The Seduction (28 page)

"You must help me." It was almost a
sob, as if her words swam in tears.

Without a word, he took one of her hands and
kissed the center of her palm. The touch of his mouth burned: soft, dry lips;
the moist flick of a tongue. The erotic charge made her legs shake - a simple
kiss to one hand, firing every nerve with the intense expectation of pleasure.

"Ι must sit down," she said.

"You won't fall. Ι will support
you."

"
Ι
am faint."

"Hush, hush. It is only the dark."

"Ι had not imagined so much
darkness," she whispered.

"Ι wanted to see you," he said
softly. "When Ι dreamed of us together, Ι visualized how you
would look without this-" He ran his palms down over her stays.
"Without these-" Her skirt rustled. "Without these-" His
hands smoothed up her stockinged legs, pushing her petticoats aside.

Sharp satisfaction flooded her bones. She took
one quick breath. In spite of the dark she looked down.
Ι saw you,
her
memory whispered,
peeling off your jacket and waistcoat and shirt, cutting
hay like a nature god. When later you lay at my feet, Ι never saw anything
so beautiful in my life. And then Ι found out how you had deceived me!

Over her chemise his firm palms stroked up her
thighs, then down again. Ripples of feeling followed them, making her gasp. She
bit her lip as his clever, experienced fingers lingered for a moment at her
waist. When his hands slid back down to her ankles, her hooped petticoat came
with them, falling in a heap about her feet.

"Hold on to my shoulders," he said.

"Alden-"

"Hush, Juliet.
Just feel it."

He caught her hands to place them one at a time
on each shoulder. His skin burned, but he felt solid, unshakable. While she
clung to that strength, he lifted each of her feet in turn and slipped off her
shoes. The heels clinked as they hit the floor.

Her stockinged roes curled as each sole sank into
the mound of discarded petticoat. Still kneeling, he took her right foot and
set it on his bent leg. Powerful thigh muscles flexed beneath her instep. His
heat scorched through her thin silk stocking, sending a conflagration over her
skin.

His palms rubbed firmly up her calves, stroking
first one leg, then the other. Strong fingers caressed her instep and rubbed
heel and ankle, only to move higher, and higher again, until he stroked the
back of her knee and the inside of her garter. Intense pleasure surged in
waves. She moaned into the darkness, clinging to his shoulders in case the
intense delight turned her legs into straw and made her forget her purpose.

Not yet! Not yet! Let him think he had won!

Yet she moaned again as his fingers touched her
naked thighs.

"May Ι remove your stockings?" His
voice was husky, choked.

Only her stockings - a reprieve! So not yet!
"Yes. Yes. If you like!"

Not yet!

Deftly he untied the knotted ribbons and slipped
them away. His palms caressed her naked calves as he slowly rolled down each
stocking. One by one he slid them off over her toes and set each foot back down
on her crumpled petticoat. Cool air kissed her bare skin, but beneath it a
white-hot fire consumed her to the bone.

Soon! Soon! Before the body's passion swept her
away

His fingers stroked her bare instep, making her
want to sob with pleasure. His mouth followed, kissing over her ankle and up,
up, until his lips scorched that tender, intimate spot at the back of her knee.

She cried out, an inarticulate groan.

"Alden-!"

His palms slid up her legs. Her skirts were
carried with them as he stood.

Chemise, petticoat, and gathers and gathers of
satin bunched and crushed in his hands to fold against her belly. Tiny blue
lights crackled suddenly, small leaps of electricity dancing over her skirts, flickering
about her petticoats, as if sparks leaped from his naked flesh to hers.
Answering flames roared in her blood as his fingers traveled firmly up the
backs of her thighs to cup her bare bottom.

Blue sparks danced madly in the dark. Her heart
thundered. The scent of lavender and cloves mixed headily with musk and that
deeply satisfying, clean male scent that was his alone.

He held her upright, her skirts crushed between
them, while his fingertips slipped down over her buttocks. Electric intensity
sparked after them, igniting passion, concentrating everything into one bright,
hot center of exquisite pleasure.

"Alden!"

He closed her mouth with a kiss.

Juliet kissed back, her mouth invaded, her
nakedness open to his fingers' clever exploration. Her breasts ached. Her skin
burned. She flamed in a conflagration of glittering, blue-sparking skirts,
supported against him, held up only by his strength. Her hands closed on his
shoulders, her fingertips sank into firm skin and muscles, while tiny blue
crackles fired in her nerves, popping like little cannon.

His hand slid under one thigh, lifting it in a
flashing rustle of petticoats. He hooked her knee over his naked hip, pushing
aside skirts as his fingers stroked her belly, then dropped lower to where she
was moist and willing. Faith! She was more than willing, carried away on a rush
of sensation, longing for the heavy weight of him, for his invasion.

Now was the moment to deny her own passion and
destroy all of his! Το leave him impotent, begging, mortified.
Now!

Juliet tore her mouth away and dropped her
forehead to his shoulder, sinking her nails into his arms. He lifted her
higher. Α velvety hardness nudged her naked flesh, seeking the intimate
yielding between her legs.

Now!
She must say it now:
You buffoon! You think
that Ι want you? You think Ι am eager for you? Is this the vaunted
potency of α rake? You leave me cold, indifferent. Hah! No wonder you have
used so many women. Obviously you cannot satisfy any of them-

Yet her breath clamored in her lungs. Her gasping
tongue wouldn't work. Dense, velvety darkness crackling with flickers of blue
flame consumed everything. The roaring burn of her own blood deafened.
Somewhere deep in her belly the need demanded - for more, more of those acute
sensations, that rush of pleasure and moisture and swelling that demanded to be
fulfilled. Essential need overwhelmed her, engulfed her in desperation.

He lifted her higher. Intimate heat flared. Her
body yearned to welcome his.

"Your wish is my command," he said - a
whisper, vulnerable, human, tender in the dark, asking permission. "Say
yes, Juliet."

Now!
Her lips moved. Her tongue brushed over his hot,
bare shoulder. She lifted her head as frantic yearning culminated ίη
her mouth to form one simple word. The rest fled - all of her revenge, all of
the cruel things she had planned to say-gone like dry grass before a flame.

"Yes," Juliet said.

Her toes lifted from the floor as with one lunge
he thrust inside, filling her.

Somewhere in the darkness a bell began to ring.
The sound saturated the dark room, reverberating in her shattered mind.
One.
. .
two
. . .

He held her still while the clock chimed. The
blue crackles disintegrated, leaving only pitch blackness. The burning stretch
between her legs consumed her, creating ripples of unbearably sweet sensation.
He held her impaled there, taking her weight while he filled her with ecstasy.
She dropped her head against his shoulder and felt the fine fire of his skin on
her face.

The chimes rang in her ears . . .
eight
.
. .
nine.
. .
ten
. . .

Her heart thundered, matching the tolling of that
distant alarm. Juliet clung to him, her thighs locked about his hips, her soul
inundated with rapturous sensuality.

His lips moved over her cheek, delicately, then
he kissed her once, quickly, on the mouth.

. . .
eleven
. . .
twelve.

"Midnight," he whispered.

CHAPTER TEN

HE
LOWERED HIMSELF BACK TO THE COUCH,
CARRYING HER with him so she straddled his hips, her skirts spread over their
thighs. