She reached forward and rubbed her hand along his thick, impressive length. She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr in the back of her throat, remembering the girth of his manhood in her mouth, and then the taste as he found his release. “I want this, Devin.” She didn’t break eye contact with him. “I want you.”
The muscles of his neck bunched, evidence that he enjoyed her touch, but when the fire would have sizzled in his gaze, he said evenly, “I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
She reached behind her back and loosened her corset. As it sagged and fell away, leaving only her stockings and thin chemise behind, clearly showing off her tight, pink nipples, she whispered, “Does this set your mind at ease?”
His mouth descended and he captured her mouth in a kiss so intoxicating it was more potent than the finest opium. His hands grabbed her hips and bunched the fabric in his grasp until the hem was within reach, then he left her lips long enough so he could lift the material and toss it aside. He paused, appearing to take in every inch of her nudity. “I was wrong.” He swallowed heavily. “You’re not an angel. You’re so exquisite that I can’t even put your beauty into words.”
And then she was in his arms again, while his hands roamed over her curves, leaving no spot untouched.
Constance was panting with desire as he got on his knees and used his teeth to remove her stockings. But it wasn’t until he licked his way back up the side of her leg that her arousal turned from delicious to almost painful. He was teasing and tormenting her everywhere—but he had yet to reach the one place she most wanted his touch, his tongue, his cock…
She vaguely realized that he had lifted her and she was being carried. Not until he gently placed her on the bed, did he slip off his trousers and finally dip his head down to pleasure her. With the first swipe of his tongue, she was lost to the sensation, and it wasn’t long before she was pulsing, crying out as wave after wave of her orgasm crashed over her.
She was still delirious with her release as he crawled back up her body, but instead of giving her what she most craved, he tormented her even more until she was tossing her head from side to side, begging him to fill her and ease this ache.
He lifted her legs until they were resting on his shoulders and then he positioned himself at her entrance. “Is this what you crave?”
“God, yes,” she panted, as she reached forward and stroked him. “Please, Devin…” A slight bead of moisture formed at the tip of his cock and she licked her lips in anticipation. Instead, with a groan, he began to ease into her, inch by torturous inch, until she became dizzy from the sensation.
Once he was fully inside of her, his pelvis began an exquisite rhythm, rocking against her buttocks, slowly retreating until only the tip of his cock remained, and then sliding back into her slick passage until they were as close as two bodies could be. Over and over again, he kept this teasing pace until Constance was holding her breath and clutching the sheets on either side of her, the hair that had been pinned up in a neat chignon tumbling about her shoulders in disheveled chaos.
It wasn’t until he withdrew that she moaned in displeasure. However, when he abruptly reversed their positions where she was holding herself up on her hands and knees while he was standing behind her, her blood begin to boil even faster. She flushed, knowing what was coming and eager for the result as he entered her again. His pace was ruthless, his thrusts faster and more aggressive than before. But it wasn’t until he grabbed her hips in a possessive manner, the feeling of his fingers biting into her flesh, that Constance began to quiver around his cock, her second orgasm even more powerful than the first.
As many lovers as she’d taken in the past, this was a feeling like nothing she’d ever felt before—the perfect release of her soul. It was as if she’d actually left earth and soared somewhere among the heavens.
With a low, guttural groan, he left her body and spilled himself on the sheets.
Constance collapsed onto the bed, unable to support her weight any longer, although a slight smile graced her face as she closed her eyes. She didn’t even have the strength to open them again when the bed dipped slightly. As Devin gathered her against him, she sighed in contentment. “My love,” he whispered, as he swept aside a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
It was the endearment that brought her out of her current trance and back to harsh reality. She was sure that he hadn’t meant it in the literal sense, but it was still a dangerous emotion that she had eschewed for many years, ever since the death of her beloved squire that had stolen her heart over the love of his deceased wife. Even then, she wasn’t sure if it was love, or just sympathy she’d felt for him when he’d cried on her shoulder over the loss.
Ever since she had carried the guise of Madame Corressa, she had been cautious about who she allowed into her bed, determined that it would be solely about a physical union and nothing else. She’d always held back from giving in to more, because she knew how devastating it could be.
As she opened her eyes and turned to look at Devin, her heart twisted in her chest, for she knew it could be so easy to give him everything—her body, her heart, her very soul—but then all that she had been trying to accomplish would be for naught. Not only that, but he didn’t seem inclined to send her on her way. Before, once her lovers had enjoyed their pleasure, they’d bidden her good evening with a light kiss on her forehead for a job well done. The way Devin was looking at her, it was as if she truly was the angel that he believed.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
She glanced away and got up. “I should be getting back to my room.” She donned her chemise and gathered the rest of her things.
She held her breath as he followed her and trailed a light finger down her arm. “Can’t I persuade you to stay the night here?”
She regarded him steadily. She didn’t want to hurt him any further than he’d already suffered in his dreams, but she couldn’t remain and pretend that this was anything more than what it was. Someday soon her lease would be up on this townhouse and she and Devin would part ways. Their situation was only temporary.
One night. That was all she had allowed, and it must never be repeated—for both of their sakes.
“I don’t want the servants to gossip and have it injure Lady Blessington after she’s been so kind. I’m sure you understand.” She turned to him and attempted a smile, but she was sure it came out as brittle as it felt.
His hand fell away, his dark eyes unreadable. “As you wish. Good night, Constance.”
“Pleasant dreams.” She hated how detached and empty that simple comment sounded, but there was nothing she could do but walk out the door.
Constance remained in her room as long as possible the next morning. She didn’t like to admit that she was avoiding Devin, but that was what she was doing. She’d even requested a breakfast tray as opposed to going downstairs and seeing the disappointment on Devin’s face, or worse yet, the cool detachment in the light of day.
Nor could she withstand the knowing gleam in Luke’s eye, because it wasn’t as if she would be able to hide the tension that would likely be between her and Devin—as well as the pleased flush that seemed to be permanently imprinted on her face that morning every time she looked in the mirror. She looked like a woman well loved.
And she still had to face Sir Isaacson.
Constance took a restoring breath and headed downstairs at three quarters after nine attired in a cheery, peach day dress that she hoped could account for the additional color on her face. She entered the parlor and exhaled when she found it to be empty. The baronet would be arriving soon and she wanted to ensure that she had full control of her facilities when he did.
