Her grip on his hair relaxed, and he set her down on her feet, steadying her as she rocked toward him. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, take her to his carriage and then to his bed, and emerge only after they’d worn each other out. His cock filled again and he reluctantly pulled free of her.
She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her breasts heaving as he found his handkerchief, cleaned himself off, and then pressed the folded cotton gently between her legs. She drew a shuddering breath.
“I’ll go to the retiring room and set myself to rights.”
“Yes.”
She left him leaning against the wall, listening vaguely to the sounds of the soprano on the stage as he calculated when his guests would be expecting refreshments at the interval. A sense of dissatisfaction enveloped him. He wanted more than quick, hurried couplings in inconvenient places. He wanted a large bed equipped with a naked Carenza and no interruptions for a week. He wanted to make her scream and not stifle her cries in case they were heard.
“You are behaving like a lovesick youth,” he scolded himself out loud. “Not a sophisticated, discreet, renowned lover of women.”
“Sounding a little conceited there, Mr. Laurent,” Mrs. Sheraton spoke from behind him. “And what have you done with Carenza?”
“I believe she’s gone to the retiring room.” Julian turned to face her.
“May I make a suggestion?” Mrs. Sheraton looked at him. “I’ll tell your other guests that Carenza isn’t feeling well and that you have taken her home. What you do with that time is up to you as long as you get her back to Tavistock Square before Allegra notices she isn’t there.”
He stared at her and then nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll take care of the others,” Mrs. Sheraton said. “I do hope you’ve provided refreshments so that we don’t have to mingle.”
“They will be delivered promptly to this room at the interval,” Julian promised.
Carenza arrived and went still as she saw Mrs. Sheraton. “Olivia …”
Mrs. Sheraton looked at Julian. “She does look rather flushed. You are right to take her home.” She winked at Carenza. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Allegra occupied until you return to Tavistock Square.”
“Thank you.” Carenza kissed Mrs. Sheraton’s cheek. “I’ll get my cloak.”
Minutes later, they left the opera house and were ensconced in a hackney cab taking them back to Julian’s house. He studied her in the dim light.
“I gave my staff the evening off, so we’ll be quite alone.”
“Oh, dear. How will we manage?” Carenza asked. “You’ll have to help me disrobe.”
“I had every intention of doing that anyway.” His gaze flowed over her. “I haven’t seen you naked for far too long.”
She shifted slightly on the seat, aware of the wetness between her thighs and the throbbing of her flesh where he’d thrust into her so forcefully.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”
She held his gaze and slowly licked her lips. “I’m just getting comfortable, sir. I am quite … sensitive.”
“Was I too rough?”
“No. I rather liked it.”
He groaned and looked out of the window. “This damn traffic. How long will it take to get to my bloody house?”
“We’ll be there in five minutes, guv,” the cabdriver shouted down to him. “Keep your powder dry.”
Carenza hid a smile and looked at Julian. “If the floor were cleaner, I might consider going down on my knees, and—”
“Stop talking,” Julian said through his teeth.
Luckily, for his sanity and hers, the cab soon arrived at the mews behind Julian’s town house. He paid the driver and assisted Carenza down. He took her hand, marched her through the garden, and into the house. There was a single lamp burning in the kitchen, and the boot boy slept in his bed by the range. Light came from under the door to the butler’s pantry, but no one came out to speak to them.
“Up the back stairs. It’s quicker,” Julian murmured.
