Chapter Twenty-Two
Lydia understood. She understood very well.
In her years of slipping away from society events to hide in shadowed corners, she’d witnessed more than a few clandestine interludes between impulsive, desperate lovers.
The first few times, her curiosity inspired her to watch.
But after that, she couldn’t help but wonder what would inspire people to be so stupidly reckless.
Now, she knew.
It was this. The fire in her blood. The tight ache in her low belly. The hollow yearning in her core. This restless need consuming her.
All she wanted was him.
His hands on her. His mouth. His body.
Somewhere in the far recesses of her mind, she knew he would keep her safe. He wouldn’t want to face the consequences of being seen any more than she did. He was not a marrying type.
So, she gave herself over to the sharp craving inside her and surrendered to his experienced guidance.
As his fingers stroked along her wet folds, circling her swollen clitoris, teasing entry to the depths of her, a part of her was still vaguely aware of the music drifting through the open door.
She heard moments of laughter and could see the swath of light streaming across the balcony behind his broad shoulders.
Being so close to all of that while doing something so decadently wicked was…
Intensely arousing.
A throb of pleasure pulsed deep inside her as a flood of moisture met his seeking fingers.
He muffled a heavy, graveled moan against her throat and his fingers stilled, pressing intimately against her but not plunging into her as she desperately wanted. She rolled her hips in a needful motion, whimpering at the subtle friction.
His voice was dark and thickly textured with his own desire as he gazed through her eyes to her soul. “Don’t make a sound,” he growled. “Cover your mouth if you must. Remember the risk.”
Then he dropped to his knees, shoved her skirts up to her waist, and leaned in to cover her with his skillful mouth.
She very well might have collapsed right then as pleasure speared through her and her legs turned to jelly, if he hadn’t been holding her firmly to the wall with his hands buried in silk and satin.
His mouth was intensely hot. Ravenous. There were no sweet, teasing kisses.
No gentle licks. His tongue plunged deep.
He devoured and feasted on her tingling, aching flesh.
He demanded her response and it was given freely.
In tingling waves and hungry pulses that gripped his fingers when he finally thrust them inside her.
Her gasp brought her hand to her mouth.
The second twisting thrust of his fingers forced her to bite into the fleshy part at the base of her thumb as her body tightened.
As he suckled and twirled his tongue over her sensitive, needful sex, he curled his fingers inside her, pressing firmly to a spot behind her pubic bone, and she lost all control.
The pleasure was so deep and lush and heavy, it flooded from her.
He groaned his satisfaction and took her more fully into his mouth, swallowing her release and drawing on every nerve until another rush of pleasure exploded in a delicate rain of sparks and light that split her into a million stars.
Her awareness returned slowly through a heavy haze.
He remained on his knees, kissing her gently now with soft licks and stroking his fingers in a soothing rhythm. Until her legs ceased shaking and her breath became less frantic and gasping. Then he pressed a sweet kiss to her belly before lowering her skirts and rising to his feet.
He glanced behind him as he did so, and she was suddenly reminded of where they were.
The thought of how easily they could have been caught was terrifying and still arousing! She trembled as another wave of lust flowed through her. She couldn’t keep herself from tilting her pelvis toward him.
She’d been gifted a stunning, mind-stealing release, but she wanted more. She wanted his cock.
Without thinking, she brought her hand to the front of his breeches. And gasped at the steel-like length she found there.
His grunt and subtle shiver made her smile.
But when he rocked into her palm and dropped his forehead to hers as he gripped her waist in strong, possessive hands, she melted.
“Edmund,” she whispered.
His shoulders drew back just a bit, and he lifted his head to look into her eyes.
It was the first time she’d said his name. She was surprised by how much she liked the taste and feel of it in her mouth.
While he looked…stricken. But then he smiled and thrust his hips against her. She felt the full length and shape of him. Her lashes fluttered and her lips parted as she tried to curl her fingers around him.
His grunt was deep and guttural. He cleared his throat. “What’ve you learned?”
Lydia heard the accent in his voice and it warmed her. She stroked her hand along his impossibly hard length as she replied. “I like taking risks,” she murmured, her voice sounding odd—sultry and needful.
His breath seemed to stop as his cock throbbed heavily against her palm. His hands flexed and released around her waist. “How long until you’re missed?”
“Missed?” she asked as she rubbed her thumb back and forth over his broad tip.
His words were choked and stuttered. “By your mother.”
The mention of the marchioness sent a shiver of ice down her spine. She tried to resist its effect—stay in the moment with him. But the damage was done. She dropped her head back against the ivy-covered wall and sighed.
He instantly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a strong embrace. One hand lifted to cover the back of her head as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. His lips pressed to her temple.
It should’ve felt awkward. Lydia had never been terribly comfortable with physical tenderness. Not even with Bridget or Eleanor. But this felt right. Comforting and bracing and oddly needed.
“I have to go,” he muttered, “before we push our luck too far. Wait here until you’re ready to go back in. I will come to you again tonight.”
She didn’t try to reply.
He pulled back enough to press a kiss to her lips.
She just caught the taste of her essence before he withdrew from her and stepped away.
In long strides, he crossed the balcony to the far end where steps led down to the garden level.
She watched until he was swallowed by the night.
Then she slumped against the wall and tried to reclaim some connection to reality.