Juliet considered sitting on one of the sofas or chairs scattered about the room, but thought better of the idea. It would not do for her to grow too comfortable, for if she did, she might forget to return to the ball within a reasonable amount of time. And if she dallied for overlong, Olivia would take notice and be cross with her.
One chapter, she told herself, and then she would return to the ballroom. With her decision made, she allowed herself to sink into the tale as she stood near the hearth with her body facing the bookshelves. After less than a paragraph, she was hooked on the story and devouring the pages.
“You are early, kitten.” The deep timbre of a man filled the room.
A pair of muscular arms came around Juliet as she heard the masculine voice. She jumped at the intrusion and unexpected contact; the book dropping from her hands to thwack against the floor.
“There is no need to play coy,” he said, then brought his lips to the column of her neck.
Caught completely off guard, heat spiraled through Juliet, and a small moan floated from somewhere deep inside her. She’d never had a man’s lips on her neck—never had much attention at all from men.
Who was this one, and more importantly, who did he think she was?
Regaining a bit of sense, she pulled away then turned on him. “Do you make a habit of accosting ladies?”
His eyes darkened from a light blue, green shade to more of a deep hazel as he stared at her. For a moment, he appeared unsure, perhaps confused, then he gave a devilish grin and said, “Only the beautiful ones.”
Her heart slammed in her chest as her pulse ticked up. He was tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome with his golden hair, patrician nose, full lips, and chiseled jaw. And he had called her beautiful! She’d never beheld such a man. Certainly never been complimented in such a way by an exceedingly handsome man.
He took a step forward, bringing his body closer to hers, and she smelled the brandy wafting from him. All at once, his behavior made sense. The man was foxed, quite thoroughly if she had to guess.
Juliet held out a staying hand. “Whoever you were expecting, I am clearly not her.”
“Certainly not.” He reached for her. “You are a far better surprise.” He caught her in his arms and brought his lips to hers.
Juliet thought she must be in a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. Either way, it was proving far too pleasant. New sensations traveled through her, her body feeling more alive than it ever had as he slanted his mouth over hers.
She should stop this at once. The man was clearly not in his right mind. She could taste the brandy on his lips and she’d smelled it before. It radiated from him, but she did not find the smell or the taste off-putting. It smelled of fruit, a pleasant and earthy aroma mingled with the taste of sweetly bitter liquor as their lips joined.
If they were caught…
His tongue slid across the crease of her lips, and as if on instinct, she opened her mouth, allowing him entrance. Devastated, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on as he deepened the kiss. All thought fled her mind when he pulled her body tight against his, pressing her breasts to his muscular chest.
She’d been kissed before. Once by a neighbor boy. But that kiss… It could not compare to this. They had been children, and the kiss had been chaste. An experiment between two curious youths that left neither impressed. Nor had she experienced any of the sensations the man kissing her now was causing.
Her entire body warmed and tingled as he worked his lips over hers, his tongue sliding over hers and hands holding her close. Tendrils of heat and wanton passion unfurled within her and spread throughout her body. Her pulse thrummed, and the place between her thighs grew damp. The effect of his kiss was devastating, and all at once, addicting.
He cupped her bottom and lifted her from the ground. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart,” he said before capturing her lips anew.
Unwilling to stop herself, she complied, wrapping her legs around his hips as their mouths took greedily of each other. Juliet wanted more of this—she wanted more of him.
He carried her to a nearby table, then sat her on its edge, his mouth never leaving hers. An unfamiliar sensation, a deep longing, gripped her as he stroked one hand up her leg, pulling her skirt up with it.
This truly was too much. Another moment, a few inches higher, and she would reach the point of no return. She would be ruined if she did not stop him now. For she’d be unable to stop him later. She craved these new sensations he was causing within her—she wanted him.
Ultimately, she found herself powerless in the face of his seduction. When she should have pushed him away, she pulled him closer. Another minute. Another kiss. One more caress. She would allow herself one more minute of bliss, then she would demand he leave her.
He slid his lips from hers and blazed a trail of fervent kisses across her cheek, stopping to suckle her earlobe, then whispered, “You are so sweet. So beautiful.”
Her core throbbed as her heart delighted. She was a fool. A wanton she-devil destined for ruination. But most shocking of all was the realization that she did not care. Juliet had never felt so alive, so feminine and primal, and she reveled in the powerful awakening.
He trailed his kisses down her throat, suckling and laving her hot flesh as he stroked higher up her thigh. His touches gentle, his fingertips like little flames dancing across her thigh.
When he dipped his tongue into the valley between her breasts, Juliet whimpered with need. Her body begged for more, something else, something she knew only he could give her.
But she could not allow for it. This had to stop before they were caught. Before she let him go too far. Before, she gave all of herself to a stranger.
Juliet pushed at his shoulders. “Stop. We cannot.”
