She did. Right then, she wanted to do that over and over again, every night for the rest of her life.
He fell away from her, settling more comfortably on his heels. But her breasts were exposed in front of him, and he couldn’t seem to leave them alone. Though one of his hands remained relaxed across her thigh, the other lifted her breast. It was a casual movement as if he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. But it made her want him again. She wanted everything again.
She didn’t speak, and neither did he. In time, his other hand left her thigh to caress her other breast. She watched him, and what the darkness hid, she filled in with her imagination.
She saw his strong jaw, the straight line of his nose, and the luminous green of his eyes. She knew when his lips parted, and she felt the hunger in him.
“Be my mistress,” he said. “Say yes to me.”
“What?” His words were so rushed that she wasn’t sure she heard him right. But then he explained, and she knew yet another shock on top of all the other surprises of the last two days.
“I can make it good for you. I can make you scream in pleasure every night. There’s more to feel than what you had tonight. I can teach you.”
His hand pushed quickly between her legs. She was already wet, much too sensitive, and yet he used the flat of his palm to push her open, and he rubbed in a circle over that spot.
Her belly tightened in reaction, and she cried out in alarm. But his other hand still held her breast, pinching her nipple again, and she began to tremble. It was good, and it was bad. It was wonderful, and it was too much.
“Feel this, Amber. Feel me.”
She was! She was feeling nothing but him.
“Give it to me again!” he commanded. “Let me see.”
He didn’t cover her mouth this time. He didn’t swallow her cry, but sat back and watched as her head arched back. As her thighs spread wide and she thrust into his palm.
“Now,” he said as he rubbed hard against her. “Now.” He did it again. “Now!”
Rapture burst seemingly from his mouth to her body. It had the feel of a piercing.
If she screamed, she didn’t hear it. Sensation overwhelmed her. Then it carried her. And then she was simply there, her body splayed wide as the ripples continued, and he watched her.
“Say yes,” he whispered. “Be my mistress.”
“Mistress?” she echoed dumbly.Not wife?
“I cannot marry you,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “My wife will be chosen for political advantage. She will advance my causes and train our children to do the same.” He spoke in such a bloodless way, as if he selected his women by assets on a banker’s sheet. “But my mistress will have more from me, and she can be anything I choose. I choose you, Amber. Say yes.”
And be his mistress?
“No.”
He had given her the best experience of her life. He had shown her things that she had always imagined, but never realized were possible for her. Not just here, but the whole night. She’d been to a ball. She’d danced with a baron, four future peers, and an earl. She’d stepped into his carriage and had felt such wonderous things.
But she knew when something was a dream. She was an expert at it. And she knew from listening to all the upstairs ladies that nothing true happens in a dream. In the morning, promises were never kept, wishes were never fulfilled, and the woman always paid in the end. Not the man with the luminous green eyes. Not the lord who could have any woman he wanted for the price of a smile. No, it was the woman who bore the disgrace and the baby, if there was one.
So she said, no, though the word hurt to say aloud. And when he looked at her with shock and disappointment, she knew she had chosen correctly.
Every man looked that way when denied a treat. When they lost at cards or learned their favorite girl was occupied with someone else. Just because Amber had been behind the cage didn’t mean she was blind. She’d seen their faces, and she knew it took men less than an hour to turn their attention elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Elliott rocked back on his heels. And as he moved away, she was able to straighten up. Her knees closed, and she twitched her skirt down. She tugged awkwardly at the ribbons of her corset, ashamed that her hands were shaking.
He reached out, and she flinched from him. His eyes shot to hers, and maybe she saw hurt in them.
“You are safe with me,” he said.
Was she? She didn’t know. She felt so exposed.
“Hold the edges together. I will tie the ribbons.”
