CHAPTER 12
She should turn her head, so he could not touch her like this.
Only that tiny caress on her lips almost mesmerized her, and his closeness created a horrible tease to her body.
Not dangerous, however. Her bedazzlement felt wonderfully normal.
Almost comforting, after the way the evening had begun.
The remnants of the fear that sent her running down the road vanished as she enjoyed his attention and allure.
“I did not come here for that.” She breathed the words more than spoke them.
“I know.”
He did not sound sincere, or even much interested. Perhaps he did not believe her. Maybe he assumed she really had come there for that, then lost her nerve and sat on the steps to decide what to do.
“My house really was broken into. Truly.”
“I do not doubt it.”
“Then why—”
His lips brushed hers. “I am not sure. Perhaps because you are curious, and I am badly tempted to enlighten you.” She felt a faint smile against her cheek while his breath on her skin made happy shivers dance down her spine.
“Perhaps because a woman who speaks her mind without hesitation challenges me. Maybe because your spirit hints at all kinds of passions.”
She sought refuge in society’s rules, but half-heartedly. “It would be ignoble of you to seduce me after I came here for help.”
His head angled so he spoke in her ear. None of him actually touched her anymore. Not one spot. Yet he might have been embracing her naked body from the breathlessness that possessed her.
“I am not going to seduce you.”
“You aren’t?”
He shook his head slightly. His soft hair feathered against her face because he had dipped his head so his phantom kisses warmed her neck. She fought the urge to squirm in reaction to his sensual taunts.
“I will enjoy the sweet torture of wanting you, however. Temptation is its own pleasure.” Again his breath feathered her ear and neck. “You feel what I mean. Right now, you do.”
She certainly did. He had her aroused worse than when they had embraced in the garden. So little space separated them that she need only exhale for her breasts to touch his shirt. The small gap begged for closure.
“I would expect a man like you to press your advantage,” she murmured. “Not settle for sweet torture.”
He looked down at his fingertips. They slowly drew a line at the neckline of her dress.
The proximity of his hands to her breasts seemed designed to drive her mad.
She waged a losing battle against her inclinations because she had been caressed by that hand before, and she had been naked, and it had been wonderful.
“As I said, I may be called wicked, but I am not unprincipled. There are many reasons why I cannot have you, tonight of all nights. A long list. You are ignorant. You came here for safety. You have drunk strong spirits. Since you are an innocent, you would expect I do the right thing afterward. I do not seduce women who do not know their own minds and will wake up with regrets, Eva, even when I badly want them.”
That tracing line connected with her skin briefly, in a small caress. The sensation streamed through her body.
Surely he would step away now, after that fine speech.
She could not bear this any longer. Her body ached with anticipation.
She understood what he meant when he spoke of the pleasure of temptation.
In the garden she had briefly tasted the fulfillment of that promise, and now the temptation swept away caution and reserve and what little remained of propriety.
“What if—what if there would be no regrets?” she asked. “What if I am tired of being ignorant, and more than passing curious?”
He just looked down at her upturned face.
“What if I know my own mind very well, and there will be no expectations at all?”
“Eva—”
“What if being held by you sounds very safe to me tonight, and very right, in ways nothing else would?”
His expression hardened. His lids lowered. Sensuality became a palpable energy between them. Her anticipation sang in a higher key. She did not think it possible to want a man to embrace her more than she did right now.
Only he didn’t embrace her. Looking in his eyes, lost in them, she knew, just knew, the instant when temptation lost the war.
She could not believe it. She had just offered herself and he was going to turn her down. He was supposed to be wicked, damn it.
To make it worse, he smiled like she was a sweet child and kissed her on the forehead.
Furious, she threw her arms around his neck to hold his head down and kissed him on the mouth. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her whole body cheered with relief.
Surprise. The smallest hesitation. Then his inconvenient decency blew away on the winds of raging desire.
His embrace enclosed her so tightly that her body melded against his.
Strong fingers held her crown so his kisses could ravish her mouth, her neck, her chest. Her own hands and arms pressed and grasped and learned and knew.
