Chapter Twenty-Two
That went quite well, Genevieve assured herself as she hurried down the dark hall to her chamber, hoping she didn’t run into any servants, or God forbid, Lady Davenport.
Jonathan Davenport was falling for her; she was certain of it. There was the gentle tone in his voice, and the way his breath hitched when they were close. As if that weren’t proof enough, there was the soft affection in his gaze, which sometimes morphed into barely restrained passion.
A shiver of delight stopped her in her tracks. Quickly composing herself, she picked up her pace.
She probably shouldn’t have barged in on him, but she’d been afraid someone would hear her knocking, and then discover her lurking outside his chamber.
Therefore, she’d charged in uninvited, finding him naked with a pillow covering his manly bits.
Heat shot from her core to her cheeks at the memory of his bared limbs and chiseled chest splayed across his bed like a surprise holiday buffet.
Doing her best to remain quiet, she stifled her moan, slid into her chamber, and gently closed the door. As the latch clicked into place, Horatio, who was lying near the hearth, opened his eyes.
“Good, you are awake. I have so much to tell you.”
Horatio yawned and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he was snoring.
Was it terribly rude to awaken a sleeping dog because she desperately wanted to talk to him? Probably a lot less rude than barging in on a naked viscount while he was trying to sleep.
But she couldn’t help herself. She’d been desperate to make sure her voice still worked, especially now that she was cautiously letting down her guard and testing her boundaries.
“Horatio, I told him my given name,” she whispered. “And it felt wonderful. He said it was beautiful.” He had also told her that she was beautiful.
Then, pushing her boundaries to their zenith, Genevieve had drawn a heart.
Her behavior had been brazen, but being vulnerable was worth it since now he knew how she felt.
There was something liberating about communicating the entirety of her feelings for once.
She was so proud of herself that on the morrow, she might test another boundary.
“Horatio, what should I do next?”
He opened one eye and sighed.
“Fine. We will talk in the morning.” Chuckling, she hung her shawl over the back of her chair.
She was just about to snuff the candles, when the door latch wriggled, startling her. A second later, Jonathan stepped into her room. Exuding feral energy, he stood in the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He closed the door behind him. On bare feet, he prowled toward her. “Why didn’t you lock your door?”
Before she had time to remind him that he hadn’t locked his either, he charged, wrapping her in his arms. He slammed his mouth over hers, devouring her lips with hungry kisses. Melting against him, she threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him back with equal fervor.
They were both panting when he pulled back to gaze into her eyes. “I love you, Genevieve.”
“I know.” She smiled.
He chuckled. “You do, do you?”
“Yes. And it’s about time you realized it.”
“Minx.” He rubbed his nose over hers.
With a contented sigh, she nuzzled his nose back. “I love you too, Jonathan.”
“Thank Christ.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you had told me you hated me.”
“I could never hate you, you silly goose,” she taunted.
He sobered. “Seriously, I’ve been a fool. Just because I’ve never wanted to pledge myself to one woman, doesn’t mean I can’t do it when the right woman comes along. And you, my darling, are the right woman for me.”
Please let this be true. She was far from perfect—very far—but she would do her best to be worthy of his affection. Showering him with the love he deserved was a start.
“I convinced myself that you were delicate and I would hurt you.” The sincerity in his eyes matched his gentle tone, stealing her breath.
“I was afraid that my touch would soil your purity. But tonight, it dawned on me that you are resilient and unbreakable. You, Genevieve, are the bravest woman I know.”
Thank heavens, because as a woman of one and twenty, she didn’t want him to see her as an innocent incapable of sensuality, especially since his presence made her so very wanton. She may have been fragile a few months ago, but currently, she felt invincible.
“What a pair we are.” She pressed her palms against his chest, absorbing the vibrations of his thumping heart—a heart that pumped kindness and generosity through his veins.
“An intelligent, kind man who thinks he is a brainless scoundrel, and a brave woman who has convinced herself she is a coward. Ironic, don’t you think? ”
“Indeed. However, I don’t just think I am a scoundrel. I am one. Times ten.” His gaze fixed on her bosom.
“Was a scoundrel. Now, you are a gentleman.” A gentleman who was gawking as if he meant to pounce and devour her.
She peered down to see what had him so enthralled.
Nipples that tingled atop breasts that had grown heavy with need poked through the sheer fabric of her nightdress.
Jonathan should be the one to solve her problem since he was responsible for it.
She fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly. “Now that you have come to your senses, why don’t you tell me more about those indecent things you want to do to me?”
“Oh, darling, you have no idea what you are opening yourself up to. You should probably prepare yourself.”
His chuckle vibrated through her core in the most delicious of taunts.
“Tell me.” The sensual rasp of her demand took her by surprise. Who would have guessed that a flirtatious vixen resided beneath her anxiety-ridden compunction?
He leaned close, his lips cupping her ear. “I want to explore those beautiful breasts and listen to you gasp as I suckle from those pert nipples.”
Fabulous, because that should ease her overwhelming ache.
“I want to drink the sweet dew from between your thighs. Lap up every delicious drop.”
Desire was definitely making her wet down there.
“And then”—his voice was so deep, it rumbled—“I want you to stare into my eyes while I slide my cock into your quim and fuck you until you scream my name.”
She gasped more from desire than surprise.
His lips crooked up on one side, forming a twisted grin worthy of the most scandalous of rogues. “Are you thoroughly shocked?”
Not at all. Truth be told, she was rather proud that she’d elicited such a reaction.
“I want those things, too,” she confessed as she ran her finger along his jaw.
He nipped at her finger. “Now that we have that settled…”
While peppering her shoulder with scorching kisses, he lifted her nightdress over her head. The fabric slid from his grasp to land at their feet. All the while, his gaze seared her bare flesh.
Fingers trembling, she helped him out of his shirt, her gaze glued to the dips and swells of his muscular torso. He pushed his trousers down his legs and stepped over them. As he straightened, his manhood sprang to attention, large, thick, and awe-inspiring in its magnificence. She swallowed hard.
Growling, he pulled her to him, his skin hot against hers.
Kissing a path to the sensitive crook of her neck, he licked and nibbled until her knees buckled.
Without pausing his attentive lips, he steadied her.
His arousal pushed into her belly, throbbing like a beating heart.
She trembled with a heady mixture of fear and excitement.
Jonathan nudged her backward, fervently kissing her until she lay on her back, her calves and feet hanging over the footboard.
Leaving her shivering and so very lonely, he stepped back. She pushed onto her elbows to see what had stolen his focus. He stared down at her, the need in his eyes matching her own.
Holding her gaze, he dropped to his knees. His lips brushed her inner thighs, bestowing hot little kisses. Then his gaze slid to her nether curls, and he licked his lips. “Do you trust me?”
If he were about to drink the “sweet dew” from between her thighs, would she let him?
It took her less than a second to decide. Yes, she most definitely would. Because she trusted him. “With my life,” she said.
“Splendid.” Pressing on her thighs, he opened them wide and situated his shoulders between them. “Relax, my darling, Genevieve,” he said, his baritone mesmerizing and soothing.
She braced herself for his touch. Still, it caught her unaware, the foreign sensation hitting her like a bolt of velvet lightning.
He teased her quim with gentle strokes, awakening deep primal desires she wasn’t even aware she possessed.
Want coursed through her like a relentless tsunami pounding against a sandy beach.
He parted her folds. “Beautiful,” he said, his breath warming her delicate insides. “Like flower petals.” Slowly, he slid his finger inside her.
She had touched herself a few times over the years, but it had never felt this heavenly. Her cunny walls quivered.
“Mmm,” he murmured. “Hot, and wet. Is that all for me, my beautiful Blue?”
“Yes,” she whispered as she writhed.
His finger brushed over her sensitive nub.
“Oh, my.”
“Ah.” Smiling, he circled his finger over the secret spot, coaxing utterances from her. “That’s it, darling. Just lean back and relax. Let me make you feel good.”
But how could she relax when she wanted to watch him watching her, his sensual green eyes hooded and filled with lust?
He draped her knees over his shoulders, exposing her insides to both the cool air and his intense perusal. Using his thumbs, he spread the folds of her sex. He trailed his worshipping lips over her thighs and then slipped his tongue inside her.
She cried out with unbridled ecstasy.
Talk about pushing her boundaries—a man had his tongue inside her. Deep inside her. And she was encouraging him to do sinful things as she held his head in place and ground her mound against his face.