Chapter 39
Caroline bit her lip to keep from crying out. She was sat in Gervaise’s lap, her satin slip hitched up high around her hips, her back arched and her breasts heaving in an almost indecent display of wantonness. Her nipples stuck out so far, she was sure they were the only thing keeping the gown up!
“Gervaise,” she whimpered as his fingers worked unhurriedly between her legs, slipping and sliding in a tantalizing tease.
His other hand rested at the small of her back.
He did not touch her anywhere else, though his eyes roamed over the face, neck, and bosom, their expression so heated it felt almost like a caress in itself.
Caroline’s thighs slid restlessly against each other as he expertly toyed with her.
One finger—his forefinger, she thought, or was it his thumb?
—nudged the spot between her legs that made her quite breathless.
“Oh!” she gasped, her head falling forward and her eyes fluttering shut.
The pressure eased off at once, a lazy smile quirking his lips.
He was doing it on purpose. He had to be!
“Wretch,” she burst out and he gave a low wicked laugh.
“What’s wrong, precious one?” he murmured.
“When I agreed to this—this indignity, I did not realize you would turn it into a torment!” she panted.
“Didn’t you?” He tutted, his fingers spreading her wetness through her cleft with devastating efficiency.
Caroline whimpered. “Now that was something of a miscalculation on your part, my sweet. But if you are feeling hard done by, we can always stop.” His hand halted and she had to bite back a protest.
“N-no,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean—that is—”
“Yes? You want me to continue?” he asked silkily.
“Yes!” she agreed desperately. “Only do hurry up! Reg will be back soon!”
“Hurry up?” His eyebrows shot up. “Ohhh, you thought I was going to let you come,” he said as if with dawning realization. The dissembler! “Afraid not,” he said regretfully.
Caroline’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“I mean for you to sit through supper squirming and needy. It will build your appetite.”
“I won’t be able to eat a thing in such a state!” she objected without any thought for modesty.
His eyes gleamed. “I wasn’t speaking of your appetite for food, but your appetite for me,” he corrected her.
She gazed at him in consternation. “But that’s—”
“Yes? What?” he asked softly.
“Truly diabolical!”
He laughed, such an honest-to-goodness laugh, that it had Caroline staring. He had no right to look so handsome when his behavior was anything but! Impulsively, she caught his face between her hands, holding him in place as she memorized his every devastating feature at close hand.
He looked surprised by her sudden intensity, as well he might. She had no idea what she was doing, only that she must do it. “What are you—?”
She surged forward, sealing her lips to his in a forceful, demanding kiss, opening her mouth over his on a gasp, and slanting it to take his own in a rough slide of tongue, teeth, and lips that had him tensing against her.
Feeling his reaction, she tore her mouth from his, trying to turn away but his hand slid up her back and was in her hair forcing her face back to his. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare.”
They panted into each other’s mouths as they shared a kiss so uncivilized that Caroline was not sure it even qualified as one. This, she thought, was likely how maenads truly kissed. With a wildness that seemed almost savage.
Oh God, why was she rubbing herself against him like that? Like some shameless, abandoned creature! She shuddered. “Gervaise,” she huffed, trying to put some space between them, but his lips chased hers, refusing to give an inch.
“What?” His voice was rough, like his fingers tightening in her hair and at her thigh. “Want to stop?” He breathed out shakily and slackened his grip on hers, pressing their foreheads together. Caroline almost burst into tears!
“No, I—” She broke off, her thoughts wildly careering. “I want—” What could she say? She did not even possess the vocabulary! “I want—”
“Yes? What do you want?” he asked, his eyes narrowed to slits. She almost missed his own disarray, his disordered cravat and untidy hair. Had she done that to him? “Tell me,” he demanded harshly. “God knows, I’ll refuse you nothing.”
“I—I want to ride your face, ventre a terre,” she blurted out, and it was a good thing she was already red as a berry, for that meant she could not get any redder.
