Chapter 17
Oh heavens.
Selina couldn’t possibly resist when Philip kissed her like that, like she was all that mattered and all that existed… for however long the moment lasted.
She melted into the solidity of his body, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her fingers slid through his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor, a slight smirk touching her lips when she remembered what he had said to her last night.
No, Philip, you did not imagine my frantic breaths in the library, nor the way I kissed you back so fervently. And no, I was not clinging to you purely to steady myself.
Her breath was already frantic, sawing in and out of her between hungry kisses.
Maybe he did want her, if this was how he made her feel every time he came so close.
Yes, she knew she was supposed to be keeping her distance, but it was impossible when his kiss was a thing of magic, bringing her to life each time.
Slowly, he pressed forward, bending her back until she lay on the stone bench. The weight of him above her was a wondrous thing, her hands sliding down the tense, powerful muscles of his arms.
He dipped his head to trace kisses down the curve of her neck before coming back up the column of her throat. Searing grazes that arched her back and made breath compete with moans, her body tingling from head to toe.
“Do you see what you do to me?” he purred close to her ear. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
He tilted his hips forward, and a gasp escaped her throat. A friction sparked between her thighs, the sensation of something hard, something that strained against her.
Those wretched metaphors.
She thought of her books and how they would never quite explain what now piqued her curiosity.
A rough hand pulled on the seam of buttons that ran down the front of her nightdress. They popped at his will, though she didn’t hear any scatter to the ground.
“As if I don’t want you,” he murmured as his hand slid under the flimsy fabric, his warm, calloused palm smoothing over the swell of her breasts.
Her breath hitched at the touch, suddenly aware that they were out in the open. Then again, it was dark, and the shy moon had seen fit to hide behind some clouds. The walls of the garden offered plenty of cover, as did the trees that rose higher than the bricks.
“Oh!” she gasped, feeling the warmth of his mouth. Not at all where she had expected.
He pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, a ricochet of pleasure firing through her. Her back arched higher off the bench, inadvertently—or perhaps fortuitously—angling her hips so she felt that torturous brush of hardened mystery once more.
“Your Grace,” she moaned, her fingernails digging into his arms. “Oh, Your Grace…”
“Philip,” he growled. He sucked again. “Or my husband.”
She bit her lip as he sucked harder, her hips bucking.
“Yes, Philip!” she cried out. “Oh, yes!”
He unpinned the fastening of her cloak, the sides falling and draping over the edges of the bench. Then, as his mouth moved to tend to her other breast, his hand slid down that line of buttons, undoing the rest of them one by one… all the way to the last.
The nightdress fell apart, joining the cloak in making a makeshift drape for the bench.
Cool night air whispered across her bare skin, the thrill of it heightening her senses. The idea that someone might walk through the garden gate at any moment or be peering out of their window was a titillating thing, adding to the urgency.
Yet, Philip seemed unhurried.
He lifted up to catch her mouth with his, crushing a hard kiss to her lips, his tongue dancing with hers. She held him there for a moment, savoring him, indulging herself.
“Do you feel wanted yet?” he whispered.
Breathless, she peered up into his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but she had a feeling he was teasing her.
“Not yet,” she replied with a smirk.
A dark chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “Well then…”
He kissed away from her mouth, his tongue tasting the skin of her throat, leaving tingling spots for the night air to cool like a second kiss.
Moving down the valley between her breasts, he paused to flick his tongue against an erect nipple before continuing his slow exploration. His mouth grazed her skin—a most intoxicating, bewildering feeling.
When a maid touched her to help her dress, her skin did not respond like this. When she applied oils after her bath or brushed something off her skin, there was no lightning-bolt sensation awakening every nerve, connecting every part of her to a deep, pulsing center of pleasure.
That ought to be studied.
She almost laughed, imagining society’s outrage at the mere suggestion.
Philip crawled backward, removing that delicious weight from her and positioning himself on his knees at the end of the bench. Not once did his kisses falter, moving ever downward.
Selina yelped as he eased his arms under her thighs, curved them back over the swell of her hips, and pulled her closer to him.
She was about to ask what he was doing, about to urge him to come back to her so she could feel his body above her, when he kissed the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.
“Oh… oh, goodness…” she panted, a glorious shiver running up the center of her.
She held her breath as he kissed his way up her inner thigh… and she felt the first brush of his tongue against a part of her that she had only vaguely known existed. An awareness that puzzled her whenever she rode a horse, that she had been too shy to explore in the privacy of her bedchamber.
