“You are most welcome,” he told her thickly, before taking the book gently from her grasp and setting it atop a nearby table. “But now, I do believe the debauching must commence. We do not have all night, more’s the pity.”
Rand had madean effort to learn more about her.
And he had brought her a gift.
And her foolish, foolish heart was pleased. Her reckless, naïve heart was feeling things. Bursting with them, in fact. Things she had no wish to examine.
Better to distract herself, she reasoned.
She had been thinking, all day long, about how she might bring him pleasure. Shewantedto bring him pleasure. Grace glanced down at his breeches as he settled the gift he had given her upon a table. The fall of them was once more pronounced.
She mustered up all her daring and boldness.The Tale of Lovehad described a lady taking her head gardener in hand. They had been amongst the roses. She had undone the fall of his breeches and eagerly gripped his staff. She had then fallen to her knees, taking him in her mouth in loving fashion…
She closed the distance between them, her breasts colliding with his chest, and then she settled her hand over him there. The rigid outline of him pressed into her palm. A new sense of wonder rushed over her, along with an answering ache between her thighs. He was so large. And thick.
He hissed out a breath. “Fucking hell, Grace. What are you doing?”
The epithet should have shocked her, but it did not.Thebook contained such words. Filthy words. Delicious words. Tentatively, she stroked him through his breeches. He seemed to grow even larger.
“I am touching you,” she said. “Do you like it?”
His hand closed over hers, and for a beat, she feared he would pry it away. But instead, his clasped it, pressing her more firmly into him. “I bloody well love it, but I am supposed to be debauching you, not the other way ’round.”
“The gardener liked when the lady touched him thus,” she told him. “InThe Tale of Love, I mean. He also liked when she took him in her mouth.”
He groaned as if he were in pain. “You ought not to have read such wicked things, love.”
“Is it true?” she pressed, the curiosity which had been dogging her gathering momentum. “What you did to me last night…would you like if I did the same to you?”
Another gust of air left him. His gaze grew heavy-lidded. His eyes seemed to burn into hers. It was as if nothing and no one else existed beyond the confines of this chamber. As if they were alone in the world, as if everything had fallen away.
“Of course I would, but Grace, that is not why I am here,” he said, his voice low.
“You are here to debauch me, are you not?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Together, his hand atop hers, they stroked him again.
“Then debauch me, Lord Aylesford.”
“Damn it, Grace,” he growled. “This is not fair.”
She smiled, sensing she was winning their skirmish. And then she rose on her toes, bringing her lips to his. On another groan, he devoured her mouth. She sucked on his tongue, desperate for him. For more.
She found the buttons on the fall of his breeches and began undoing them, one by one. As their tongues tangled, she discovered his hot flesh. He sprang forth, into her hand, long and thick and yet smooth as velvet. He guided her fingers around his shaft, showing her how to grasp him. How to stroke.
He moaned into her mouth, into the kiss. But this was not enough. She wanted to worship him in the same way he had worshiped her. She wanted to make him lose control. To reach the heights of bliss he had taken her to last night.
She broke the kiss. They were both breathless. Their gazes clashed and held. She lowered to her knees on the plush carpet.
“Grace,” he protested. “You do not need to do this.”
He was glorious, rising stiff and proud. She ignored him and leaned forward, licking around the bobbing tip. The taste of him was too good, musky man, sharp soap. She glanced up at him, her hair falling heavy around her shoulders. He was so handsome, it almost hurt to look upon him.
“Do you like that?” she asked, uncertain of what she should do.
The book had said the lady took the man’s staff in her mouth. But Rand’s staff was large. She did not see how it would fit.
