She stared at him. Here he was, with a woman she had created, who most men of his stature would see as only just above a whore. And yet he was gentle with her. Tender, even. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“My experiences are limited,” she admitted. “One man, three years ago. He didn’t do any of the things you’ve done to me tonight. But he did take me. I’m not a virgin, Graham. And I don’t want you to stop, so please, please don’t.”
He tilted his head, almost as if he recognized that there was honesty here amongst all her other lies. There was, after all. The story Adelaide had just told was her own, not Lydia Ford’s.
“I’m not going to stop,” he promised. “And I’m going to make up for whatever bad experience you had in the past.”
As he said the words, he ducked his head and suddenly his tongue was on her, in her. She let out a shocked and gasping cry and lifted her hips. What was this? This powerful feeling that pulsed through her entire being as he licked her ceaselessly. She had touched herself in the past, of course. She knew about the release of orgasm. But this was something far more powerful than anything she’d ever done for herself.
Thiswas magical.
He sucked her clitoris and she jolted as an electric current of pleasure seemed to lift her from the bed against her will. He smiled against her wet body and placed a hand on her stomach, holding her steady as he focused all his attention, all his passion, all his talent on that hooded bundle of nerves.
She ground against him, whimpering and murmuring along the building path of pleasure. And then, suddenly, she reached the edge of the cliff and she fell. Her hips jolted, unable to be tamed even by his strong hand. She let out a keening cry, clenching at the coverlet, tugging at his hair, digging her heels into his bed as wave after powerful wave of explosive sensation hit her. He continued to lick her through it all, dragging the moment out until she was trembling against the pillows, spent and weak with what she’d just experienced.
Only then did he crawl back up the length of her body. Only then did he kiss her and let her taste the flavor of her release. She clung to him, desperate as she returned that kiss and felt the ache of wanting him still pulsing low between her legs.
He positioned himself as they kissed, opening her wider, pushing his cock against her entrance. And then he was sliding inside.
Her previous experience had been a blessedly brief exploration of pain followed by humiliation and heartbreak. This was not that. Her body stretched, accommodating him like she was meant to do so, despite his size. And it feltgood, which she had never expected.
He lifted his head, watching her carefully as he withdrew and returned in one skillful stroke. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, lifting to meet him as her world condensed down into this one act, this one place, this one man.
He began to take her, slowly at first, swiveling his hips, as certain at this act as he seemed to be in all else. But as her gasps and cries increased, as the pleasure that had receded after his skillful mouth returned with full force, she could see the edges of his control fray.
His neck tightened, the veins outlined against the flesh, and he grunted in pleasure, part man, part beast, everything she wanted.
Her world began to shatter for a second time as he ground against her, and his thrusts increased as she mewled and rubbed to find even more pleasure. She saw the strain as he tried to wait, tried to draw out her experience as long as possible. Then at last he shouted, “Lydia!” and pulled away from her, his seed splashing against her stomach as he spent.
She caught his shoulders, drawing him down against her, pressing her mouth to his in wonder and gratitude as she wished, hoped and prayed that this stunning moment could last forever. And knew it would be over far too soon.
Lydia lay across Graham’s chest, her hand gently clenching and unclenching against his skin and her hair tickling his arms. It had been twenty minutes since they’d made love. Normally by now he would be exiting the bed of his lover, making some excuse to send her away or to go himself.
Of course, the last time he’d taken a lover had been years ago. His engagement to Meg had made such things awkward and he hadn’t exactly wantedanyonenear him in the months since their affiliation ended so badly.
But tonight he felt no desire to run, nor to send Lydia away. Tonight holding her felt…right. And that was slightly terrifying.
She lifted her head, almost as if she read his mind and smiled at him. “I should go.”
The comfort he’d been feeling fled with those three small words, and he examined her face to see what her motives were. He couldn’t tell. She was too good of an actress to let him see anything she didn’t want him to see.
“Back toMr. Ford?” he asked, thinking of the story she’d told of one lover long ago. He believed that to be true, but she was a good actress. It might not be.
She arched a brow and leaned up on her elbow, tracing a light pattern on his chest. “I think you know full well that pretending to be married is one way women in the theatre protect themselves.”
When she saidprotect, his stomach clenched and his mind took him back to terrible images of screaming and thudding and death and loss. He only just reined in his anxiety at that and said, “Have you ever been threatened?”
She caught her breath, and he knew the answer. But she shook her head, lied. “Not as much as others,” she said at last.
His lips pursed. To be honest, he’d never put much thought into women of the theatre or the night or the servant quarters. His world felt so far removed from theirs until now. But he could see how what all of them did put them at risk. What could they do to put off men with more power? Men who didn’t accept no as an answer if they wanted something badly enough?
Hell, even women in his circle had very little recourse if they were threatened or harmed. He knew that from bitter experience.
“What you do is dangerous,” he said.
“Sometimes,” she conceded, trouble in her stare. Then it flickered away and was replaced by something else. Something hotter. Something knowing. She lifted up and brushed her lips to his with an easy sensuality that ground his thoughts to a halt almost instantly. “But dangerous isn’t always bad,” she whispered.
She pulled away and he let her go, for as much as he wanted her, she had set afire a flame in his mind. One that was far from pleasant. He watched her step into her gown, watched her get ready to leave him, and he sat up slowly.