Her hands gripped the edge of the bench, rocked by the potent rush of bliss that crackled through her. It really was like her personal lightning, forking through her, igniting her very soul.
He tasted her again, a slow roll of his tongue over a throbbing bundle of nerves.
“Oh, God… Oh…” she moaned, her neck arching.
She had never felt anything like it. Never read about anything like it. Not that words on a page could ever have lived up to this, the flesh and blood reality of his touch and his tongue stirring a world of pleasure within her.
His tongue curled around that secret bud, and he sucked gently. She bucked as if she had no control over her own body, thrashing at the intensity. When he rolled his tongue again, the sensation was tenfold, her head swimming, her lungs burning, her limbs trembling.
But he was not finished showing her how much he wanted her.
Just as she was settling into the stirring rhythm of his tongue, he eased one arm out from underneath her thigh. For a moment, his fingertips skimmed her inner thigh and came to circle her slick, eager entrance.
Her breath caught in her throat as he eased a finger inside her, paused for a second, then pushed another into her hot depths.
“Oh!” she cried out, overwhelmed in the best possible way.
After a moment or two, he slowly began to move his fingers in a steady pulse, curling them in such a way that a fresh surge of crackling pleasure pooled with the rest. She did not know what it was building toward, but there was a feeling of something rising inside her.
All the while, his tongue tended to her swollen bud in measured strokes, stoking her up into a frenzy.
She gripped the edge of the bench harder, panting as that unknown sensation grew and grew, soaring toward a peak. There was no way it could go on forever; she would not be able to endure so many sensations indefinitely.
Then, it struck her. A ferocious wave of absolute ecstasy, cresting within the core of her being and hurtling outward through her every limb and nerve, until she lay shaking on the bench.
“Oh God… Oh, Philip… Oh… Oh!”
Her muscles tensed, and her back arched up, her eyes closing as that powerful sensation swept back and forth. The most incredible feeling in all the world. Something she might never have known about if she had continued to stubbornly avoid the man who was to be her husband.
Gradually, the stroke of his tongue slowed, and the pulse of his fingers eased, while the force of her conclusion ebbed.
She collapsed back onto the bench and let go of the stone edges, draping her arm over her stomach while her other hand moved to rest on her racing heart. Her eyes opened, and she stared up at the starry sky, the moon peeking out.
She smiled.
With care, Philip withdrew his fingers. He tasted her one last time, then turned his head to kiss along her inner thigh. From there, he took his time to kiss his way back up to her mouth, allowing her the bliss of feeling his weight on her once more.
He kissed her lips in a sensual, almost lazy brush. She smiled against his mouth as she kissed him back, her arms loosely looped around his neck.
“Do you believe that I want you yet?” he asked in a silky voice.
She chuckled and nodded. “I am convinced.”
“Good.”
To her pleasant surprise, he folded the sides of her nightdress across her bare body, fastening just one button to keep it in place. As if he were concerned about her getting cold.
She worried, however, that he might be about to pull away. Instead, he scooped her up off the bench and set her in his lap, his arms locked around her, his lips kissing her throat.
Holding onto him, she met his beautiful eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can,” he replied, turning his kiss to her shoulder.
“Will you be a faithful husband?”
It was a shame to ruin the mood, but she needed to know what the future held for her. She needed to prepare if she was going to have to share him. Especially now. Especially after that.
He glanced at her, saying nothing.
“If we are to lead separate lives,” she hurried to continue, “then you should tell me. You should not let me enter into this marriage under false pretenses. And if we are to lead separate lives, then… we should at least be discreet and respect one another.”
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Mary is gone, love,” he said. “She will not work or live here anymore.”
“Oh… oh, I see.”
She hadn’t disliked Mary, but it was something of a relief. So much so that she felt a little bad for being so delighted. But if it meant what she hoped it meant, then she would soon forgive herself.
Smiling, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him slowly, passionately. Not a rush or a frenzied crush, but a thing to savor and relish, melting into his embrace, so content and relaxed that she knew she would sleep well tonight.
What might have been five minutes or half an hour later, he pulled back, gazing at her. “We should get you inside before you start shivering.”
“I suppose so,” she replied, reaching back to collect her cloak.
Philip took it from her, draping it around her shoulders. He took great care to fasten it at her throat, and as he set her on the ground and stood up with her, he paused and brought her hand to his mouth.
“I am glad your father threatened to kill me if I didn’t take this very hand in marriage,” he said.
Selina laughed, her heart opening to the man before her. “I could not agree more.”