“Hold your skirts,” he ordered her, not wanting to be encumbered by the heavy impediment. All of his focus, all of his energy was about to be devoted to one task: making her come. This was how he would win her. This was how he would break her.
“You must stop,” she protested, but her tone was weak and breathless, and she made no move to curtail him.
“I’m going to put my tongue on you, inside you.” He met her gaze, withdrawing his fingers almost completely before thrusting them back inside and wringing another moan from her, another buck of her hips. “Hold your bloody skirts, darling.”
Her eyes went wide. He’d shocked her with his boldness, but he’d also intrigued her. There was no mistaking it. Her hand fisted in her skirts, holding them in place. At last, he thought, his mind half mad with the urge to claim her.At last.
He withdrew from her long enough to unbutton the waistband of her drawers and yank them down over her hips. He guided her left knee over his shoulder, cupped the warm swell of her derriere, and sucked her into his mouth. She jerked, her skirts slipping down to rest on his head, but he didn’t mind. His tongue explored her, learning her. He ran it beneath her pearl and then gave her a gentle tug with his teeth. So sweet. Sweeter than honey. More. He wanted more.
He licked her seam and then pressed deeper, inside her. Wet. Divine. Delicious. This woman was his, his in a way no other in the world would ever be. His and he would prove it to her. He would brand her, take her higher than she’d dared to imagine. He replaced his tongue with his fingers and sucked her again. Her skirts fell over his head entirely, enveloping him in darkness, but it somehow only heightened his arousal. There was only her scent, earthy and floral, the secrets of her body to savor. She surrounded him. She consumed him.
Her orgasm was sudden and violent when it came. She shuddered, tightening on his fingers, her wetness dripping warmly down his hand. He didn’t stop licking, sucking, and thrusting, drawing out her spend, making it last as long as possible until she wilted against him. With shaking hands, he pulled her drawers back into place, re-buttoning them before he emerged from her skirts. He remained on his knees, his mouth slick with her essence, forcing her to meet his gaze.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, looking stricken, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just allowed him to do to her. Her emerald eyes were wide. For the first time since his return, she was speechless. Very well. He collected the jagged ends of his thoughts—shattered by the sheer bliss of bringing her to her pinnacle—and forced them into a semblance of order.
“I won’t stop the next time, Victoria.” The words were torn from him, part promise, part warning. But she ought to know who he was. Let her not be fooled again. “I won’t stop until I have you beneath me, and I’m sliding my cock so deep inside you that you come undone a hundred times harder than you just did with my fingers and tongue.”
Her cheeks went crimson. Making a strangled sound, she spun on her heel and fled the chamber, the door slamming at her back.
Yes, he was depraved. Even more depraved than he’d ever supposed, for he was enjoying this game they played. But he would enjoy winning it even more.
t seemed unseasonably warmas Victoria wandered about in the gardens, even for summer, sun beating upon the pathway she walked. The heady scent of roses in bloom wafted to her. She would, she thought with a touch of sadness, miss this vast estate and its old world beauty. But the time had come for her to leave.
She feared she could no longer remain at Carrington House as long as her husband insisted upon taking up residence there. Oh, the wicked things he had done to her body! She’d known he was a hedonist, but when he’d used his tongue on her, he had proven it tenfold. It had been sinful. Shameful.
Wonderful.
She’d thoroughly enjoyed every second of it, much to her eternal embarrassment. But Victoria considered herself a practical person, and there was no sense in denying the truth. She had liked what her husband had done to her. She’d reveled in it. If she gave him another opportunity, she very much doubted she’d be able to deny him what he’d promised to take.
All of her. She shivered now despite the heat of the day, recalling his words.I won’t stop the next time.Dear heavens, never mind that. She wouldn’t wish him to stop. Something had clearly addled her mind, but the part of her that was rational and reasonable still remained.
She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to cause her any further hurt and humiliation. She couldn’t trust him, no matter how effortlessly he had unlocked all the mysteries of her body, showing her what she enjoyed on an elemental level. No. She couldn’t allow him to make a fool of her again. If he didn’t wish to return to London, she would in his stead. It was decided, the servants already going about the task of packing for the trip.
The only glaring trouble with her resolution was that she had yet to inform Pembroke.
A heaviness settled in her heart as she paced. Carrington House’s elaborate gardens were one of the few things that had given her life as the Countess of Pembroke a sense of purpose. When she’d arrived, they had been dreadfully in need of care, despite the admirable work of the estate’s capable Head Gardener. His focus had been more put upon the fresh vegetables and fruits grown to be sent up to the London townhouse. She took great satisfaction in admiring the beauty produced by her efforts, but today those efforts were lost upon her.
The crunching of gravel startled her, interrupting her musings. She turned to see her husband round the bend, stalking in her direction. He wore trousers and a plain coat with no neckcloth, almost as though he hadn’t finished dressing. His expression was thunderous.
Oh dear. Perhaps he’d somehow caught wind of her plans.
He didn’t stop until he towered over her. His eyes snapped, his mouth flat with obvious displeasure. “Madam.”
“Good morning, Pembroke,” she greeted, wary. She’d been attempting to escape without his notice, without further opportunity for him to do as he’d threatened.
He sketched an abbreviated bow that seemed at odds with the tenseness hovering in the air between them. “Would you care to explain why I’ve been informed that you are traveling to London?”
Her hopes sagged. “I haven’t the slightest notion why you were informed as I specifically directed the servants not to.”
He looked arrogant and sinfully handsome at the same time. “Why would you keep it from me?”
Victoria aimed her gaze at a safer point over his shoulder. He was too gorgeous to look at, and doing so would only melt her determination all the more. She couldn’t stop thinking about how that beautiful mouth had felt upon her most sensitive flesh, and no amount of perseverance and common sense appeared to lessen the effect he had on her.
She flushed. “I should think that’s obvious.”
He took her hands in his and she wished she’d worn gloves. She would have, but she’d thought she’d be alone and she couldn’t abide by standing on ceremony when no one else was about to judge her. The contact sent her mind spinning.
“Are you running from me?”
