But Violet didn’t care. Not when this enchanting man pleasured her in ways she’d only dared imagined in her most wicked thoughts.
The warmth of his mouth on her, the texture of his tongue and of his hand and fingers, fondling, entering…
His supremely orchestrated onslaught was a glorious one; it was unreal. And with each new stanza, she gave in to one wave of pleasure after another, each increasing in intensity. How had she surrendered her body so thoroughly?
She didn’t know. She didn’t care.
She wanted him everywhere. She wanted his cock inside of her.
Cock.
The combination of simply thinking the word and increased pressure from his mouth sent her crashing over another wave. She cried out, shaking, swirling into a vortex of hedonism.
And as that wave finally subsided, he slowed his caresses until they both lay spent, breathing heavily but not quite in unison. After a few minutes, him half lying on her, her, a twisted wreck of a woman on the bed of a duke that she’d never met, Violet exhaled.
“Simon?”
“Yes?” He kissed his way up her belly and she giggled, stilling him.
“That’s ticklish,” she gasped.
“I’ll remember that. What were you going to say?” He removed some of his weight and stared up at her.
“I did not think of… any of this when I contemplated an… affair,” she admitted. Her anticipation had been limited to the slightest hope that she wouldn’t walk away feeling empty, and that she’d know she wasn’t broken.
Simon moved his hand slightly, his fingertips still inside of her, and she gulped.
“You mean, this?” he asked. “Have I disappointed you?”
She smiled. “You know that you have not. It’s just that, this… it’s terribly… fun. And I don’t think I’ve had fun in a very long time. Not the sort that makes you feel excited to wake up in the morning. And, even if this is all we ever have, I wanted to be sure to thank you.”
“You never have to thank me.”
“I know. But I want to.”
He pinned her with a stern gaze. “Likewise, then.”
“But I’ve not done anything for you.” She pushed herself up, suddenly conscious once again of where they were and how catastrophic it would be if somebody decided to come seeking the impertinent couple touring Heart Place.
“Violet.” He stilled her with a frown. “It’s not your responsibility to please me. I’ve found a great pleasure simply knowing you. That, in and of itself, has been a gift. The extraordinary fact that you allow me to touch you… And that you would touch me.” He took her hand in his and settled it over the rigid bulge beneath his trousers. “It’s more than any man could hope for.”
“You are not at all what I expected.” She kept thinking she needed to labor in order to maintain his affection. It was how she’d felt before…
“What did you expect?” He assisted her off the bed, and as she contemplated her answer, she smoothed the counterpane.
Which was dreadfully wrinkled and slightly damp. “The maid is going to know,” she conceded in dismay. “She’s going to know.”
But he pulled her away. “Don’t worry about that. Now tell me…” He drew her up against him. “What did you expect?”
Was there just a hint of vulnerability in his question?
“I expected you to be slightly… heartless.” And then she winced at how that sounded.
His brows shot up. “But I am not?”
“No, you are not heartless.” Violet reached onto her toes to press a kiss against his mouth. Kissing him impulsively was quite liberating. “Am I what you expected?”
“Considering that for weeks, all I got out of you were disapproving frowns.” One corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes twinkled.
