoke, his words were like a tongue licking her skin. ‘You do not know what you are offering, do you, my sweet? Perhaps some day I will show you. For now, I think I shall have you in a way that is as conventional as you accuse me of being.’
He stripped the shirt over his head and dropped it in the grass beside her nightgown. Then he undid the flap of his breeches and let his manhood spring free.
She stared at it for a moment, dazed by the nearness of it. Then he dropped to his knees as well and pushed her gently backwards, down into the moss of the bank. He straddled her waist and ran his palms down her body to cup her breasts again. He was saying something, but for a moment she could not hear. She was too lost in the feeling of his thumbs pressing against her nipples, drawing slow circles around them, pinching them, almost to the point of pain, and soothing them with feather-light touches.
‘…teased me long enough.’ His words were almost loud enough to overcome the pounding of the blood in her ears. ‘If you mean to cavort naked on the lawn, then do not claim to be surprised by what is about to occur.’
But she was surprised. The last few moments had been full of revelations. She expected the next few moments would be nothing short of miraculous.
He leaned forward to kiss her breasts, taking them into his mouth just as he had drawn her tongue into it when she had tried to cry out. She clutched at his head, twining her fingers in his hair, and gave up to the feeling with a sigh.
Then it occurred to her that she could touch him just as he had touched her. She reached down, searching for the part of him that was straining towards her, circling it with her hands, and sliding up the length of it to cover the wet tip.
‘Dear God!’ He released her breasts and sat straight up as if his entire body had spasmed in shock, just as hers had done earlier.
‘Am I doing this right?’ she asked breathlessly, stroking him again, spreading the wetness down the length of him.
‘Vixen.’ His hands were clutching at the moss as he took a slow sucking breath, as if fighting for control. Then he covered her hands with his own and showed her how to touch him, before reaching out again and covering her breasts, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs. ‘It is right. But it is wrong as well. I want more from you.’ One hand slid between her legs and the fingers settled inside of her, matching the rhythm of her strokes. ‘I want this from you.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, tightening her grip on him, ever so slightly, and increasing the speed of her strokes.
He dipped his head forward and his teeth grazed the side of her neck, just as the stallion had done to the mare. His fingers thrust harder into her, deeper. ‘It will hurt the first time. But not after that.’
