Dory may not be able to see him well, but he raised his brows. “Do you think someone is more likely to see us in your room or out here on the balcony? Or if you prefer, we can discuss your quandary on the morrow. Perhaps at dinner?”
She hesitated then moved to her door, motioning for him to follow.
As he stepped over the threshold, misgivings filled his head. Her room was lit by no more than one lantern and the fire in the fireplace. An embroidery loop lay on a chair and a book sat on the end table next to the bed. The atmosphere was intimate andcomfortable. Being here could prove his mother right about him and society right about Dorothea. This was not the best place to converse. He needed to leave.
“It’s about Lord Dearling.”
At her words, all thoughts of leaving vanished. “You are troubled by Lord Dearling?”
She stood next to the post at the end of her bed. The lantern provided enough light to see that she was confused about the man. “I believe he holds me in high esteem.”
High esteem? The man had almost made a fool of himself over her that very evening by jumping up to escort her in to dinner, even though they would not be sitting near each other. “I would agree.” He held back listing the man’s faults. For all he knew, she found every one of them endearing.
“Oh, good. Then it makes sense that he kissed me in the gardens tonight.” She nodded in understanding.
“Hekissedyou?” His voice rose as fury ignited inside him, almost obliterating all thought but retaliation.
“Shhhh.” She held her finger to her lips and stood absolutely still.
His hands clenched into fists of their own accord. How dare the man take such liberties while at Sunnydale? One word to his mother and the earl would find himself halfway home by the time they broke their fast. Or would she assume that Dorothea had enticed him? He squeezed his hands harder, frustrated as well as angry.
She removed her finger from her lips and whispered. “Yes, he kissed me. But I didn’t feel anything. He’s such a nice man and very accommodating. But it wasn’t like when you kissed me.”
He swallowed hard to stay in control of his voice when he wanted nothing more than to roar. “What do you mean? What was it like when I kissed you?”
She leaned against the post and wrapped her arm around it. “It was terrifying and exciting, like falling from this very balcony while naked onto a large pile of thistledown feathers covered in soft furs that touch every inch of my sensitive skin.”
Her description struck him like a thunderbolt, his body reacting as he envisioned it all. This time, he couldn’t even swallow.
“When you kiss me, my thoughts fly and all that occupies me is physical feeling.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s not just my skin, but inside of me too. It’s as if fire is dancing in my veins, but it feels wonderful. It’s all so…so freeing.”
Even as she spoke, her face flushed and her gaze softened.
He should leave. He must go. But his feet refused to move.
Then she looked toward the fireplace, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But when Lord Dearling kissed me, I felt nothing. My thoughts kept moving about. His lips were not nearly as commanding.”
Rage filled him. A need to wipe the man’s kiss from her mind sent lightning racing through his body. It was barely three strides before he had her in his arms, his mouth demanding she open to him.
She complied at once, leaning into him, her plump breasts through her shift pressing against his thinly clad stomach. Her body instinctually molded to his, stoking his desire for her. He could barely think as her innocent tongue delved and dipped in his mouth, exciting him more than any experienced courtesan. Warmth radiated from her that was far more than heat. Her honest reaction to him sparked something inside he’d long thought dead. He moved his hand down her back to the curve of her backside and, unable to resist, squeezed.
Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her arms, which held him about the waist, moved and her hands grasped him in the same way.
He would have laughed if she hadn’t just sent desire racing through his groin. Grasping her waist to set her back, he found himself instead kissing her neck, inhaling the distinct scent of lemon and something else, something purely feminine. He tried to gain control of his actions, but a burning need pushed him on until he’d lowered the neckline of the modest shift down off her shoulder and his mouth found her hardened nipple. Without a thought, he latched on and sucked gently.
A small moan escaped her before she grabbed his head and pressed closer.
Obeying her silent command, he sucked harder and her hands left his head to grab on to his shoulders as she arched, giving herself to him.
She let out another moan that changed into a word. “Fen.”
He drew back, confusion allowing his brain to function on more than a basic level. What was he about? He carefully set her limp body on the bed and stepped back.
She lay there, eyes closed, her breast still exposed to his view, causing his body to harden. She finally opened her eyes and gazed at him beneath hooded eyelids. “That is wonderful.”
His groin tightened, but he shook his head silently, unable to find the will to speak, too confused by the need to take her. His mind told him he couldn’t, but the craving wouldn’t leave.
She sat up, her bare legs dangling over the side of the bed, her hair now partially covering her nakedness. “You make me feel…” She cocked her head. “I feel exponentially alive. Please. Don’t stop.”
