“You have a poor opinion of mankind.” He swiped his thumb up higher, and her breath caught. “Are we so very irredeemable?”
Her eyelids fluttered as though she heard the silent question underneath his voiced one.Am I so irredeemable?
“I thought—perhaps—so.” Her fingers gripped his coat, ensuring he could not escape even if he had wanted to. “Now I hardly know what to think.”
His back brushed the wall, and he tightened his hold on her, drawing her flush against his body for the first time. The feel of the contact made him want to groan, to whisper her name and unpin her hair so it fell over her shoulders the way it had the previous night in her bed.
Yet the moment he did, their game would be at an end. Once he undid their pretence, he would not be able to stitch it into being once again.
He was not sure if he would want to.
She leant back, gazing into his face. Her hand rose, fingers brushing the edges of his mask. An indifferent disguise, as ineffectual as hers. “I do not wish to think about tomorrow,” she whispered.
He caught her wrist, fingers gentle, and brought it to his mouth. Soft, so soft, under his mouth, the scent of her perfume more pronounced here. Hardly breathing, she allowed the caress.
“Then let us live in denial a little longer,” he whispered, and when he flicked his tongue across the line of her vein, she gasped. “Allow me one thing, sweet Circe.”
“What is that?”
“Allow me to kiss you.”
The shadows of reality beckoned as she watched him. “Why?”
“Because I have wanted to since first I saw you.” He drew her arm over his shoulder and played his winning card. “We only have one night.”
Consequences. The word thudded dully at the back of his mind, and he knew it played in her mind, too. However much they didn’t want to face up to what this meant, tomorrow they must. A conversation was in order.
But for tonight . . . Tonight they could play at falling in love and nothing more.
She leant against him, eyes widening as she encountered his erection pressing against her stomach. Even if he had wanted to deny wanting her, this rendered it impossible.
He didn’t mind. Let her know. If she had been paying attention over the course of their marriage, it would be nothing new. An old reality, no longer shocking.
Still, what looked like surprise flitted across her eyes, and her breath came in a short spurt.
He ached.
His thumb brushed the underside of her breast.
Both hands braced on his shoulders, she rose onto her tiptoes, rubbing up against him with innocent sensuality as she brought her mouth against his.
Allow me to kiss you, he had said. Expecting, as had always been the case, to be the one to initiate. He had expected that she would yield, and perhaps—as he hoped—enjoy what pleasure it brought her. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held herself in place as she kissed him. Clumsily at first, theirlips unaccustomed to the feel of the other’s. Unaccustomed to the sensation of her taking control.
Percy yielded. Both hands moved to her waist to support her as he returned her kiss gently, not letting her feel the way her tongue sent need rampaging through him. When she nipped at his bottom lip, he tightened his hold on her, stifling the groan. But by the way her lips curved in a smile, she understood what lay behind his restraint.
If he had his way, he would lay her bare and find a surface to take her against. Any would do. The wall, even, if she would permit him spreading her legs and pushing between them.
He blinked back all the lurid fantasies that sprung to mind, knowing he could never give way to them here. Or, perhaps, anywhere, if she refused to allow her body its desires. For as long as they had been married, she’d locked up the moment her body had responded to him. Out of resentment, he was sure. A feeling of loyalty, in some twisted way, to the man she had believed herself to love.
And so he held himself still as she tilted her head, finding the place their mouths slotted together as though they were made for one another. Her tongue slid against his, gently probing and gaining in confidence at the shiver that rocked through him. His hips jerked, out of control, seeking friction against her. In response, a moan tore from her throat, and she clung to him more tightly.
His restraint slipped, just for a second, and he felt around her to grip her backside. Such perfect curves, lush and soft in all the right places. He’d never known want until it came with red hair and green eyes and lips that were as wont to pout as smile.
He throbbed for her, kissing her back more urgently, showing her with his mouth all the things he longed to do elsewhere. Taste her. Lick her. Find her pleasure and bring about her climax the way she had never allowed him—but tonight, he knew, theusual rules did not apply, and she would give him all the things she had denied their entire marriage. Not merely sex, butdesire.
And where would that leave them?
Gasping, she broke away, staring up at him through the shadows with wide, lustful eyes and swollen lips. “There,” she said, voice throaty in a way that made him burn. “Your kiss, sir.”
