“Is it warm in here?” she asked, feeling flushed in the crowded space. Glancing over at the dancers, she realized that no one was aware of them. Not even Nell, who was supposed to chaperone her.
“Aye.” His hands drifted over her shoulders and down her spine. “And growing hotter.”
His mouth brushed against hers, but the heat of his breath made her wrap her arms around him. She was wearing stays, but even beneath the corset, her body arched to be nearer to him.
“I should be ashamed of myself,” she whispered. “A lady would never do this.”
“We’re not strangers, Juliette. And one day, I hope that you’ll consent to be my bride. When you’re ready.”
That was the reason why she was giving rein to her curiosity. Intuitively, she knew that she would never allow any other man to touch her in this way. With Paul, she felt a goodness, a sense that he honored her. And a part of her wondered if she could somehow silence the nightmares of the past by confronting her fear. That was what she wanted tonight. To learn what it should have been like to steal kisses from a man she cared about.
When she kissed him again, this time his tongue slipped inside her mouth. Desire flooded through her, and she found herself leaning in, accepting him as he thrust and withdrew.
Her breasts ached, and she embraced him, pressing herself to him. She found herself wanting more, despite the thousand voices within that cried out for her to stop.
She was walking on the edge of danger, tormenting a man who wanted her. Paul had never made any secret of that.
“Juliette,” he breathed, and he pulled her hips to his, holding her close. “We can tarry only a few moments longer.”
He was giving her the chance to stop, to walk away from this. And yet, she wanted him to guide her, wanted to learn more about the ways between a man and a woman.
“A little longer, then,” she said.
His eyes grew hooded with desire, and his mouth was tight with unspoken need. “Slowly.” He moved her to sit upon his leg. His hands moved down to her bottom, and he drew himself closer to her.
“If I could, I’d take you somewhere we could be alone.” His hips were cradled against hers, and she could feel the hardness of his thigh between her legs. He balanced her weight there, and the contact embarrassed her. Not because of his touch, but by her response to him.
“I’d want to undress you, opening these buttons one by one.” His hands moved down the back of her gown, touching each of them, though they remained closed. “And then I’d unlace you here.” He put a slight pressure upon the back of her corset, drawing his hands down the laces. “I’d lay you down on a soft bed and taste your sweet skin.”
His words were a dark caress, and slowly, he moved against her. The rigid pressure of his leg against her intimate flesh was shocking. He didn’t force her, but between her legs, there was a deep ache.
“I’d worship your body,” he breathed, drawing his mouth down to the skin at her neckline. “I’d spend hours learning your flesh. Finding what pleased you.”
God above, his words were a sweet seduction, beckoning her to let go. She was locked into his words, unable to do anything but see the vision he’d painted.
“I’d kiss your breasts and suckle you until you grew wet.” To emphasize his words, he slid against her again. “I’d make you tremble, Juliette.”
“I already am,” she whispered in response. All over, she was flushed and quivering, wanting him to do the things he’d spoken of. But she knew it could not go as far as he’d want it to. She could not take him inside her, letting him claim her as a husband would. Not even if she wed him in secret.
They needed to stop, for this had gone on too long. They would be caught together, and she didn’t doubt that someone would see them.
Nearby, she heard a woman moan, and she glanced over to another couple in the shadows of the opposite corner. The woman was clasped against the man, and she was moving up and down. From the rhythm and the sudden gasps coming from her, Juliette sensed what they were doing. With Paul against her body, she was growing even more aroused, despite herself.
“They’re too wrapped up in themselves,” he countered. “They don’t see us.”
“Here?” she whispered. “They’re not actually—”
“No. But within a few minutes more, he’ll take her away.” Paul’s voice was strained, and while she was seated upon his thigh, he moved his hand to her ankle. Almost as soon as he predicted it, the man took the woman through a door in the back of the cellar and they disappeared.
Paul drew his hand to her calf, staring at her. “Will you let me touch you more? Or shall I stop?”
Stop,her mind begged. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words. Shedidwant more.
“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted.
With one hand, he moved higher, to her knee. With his hand beneath her skirts, no one could see what he was doing, and she felt a moan catch in her throat. He traced a path over her stockings, until he reached the patch of bare skin above the garters.
And then he stopped. His eyes were molten, burning with need for her. “I’m going to stop now, Juliette. But I want you to imagine my hand against your sweet flesh. You’re growing wet for me, aren’t you?”
