Olivia was a puppet in his hands. She could do nothing but press herself wantonly against the rigid length of him, rejoicing in his growl of approval, in the surge of his hips against her own.
The ache inside her was building to fever pitch and she wasn’t sure how to soothe it. She didn’t think anyone could. Anyone but Alexander.
Before she could once again beg for something beyond her reach, she felt his hand reach under the bunched material of her gown.
They gasped in unison as his fingers met the smooth skin of her thigh, bare above her stockings.
Olivia wondered briefly if she should be scared or nervous or even horrified by the feel of his hand moving further up her leg, closer to her centre. But she only felt excited, intoxicated, enthralled by the pleasure he drew from her.
His lips moved from her mouth to her ear, his teeth pulling on the lobe before moving once again, down her throat, pausing at her hammering pulse, before travelling lower still.
The hand that had been cupping her nape moved suddenly to delve inside her gown and the feel of his flesh against her aching breast caused Olivia to cry out in bliss.
All the while his other hand was on the move.
It became too much for Olivia to stand, the pleasure bordering on pain.
He was a maestro, drawing the most beautiful music from her body.
She wanted to pull away. She wanted to press closer. She wanted it to end before she expired, and she never wanted it to stop.
Something inside her was twisting, tighter and tighter. His fingers stroked her once, twice, before one pushed inside her while his thumb pressed against her, and his mouth replaced the burning heat of his hand on her breast.
The twisting ball of desire inside of her exploded, shattering into a million pieces.
The power of it was blinding and Olivia became a slave to the feeling, her hips rocking against his hand, her head thrown back in wanton abandonment.
And through it all Alexander stayed with her, anchoring her, drawing every drop of heaven from her body, the creator of her torment, and the master of her pleasure.
Slowly, Olivia drifted back to earth.
It was all she could do to drop her head forward and rest it against his rock solid chest while she tried to catch her breath.
Alexander’s arms came around her and he buried his face in her hair, dropping a tender kiss atop her head.
“Alex, I –“
Suddenly the carriage rattled, and Olivia let out a shriek of fright.
“Only me, my lord. The hour is up.”
Alex let out a strangled laugh while Olivia buried her face in his shoulder, embarrassment warring with happiness inside her.
“I need to get you home,” Alexander said softly, his arms still holding her close.
Olivia knew there’d be no ladylike way to extract herself from his grip, so she was happy to stay right where she was, nestled against him as he rapped on the ceiling and the carriage took off at a slow trundle.
Tomorrow she might regret every second of this interlude.
But tonight, she would just enjoy being so intimate with the man she loved.
Sleep eludedOlivia as she had known it would. She’d darted into the house, avoiding Sterling’s frown of disapproval and Ellie’s blatant curiosity. When she’d enquired after Jane, she’d been informed that her sister hadn’t yet returned home.
So then she added a gnawing worry for Jane to the ever-growing pile of emotions crashing through her.
She couldn’t believe what she had just done with Alexander. More than that, she couldn’t believe how little she regretted her actions.
Shouldn’t she be flagellating herself? Taking herself off to a convent or some such thing?
