Part 13 (1/2)

”Oh my dear,” he said, but then she kissed him. Hard and desperate. Her lips moved quickly, her tongue in his mouth before he could take a breath. He reciprocated her kiss with his own. G.o.d, he needed her, loving it when she wrapped her arms around his neck. All night long desire had poured through his too tight body, but now he was consumed with it. Drunk. And for a blissful moment he was happy. His heart ached as much as his body, as she kissed her way to his ear.

”d.a.m.n it,” she whispered.

She was trying to untie his cravat.

”Let me,” he said, then with one hand loosened his tie.

Immediately, she kissed down his neck. Not far, since his collar was utterly no help at all. Still, he growled as she bit his neck.

”Oh Lord,” he groaned.

She reached back up to kiss his lips again, which he devoured. Like a starving man, he clung to her, pus.h.i.+ng his tongue in her mouth until she parried with her own. He clutched at her waist, pulling her nearer. But it was difficult to get her much closer without...Inspiration struck! He s.h.i.+fted his hold to her hips, lifted and surprising him, she opened her legs. She sat astride his hips, and he found her hot little center against his raging erection.

She swayed when the carriage made a corner and made him close his eyes at the pleasure that burst through his body as she pressed against him.

”We keep meeting like this,” she whispered.

He softly chuckled, remembering the first time their bodies had met and collided in an altogether wonderful way in a carriage. He kissed her again. Her lips danced with his. Their breath mingled. Deciding to finally take a chance, he slowly lifted one of his hands. Before he made much progress, Erva clutched onto his wrists, then raised both of them until his palms were holding her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She swayed into him again, as she urged his hands with her own to caress her. With his thumbs he stroked against her nipples, poking through her stays and dress.

She moaned and rocked into him once more. Liquid heat shot through his body, making his c.o.c.k even harder. He rubbed again and again around and over her little nubs. Each time he did, she moved against him. Reaching for her neckline, he tried to extract her breast from her dress, but she was wedged into the d.a.m.ned thing a bit too tightly. Frustrated, he leaned forward and sucked her nipple through her clothes.

She mewled and gripped onto his hair.

Then the carriage came to a quick stop. Erva's body leaned away from him, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

”I've got you,” he whispered. Glancing at her, he caught her expression. Lord, he hoped it was appreciation he saw, that she admired him as much as he did her. Quickly, he asked, ”Will you-will you come to my chambers with me?”

He didn't wait for her response, but kissed her. Rapturously, she slid her tongue into his mouth again, and he took that as permission. He parted from their kiss when the footman opened the door to the carriage, then after a bit of maneuvering carried her out.

”I can walk, you know.” Erva laughed.

”I fear if I release you, then none of this will be real, that this is a figment of my imagination.” He was surprised he'd been so honest, revealed that much to her, but it was the truth of why he wouldn't let her go.

A servant opened the door for him, and he caught Paul's surprised face in his periphery, but swept by the lot of the people in the foyer. He took the stairs two at a time, when Erva whispered, ”Are you sure you're not a figment of my imagination?”

He chuckled and shook his head. ”Do I-” he swung into his chamber and closed the door with a kick. ”Do I meet the lady's expectations?”

”Oh no, not at all, my lord.”

He set her feet down on the ground, feeling something wrench through and around his heart. G.o.d, could he have read her wrong?

She lifted her hands to his face and held him in place with her honey eyes. ”You exceed all my expectations and then some. You're-”

This time he lunged for her lips, not letting her finish. He gripped around her waist and pulled her to his body. The rustle from her silk seemed too loud in his dark room, but soon enough he felt her pull at his loosened cravat and finally tear it from him. He laughed as pieces of white fluttered to the ground.

”I'm sorry.”

”Don't be,” he said.

”I wasn't really.”

He softly chuckled.

She reached up on her toes and kissed him back. His body ached to have her closer, but already she was as close as two people could be...while clothed. He let out a breath, realizing he could take off her clothes as she was already adeptly doing, unfastening each golden frog b.u.t.ton with her delicate hands as she kissed down his neck.

”Darling, do you have a cus.h.i.+on?”

She stopped and gazed up at him with one brow arched. ”What are we doing with a cus.h.i.+on? Just one cus.h.i.+on? Where are you going to put it?”

He laughed at her deliciously wicked mind. ”I meant for your dress's pins. Or are you sewn in? Shall I retrieve scissors?”

She blinked. ”You know how to undress a woman, don't you?”

However playfully she'd meant the words, they'd come out sounding more tense than he would have liked.

He swallowed. ”I-I was married. Did you know that?”

She nodded, and Will realized her shoulders tensed.

”It's been a while since I've done...this...”

”How long?”

The remembrance of his wife came back to crush him until his bones ached, felt fractured multiple times. He hadn't remembered making love to his wife, but of her rus.h.i.+ng outside naked in the middle of the day, begging the chef to make love to her. She'd forced herself on him, while the old man had tried to get away, but she'd been terribly strong, and before Will had caught her, she'd grabbed at the chef's hand and tried to put it between her legs. Will had had to wrestle her to the ground and take her from the man who had started to cry, more than likely feeling so sorry for the mania Julia possessed. Placing her over his shoulder, Will tried not to notice the whole cooking crew staring at his wife, screaming she wanted rabbit for dinner.

”A very long time, Erva,” he whispered, suddenly not sure he could perform what his body ached to do. He took a step away from the beauty before him, feeling too old for her, too worn, too battered.

”I-I shouldn't have asked,” she said quickly. ”It's none of my business.”

The back of his legs found a couch and he fell into it with the weight of the world on his shoulders. ”Of course it's your business, darling. I was planning on making love to you. You have a right to know.”

She blinked and followed him to the couch, but stood a tad out of his grasp. His room held enough moonlight he could make out the line of her cheek, her delicate nose, her swollen lips. Lord, she was beautiful. But like so many things in this life, she was beyond him.

”You aren't now?”

”Pardon?”

”You aren't planning to make love to me now?” Her voice shook.

He sighed. Lord, was that hope there on her incredibly lovely visage? Did she really want him?

”You extended to me the courtesy of honesty. I think I should do the same.” He began, but then found words extremely difficult over the tightness in his throat. He cleared it. ”I have a reputation, Erva.”

”I know.”

”Do you? You know they call me a scoundrel?”

”Scoundrel?” Her hands fluttered over her heart where they curled in, as if protecting her from him, his past.

”It-it started so long ago, after my marriage, after my wife-”