“All it would take,” he murmured, “would be for you to lift your skirts and allow me to slip a hand between your legs.” He dipped his gaze briefly to the gentle swells of her freckled breasts. “I’ll show you what you really want, and what I offer in return.”
Holding her gaze, he lowered his lashes. Slowly, deliberately, he reached down and caught the edge of her dress just below her knee, where her stockings were revealed, and inched the fabric upward. He had lifted it no more than the span of a hand before the lady summoned the ladylike protest expected of her.
She whimpered. “Please.”
Culross caught several loose curls left artfully by her clever lady’s maid. He twined the silken tresses slowly around two fingers. The candlelight cast a fine glow upon strands that didn’t know whether they wished to be blonde, brown, or auburn, and settled upon a mesmerizing meld of the three.
Meghan’s breath caught the air. Her long siren’s lashes, cut of the same hue as her hair, fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.
Culross drew her curls close and inhaled deep the rosewater scent that clung to those tresses. “Please what?” he whispered silkily. His other hand began to glide her skirts slowly higher, exposing her bare limb to his worship. “Please put my hand in your hot cunny, Meghan?”
A little moan eased past her pink lips.
Satisfaction filled him. “Yes, that is right, little kitten.” He kept on in the silky murmur that had lowered her defenses. “You want my hand here.”
He palmed her mound.
Culross gritted his teeth. He’d be damned if he admitted to wanting her as badly as he did. “Even wetter than I’d imagined,” he said thickly.
Meghan bit at her lower lip. “P-Please.”
His breath grew ragged. How quick she’d surrendered. And how ridiculously much he wanted to—
“Stop,” she finished faintly.
The faint tremble in her voice, her uneven breath, made a mockery of the lady’s command.
Please, stop.
Unfortunate. “Such a shame,” he said. He would greatly enjoy tupping the beloved cousin of his greatest enemy. “Let me kiss you,” he whispered, enticing her. Doing so as much for her as for him. “Prove how unaffected you are by me.” He knew far better than to implore and had too much pride and no need to do so. He also knew how to bring this obstinate spitfire to do his bidding.
“You think you are so skilled a lover.” Desire clouded her eyes, but the words she spoke displayed an admirable amount of control and strength. “You believe you’re irresistible, that I would never reject your obvious advances?”
The force which she hurled her obvious lie sent a fresh wave of blood to his unsated cock.
She tipped her chin up.
God, how had he failed to notice there was some beauty to the lady after all. Perhaps he’d been just so blinded by his goal for her sister that he hadn’t seen the more apt partner for him…and his lust.
Either of the sisters would’ve done. In their own way.
Unfortunate that. Things would be very different now.
Meghan bit at her lower lip. “Why?”
Her question stopped him.
“Why?” he repeated.
Meghan nodded hesitantly. “Do you…want me?”
Too bloody much.
He narrowed his eyes. His lust vanished. From the moment they’d locked eyes in the orangery, she’d sought the same thing her family did—power over him. They’d cost him an alliance. His pride.
His damned sanity.
They would take nothing else from him.
