Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Take it slowly, for your own sake.
Adrian bit his lip, hard enough to cause a pinch of pain, as he observed Valerie on the squabs: her bosom rose and fell in shaky breaths, her fingernails digging into the velvet upholstery, her entire body trembling slightly in anticipation.
It was the most intoxicating thing he had ever beheld.
She was the most intoxicating thing he had ever beheld, which was part of the problem.
How was he supposed to restrain himself when her whole being sang to him like a Siren call that he could not resist?
Even now, his manhood yearned for the molten heat of her depths, his loins ablaze.
If I cannot relieve this, I will go mad.
He shook off the thought and focused on her, remembering the singular bliss of her writhing and bucking on the library’s chaise-longue.
Indeed, since then, he had not had another nightmare.
In their place, he had luxuriated in dreams of her, where he had not stopped at her pleasure but had indulged in his own, too.
“What are you doing?” Valerie asked, a nervous note in her voice. “This is not some game, is it? Are you toying with me?”
He rested his fingertips beneath her chin. “Not toying,” he replied, as he grazed his teeth across her lower lip. “Teasing, perhaps. Just enough so that you beg for more.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and he did not hesitate.
Resting one hand on her thigh, lightly digging into that supple flesh, he kissed her with every measure of that relentless desire.
He kissed her as if they had been dancing around one another all day, and had finally stolen a moment alone.
He kissed her as if they had never left the library that night, picking up where he had left off.
Blindfolded as she was, it took her a second to catch up to what was happening, though when she did, her kiss was just as ferocious. She held his face in her hands and shuffled forward on the squabs, her skirts ruching up to reveal the slender curve of her ankles.
He could not hold back, his hand grasping those skirts, pushing them up to her hips as he kissed her harder.
She responded willingly, urgently, her hips tilting, her thighs squeezing against him as if to bring him closer.
Driving him toward a point where he would need every shred of willpower he possessed not to cross a line that could not be undone.
“Yes, Adrian…” she murmured against his mouth, her fingertips running through his hair. “Let me feel you.”
His loins ignited, from smoldering embers to a raging inferno at those words. Words she could not possibly understand the true meaning of, or what they could do to a man, unraveling him.
“Patience,” he whispered, as much to himself as to her.
“But I—”
The touch of his fingertips against that secret center of a woman’s pleasure transformed her complaint into a hitching gasp, her own fingertips tightening in his hair, tugging without realizing.
The slight pain mixed with the bliss of hearing her moan proved useful to Adrian’s discipline, his mind distracted from the ache in his loins, diverted back to the divine pursuit of her pleasure. And hers alone.
Sliding his other hand down her thigh, that smooth, creamy skin like silk against his rough palm, he strummed her slowly.
Listening to the sound of her breaths, her gasps, her moans, her whimpers, so he could learn the music of her body, unveiling the mysteries of what made her soul sing the most. A perfect symphony could make one feel closer to heaven; it was the same with the orchestra of the female form, and if he dedicated himself to the instrument of her, he had no doubt that he could make her reach paradise again… and again… and again.
“Oh, Adrian… oh… yes… oh, God, yes…” she panted as he circled that swollen bud, her neck arching back to invite his mouth to kiss.
He traced his lips up the curve of her neck and tugged gently on her earlobe with his teeth, before he kissed his way back down her throat and over the rise of her perfect, ripe breasts.
Tugging the neckline of her dress and the stays beneath, he eased a nipple free of the constraint of her attire. She seemed to hold her breath as he circled that pert pink with his tongue, her back arching slightly to bring her nipple closer to his mouth, her desires clear.
He smiled to himself, in awe of how willing she was, and how readily she surrendered herself to him. The feeling was almost more intoxicating than her gasps of bliss as he continued to strum her bundle of nerves, making a note in his mind of what she liked the most.
At last, he gave her what she wanted, his mouth closing over her nipple to suck gently on that sensitive flesh.
At the same moment, he cupped his hand against the heat of her, his thumb taking over that coaxing strum…
and when she cried out in bliss, half-grinding herself against his palm, he eased his finger inside her, wishing it was his throbbing manhood instead.
“Adrian…” Valerie moaned, overwhelmed by the new sensation, relishing it entirely. The best way she could describe it was like someone scratching her back, relieving an itch she had not even known she had, shivering at the surprising, thrilling release.
Adrian paused in the gentle, torturous suck of his mouth upon her nipple, and though she could not see, she somehow knew that he was gazing at her.
Imagining the intensity of that dusky blue heightened the power of his touch, as she pictured a faint smirk lifting one corner of his lips.
At that moment, he eased another finger inside her.
Like he wanted to watch the effect he had upon her in keen detail.
She hoped she did not disappoint, the pressure of two fingers bringing a strained cry to her lips. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, strange and wonderful and tantalizing all at once, her wayward mind drifting to that bulge in his trousers and the hardness she had felt in the library.
Her sex pulsed at the thought, clenching around his fingers, igniting a rush of sparks that flurried up into her abdomen to stir up the butterflies that fluttered there.
“Oh God,” she gasped, grasping him, clinging to him as he began to move his fingers in a slow, curving glide, his fingertips pulsing against a new well of nerves that thrummed with the promise of her climax.
In a frenzy, breathing hard, she traced lazy, exploratory kisses wherever she found the heat of his skin.
A game of guesswork to figure out what she was kissing: the tickle of his stubble tingled her lips, the difference between his scars and his unscarred skin surprisingly defined, the soft give of his mouth a wondrous thing, the rise of his cheekbone a satisfying curve for her lips to map, the corded lines of his throat compelling her fingertips to caress that muscular neck.
She easily could have lost herself in him, and she would not have cared if she ever found her way back. This was worth escaping her home for. This was worth getting stuck on a winter road in a snowstorm. This was worth every hurdle and misstep that had brought her to that moment.
What would it be like if I stayed? What more could there be?
The thought was fuel upon the fire of her pleasure, her imagination once again joining in with the reality of Adrian’s majestic talents for bringing her bliss.
She pictured them in her guest bedchamber, entwined on the coverlets with nothing—no cumbersome dress, no tight trousers, no barrier of propriety—between them.
Instead of his fingers, she imagined something else sinking deep inside her, though she had no notion of what that something might look like, only a guess.
“Adrian… oh, Adrian…” her breath quickened, her voice desperate as that rising ecstasy began to race toward its conclusion. “Yes, Adrian! Yes!”
He gripped her waist as his hand worked its magic, his mouth finding hers as she was thrown into that grip of pure euphoria.
“Yes, Valerie. Good girl,” he purred, kissing her harder. “Come for me.”
She did not know if she managed to form words in response, or if it was just a cry of ecstasy, but her body responded to his command as if he had been in control all along. Indeed, she was not even certain what he meant by “come for me,” but it did not take a genius to guess.
Her hips bucked and she ground against his palm, taking his fingers deeper into herself, needing that last bit of pressure from the brush of his thumb to ride out that overwhelming rush of absolute bliss.
All the while, he kissed her, savoring each gasp and moan and cry from her lips, his own breath catching slightly as she raked her fingernails across the rippling muscle of his back.
Adrian did not abandon his attentions as soon as that wave crashed into her, his movements continuing, slow and deliberate, as if waiting until her bliss began to recede.
When it finally did, fading to an undercurrent of vibration that made her feel all tingly, as if she had just come in from a brisk walk in the snow to thaw in front of a roaring fire.
“It is dangerous to travel alone with a gentleman,” Adrian said in a husky voice, laced with something that might have been amusement, as he slowly withdrew his fingers.
A soft, last gasp escaped her throat, a little dismayed that it was all over.
Carefully, Adrian untied the knot in the back of the blindfold and drew the silky fabric away. The glare of the carriage lanterns stung Valerie’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly to clear the blur, eager to look into Adrian’s dusky blue gaze once more.
“Might you show me where the gentleman is?” she replied with a sly smile, her heart still racing.
He raised an eyebrow. “How rude.”
“No gentleman could have done that,” she insisted, fanning herself furiously with her hand.
Indeed, Adrian still had his hand on her bare thigh, his eyes alight with a desire that she longed to satisfy. So much so that, before she could think herself out of it, she reached down to stroke her fingertips over the still-hard bulge that conjured so much intense curiosity.
He caught her by the wrist and pulled her hand away. “Unwise.” A dark smile graced his lips. “If you give permission for that, nothing will stop me from crossing the line that I spoke of. Protect your honor, Valerie. Touch me there, and I will not be able to.”
She swallowed thickly. If that sentiment was supposed to dissuade her, or dampen her curiosity, then he should not have spoken in such a seductive voice.
“And if I should want—” she began, but Adrian kissed her silent, his lips a searing warning that she should not continue. Or, perhaps, it was his hand on her wrist that provided the warning, for his kiss stoked the opposite effect.
A moment later, he pulled back and repeated words that had taunted her since the first time he had spoken them to her: “Do not ask for too much, Valerie.”
She was about to ask what ‘too much’ entailed, considering the lines they had already crossed together, when the driver called down from the bench.
“People on the road, Your Grace!” A second later. “Looks to be the lady’s driver! Aye, they seem to be tending to the carriage!”
In an instant, Valerie’s heart ceased racing and plummeted instead. She had almost forgotten that she was waiting for news from the driver and that she would, indeed, be continuing on to Scotland soon. The carriage was always going to be fixed, one way or another.
After the party. I have until then, she reminded herself, as she glanced at Adrian to gauge his reaction. There was nothing upon his handsome face: a complete blank of emotion or response.
“Tell the man to drive the carriage to the castle when everything is remedied!” Adrian called back, as he retreated to the other side of the squabs and retied his cravat.
His waistcoat came next, buttoned up, then his tailcoat and his greatcoat, until no one would know that he had ever removed them.
Reminded of her own state of undress, Valerie readjusted the neckline of her gown and let her skirts drop back down to a more appropriate length.
As she restored her clothing to its former neatness, her heart sank a little more.
She only had herself to blame for that heavy feeling in her chest. This had always been a temporary delay to her journey.
What had she expected—that he would suddenly implore her to stay and be his Duchess?
Even she was not foolish enough to believe in Christmas miracles, for he had told her from the start, and told her again, that she should not ask for too much.