He lifted his head, his own breath coming in quick puffs. As if reading her mind, he touched himself through the straining silk. “You want this, don’t you?”
Heat rose in her face. She would rather die than admit something so wanton out loud. “No!”
“Oh?” One thick eyebrow arched. “We’ll have to do something about that then.” Standing up, he made short work of freeing himself from the pyjama trousers, letting the silk pool around his feet before crawling back onto the bed.
His eyes lit with a wicked twinkle, he stretched out over her and kissed her deeply.
She responded fully. Her hand buried itself in the curls at the back of his neck. Sighing happily into his mouth, she twined her tongue around his.
“You taste like brandy.” She whispered the words against his lips.
He lifted his head, eyes gleaming. “I had some while I waited to come in.” Their light softened as his knuckles grazed the side of her face.
She snorted. “That was waiting? I didn’t even have my nightgown on!”
Rolling onto his side, he laughed down at her. “I saved myself the trouble of removing it.” Before she could reply, he pulled her to him and nuzzled the soft curve under her jaw.
Diantha moaned softly as his mouth drove coherent thought from her mind. Vaguely aware that he reached past her for something, she could onlycling to his shoulders under the onslaught from his lips and tongue.
She jumped as something soft stroked up the back of her leg and lingered on a bare buttock. She broke the kiss to discover he had reclaimed the fan.
“Kieran!” The word tore out of her with a gasp as he traced the contours of her behind with the cloud-soft feathers. “That’s disgraceful!”
“I suppose I’ll just have to stop then.” As soon as the ticklish fronds left her skin, she scooted onto her back. Undeterred, he merely switched his attention to her front, running the fan along the side of her face onto her neck. She twitched and instinctively raised her hands to push it away.
He easily trapped them and held her hands above her head under his forearm. “Leave them there, darling. Just lay back and feel.” He whispered the words against her ear as he slid one leg over both of hers, effectively holding Diantha in place.
After a moment of panic, she realized she could easily slide her hands out from under his arm. He slowly drew the fan down the center of her body to the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. She could only clutch at him, panting, as jolts of pleasure snaked over her skin.
“No more.” He growled the words and tossed the fan aside. His mouth fastened over one aching peak, greedily suckling and nibbling. His free hand wandered to the damp cleft between her thighs. Mindless with desire, she opened to admit him.
“Let me go, Kieran, I want to touch you.” The ragged whisper tore from her throat as his circling fingers found slick flesh and teased her most sensitive spot.
“Yes.” He took her hand and placed it on his engorged manhood. “Here.” She tried to draw back, but he held her firmly. As she cautiously stroked him, his eyes fluttered shut and he groaned.
Amazed, she realized she had the power to affect him the same way he did her. A sense of power unlike anything she had ever known overcame her as she watched his response to her touch.
When he opened his eyes and pushed her onto her back, she accepted him without hesitation, spreading her legs to accommodate his body. She did tense when he carefully pushed into her, but he had not lied. Instead of pain, she felt only an exquisite sensation of being filled that increased with each thrust.
Her heart pounded as she felt her entire body tightening as it had before. At last Kieran ground into her with a guttural cry. His explosion set off her own, waves of pleasure washing over her until she could only lie, spent and sweating, beneath him while he rained kisses on her face.
Wordlessly, he eased off her onto his side. Pulling her close, he tucked the bedclothes around Diantha and stroked her hair. She fell asleep with her cheek pressed into the crisp hair on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
Diantha hoped she had not made a mistake in giving in to him.
Chapter 8
She woke up alone. Scrambling into a nightgown and summoning Florette, Diantha’s heart twisted curiously as she looked about the room. Only the indentation he had left in the mattress showed that Kieran had come to her last night.
Sabine had confided that the baron spent the night with her after they made love, but perhaps he differed from most men. She shied away from asking Kieran directly. It seemed indelicate, and in the back of her mind she feared he would abandon her bed again if she made too many demands on him.
“Damn.” She didn’t dare say the vulgar word too loudly. “I want him too much.”
As his lordship insisted on what he referred to as “a braw proper breakfast,” the servants set up a table for two in the back salon each day. Normally, Diantha avoided the room until she knew he had finished eating. But this morning her appetite demanded something more filling than her usual cup of chocolate and buttered croissant.
As soon as the maid arrived, Diantha dressedand ordered her hair done in a simple chignon. Soon she stood in front of the closed door to the salon, her fist lifted to knock.
She caught herself. As the lady of the house, temporary or not, she did not need anyone’s permission to enter. She opened the door. “Good morning.”
