Another image carved above him was of a woman straddling a man, her legs locked around his waist. Once more, Clairemont pictured Celia sashaying toward him, a wicked smile on her pretty face. Celia, lifting her skirts, placing herself over him, around him.
God, how he wanted her. To claim her, even though he had no right to do so.Hedidn’t exist, he wasn’t the man she thought he was, but that didn’t lessen the pulsing, driving need in his loins, the overwhelming desire to grind down into her warm and willing flesh until she shattered in orgasm and milked the same from him.
His strokes increased in speed at that thought. His balls tightened to the exquisite sensation just between pleasure and pain. His entire body convulsed at last, and with a gasp, he spent, Celia’s name a breath on his lips.
He flopped back against his pillows as his heart rate slowed to normal. When he could think rationally, he cursed once more at the untenable position he was in.
He hardly knew this woman and she already inspired such dangerous, needy desires. If he were to enter this sham of a courtship, he could only image that would all get worse. Being close to her wouldn’t be easy.
And he had to expect a great many nights spent just as he’d spent this one. Guilty, frustrated and alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Celia laughed at something Tabitha had said and they watched as Lady Honora spun by in the arms of yet another young man she cared nothing for. Both women shook their heads.
“Her inheritance makes her a favorite,” Tabitha mused. “But she has no interest in a one of them.”
“Perhaps she’s holding out for love,” Celia replied, her mind turning momentarily to Lord Clairemont…Aiden. In her mind, she had begun to call him Aiden almost exclusively.
In the two days since she’d last seen him, she had often found herself reliving his heated kiss on the terrace. His mouth had been so gentle, and yet so demanding. He’d drawn her into the kiss, taking her further than she’d ever gone before.
She almost felt awakened by that touch, like she had been sleeping before it, and now she couldn’t go back to the way she saw the world before.
“Love?” Tabitha said with a laugh, yanking Celia back to the present. “Oh, my dear, you are too influenced by your sister and her handsome husband.”
Honora returned to them with a quick smile for her dance partner, who then drifted away into the crowd. Once he was gone, their friend rolled her eyes.
“Sometimes they do not talk at all it is so discouraging. I feel like they think they are dancing with a bag of money rather than a person.” Honora shook her head. “Now, how is Celia being influenced by Mr. Danford and Rosalinde?”
Celia’s cheeks filled with heat at her friends’ teasing. “I’m not. I was simply saying to Tabitha that perhaps you wished to hold out for love in a match rather than settle for someone who sees you as a moneybag.”
Honora sighed. “It’s a nice thought, but life doesn’t work that way very often, does it? My father expects a good match and eventually he’ll find one for me. I can only hope the gentleman won’t have warts and he’ll possess all his teeth and be able to string two sentences together. If he can’t, I may be forced to bludgeon him to death the first night we’re stuck together due to inclement weather.”
Celia laughed at Honora’s teasing, but inside she drew back from the truth beneath the playfulness. The kind of surrender Honora described didn’t sound like a pleasant scenario at all, yet her friend seemed resigned. But then again, just six short months ago, Celia had also been resigned to marrying someone she wasn’t connected to.
With a sigh, she found her former intended in the crowd. Stenfax wasn’t dancing, but then he never danced anymore. He looked very serious and undeniably handsome.
And yet despite all his good qualities, she hadn’t cared for him, no matter how much time she spent trying to do just that.
But with Aiden it was different. One moment with him and she felt like he’d taken a small piece of her with him. One kiss and she dreamed of him ever since.
“Ah, she’s floating off,” Tabitha said with a laugh. “Thinking of true love, no doubt.”
“Sheshould. I heard the Duke of Clairemont sent her flowers,” Honora said, arching a brow in Celia’s direction as if daring her to deny the charge.
“The duke came to my brother-in-law’s house to see to some business with Gray,” Celia corrected quickly. “He sent flowers to thankallof us for the evening.”
Only she had commandeered those flowers for her own room, along with his note, which had specifically mentioned her. How many times had she read the way he wrote her name? Ten? Twenty? One hundred and twenty?
Well, who was counting?
“He may be thanking you for another evening soon,” Honora said, now lowering her voice to a whisper. “He’s coming this way.”
Celia moved to look over her shoulder, but Tabitha grabbed her arm with both hands. “Don’tlookat him,” she hissed. “Great Lord, you have to make him work a little for your attention. Men love the struggle, the battle. You must give them one.”
Celia pursed her lips. She’d always despised these little games. She wondered what her friends would think if they knew she’d forgone them in exchange for a passionate kiss just two nights before.
“Good evening, ladies.”