Gervaise beheld her speechlessly for a moment, quite still, then he tipped her off his lap and stood up.
Caroline stood catching her breath as dismay washed over her.
He was likely horrified by such a notion, and what decent man would not be?
She ought never, ever have repeated such a shocking thing.
She would apologize, she would— Oh. He was removing his jacket. He threw it over a nearby chair and then followed suit with his waistcoat and cravat. Then he lay on the sofa. “Come on, then,” he said, arranging himself on his back. “And it better had be ventre a terre or Reg will catch us at it.”
Oh God. She had not even considered discovery! Caroline hurried over to the sofa, face aflame. Was she really going to do this? “I’m not sure how to—”
“Lift up your gown and place one knee here,” he said, patting a spot next to his shoulder.
He held a hand out to steady her and she took it, hitching up her pink satin petticoat.
“You will tell me if—if it becomes too much, won’t you,” she babbled as her knee sank into the soft upholstery of the sofa and she awkwardly straddled his chest.
“Yes, of course,” he murmured. “Now rest your other knee here. That’s it.”
“How will you tell me?” she asked reasonably.
He paused to consider this, then said, “I will tap your thigh three times like so.” He rapped on her thigh with two fingers. “Clear?”
“Yes, quite clear.”
“Good, now come here.” His hands came up to grasp her buttocks, urging her further forward. “Lift your skirt higher, so I can see,” he said thickly.
Taking a deep breath, Caroline did as she was told. He licked his lips and groaned and then his mouth was there, and she was grasping the arm of the sofa for dear life. He did not pause to breathe on her mound or to place gentle kisses this time. Oh no, he went straight for the main course.
“Gervaise!” she whimpered as his hot mouth licked and sucked at her cleft with precious little by way of finesse.
Oh my God. Caroline’s mind reeled. Perhaps he really did think she tasted like ambrosia?
There could be no other explanation for his voracious enthusiasm as his tongue sought out every drop.
The trouble was, the more he lapped, the wetter she got.
His mouth was open and hungry and within seconds she was struggling to keep from coming apart completely.
She squeezed the armrest, moaning, her eyes shut, her body helplessly undulating.
If poor Reg walked in now with their supper, he would certainly get an eyeful.
He would be truly shocked at such a sight, and why should he not be?
Any decent person would be shocked to their core, she thought, her breath hitching.
She was acting like the veriest hussy, straddling a man and rubbing her—what had Gervaise called it?
—her pussy against his face, while he lay back and relished such treatment!
She could be in no doubt of the fact Gervaise was an enthusiastic participant. The sounds he was making clued her into that. He sounded as if he had never tasted anything so delicious. It was so…so…indecent. She ought to be ashamed, not exhilarated.
She jerked as Gervaise sought out that fleshy bud he’d teased earlier.
This time he did not tease, he consumed.
“Oh!” she cried out, her legs stiffening.
Her eyes flew open. “Oh Gervaise! Oh Gervaise! Yes!” she wailed like a wild woman.
Someone had called her that once, had they not? Or were they referring to someone else?
She slumped forward, utterly undone. Fortunately, Gervaise was strong enough to extricate himself for she had not the strength to lever herself off.
His hands closed over her hips, and she found herself lifted and eased backward until she was sat on his stomach.
His breathing was ragged as he wiped his mouth with his wrist, staring up at her.
It was lucky she had no room left in her blissed-out brain for shame. Gervaise cupped her face, and she pressed her cheek against his hand, waiting dreamily for him to say something. Something teasing perhaps to snap her out of her pleasurable daze.
Instead, when he spoke, his words sounded almost serious. “I’ve been so damned careful not to ruin you,” he said. “Yet you refuse to extend me the same courtesy.”
Caroline’s eyes flew open. “What do you mean?” She faltered. “How have I ruined you?”
“You have ruined me thoroughly and completely,” he said, his thumb drifting over her lips. He did not sound angry though. Caroline blinked down at him, but at that moment they heard a footfall on the stair, and both hurried to right themselves.