Yes, she thought, Yes, yes, as his hands moved over her and the force of his want dominated her.
A low sound in her ear. “Not here.” Here, anywhere, she did not care. They moved, she did not know how. Still entwined, still sharing fevered holds and hard, deep kisses, like a whirlwind they spun up-stairs, slamming against walls, fumbling with garments, blind with impatience.
Joy when her dress loosened halfway up the second flight of stairs.
Euphoria when he pressed her to the stairwell wall and pulled down dress, chemise, and stays until his warm hand could touch her breasts again.
Yes, as she knew that pleasure once more, so much better than in her memory.
Yes, when his head lowered and his tongue flicked.
She could no longer walk with the dress sagging low. He lifted her in his arms and carried her the rest of the way, to a bedchamber white and brown and spare.
He sat on the edge of the bed and set her on her feet in front of him. She found herself looking down into dark eyes and a face transformed by passion. Hard. Hot. A spiral of need spun through her, down to her vulva.
He pushed her garments down her hips and made quick work of her stays’ lacing. Her dress and chemise fell down her legs, and the stays flew through the air, leaving her naked in front of him.
His hands and gaze moved down her body, from her shoulders to her knees.
“You are beautiful, Eva.” He pulled her closer, between his thighs, one hand on her bottom and the other on her back, and kissed her so passionately that her knees almost buckled.
Then his mouth moved to her breasts. Tongue and teeth began devastating arousals, while his caresses claimed her hips and thighs, her bottom and back.
All of her. A sensual stupor engulfed her.
The need pulsed more and more, aching and wanting.
A frantic yearning entered her euphoria.
It grew until it absorbed the pleasure within itself.
His hand slid between her thighs. He touched her at the center of her desire, where all the sensations collected and pulsed. She cried out from the intensity, and almost pulled away. He held her so she could not, while he touched her again with a long stroke.
A compelling union of pleasure and excruciating need maddened her.
He lifted her and set her on his knees facing him, her legs straddling his.
She looked down as his hand again stroked her, only now she was open to him.
Shockingly so. Before she closed her eyes to contain the delirium, she saw he was looking down there too.
She almost wept. She begged with a series of pleas, for mercy, for something. “Soon. Very soon,” he said.
His hand moved again. A caress sent her reeling. “You will know this now, because I cannot be sure you will when I take you.”
He pressed her forward, against his chest. He embraced her there while he deliberately made her madness worse and worse, until she thought she would scream.
Then she did scream, right into his shoulder, as all the need burst apart and exquisite sensations flowed out of it. She lost all other sense in that moment, and only reclaimed herself slowly while she sagged, naked and astonished, in his arms.
She did not know how long they sat like that, with her limp in his arms while that glory echoed in her. Finally he stood, turned, and put her on the bed.
* * *
Gareth stripped off his clothes and joined Eva in bed. She still lulled in a stupor, but not so much that she had not watched him undress.
“Come here.” He reached for her. “Here, like this.” He positioned her on her back, on top of him, her head against his shoulder and her body exposed to the air, his gaze, and his hands.
She flailed a little, surprised at being propped like this.
He nuzzled her head and caressed down her sides until she allowed herself to sink against him.
That caused her bottom to press his erection.
Up her hips went, abruptly. Down they came again, carefully testing, as shock gave way to curiosity.
She shifted so she nestled him between her thighs.
He moved her slightly again so the tip of his cock pressed her mound.
She squirmed just enough to make a spike of feral craving obliterate his thoughts. “You really are wicked,” she said. She arched sensuously against him.
He kissed her shoulder and face. Her breasts rose higher, round and firm, their dark tips tight again. He lightly skimmed them with his thumbs, and she all but levitated. He feathered caresses on the tips again. She grasped the sheet on either side of his hips and twisted the fabric in her fists.
He continued teasing her while desire re-inflamed her. She rocked against him, her thighs caressing his cock and her mound pressing its head. He hardened and swelled even more. His hunger took on a ferocious edge.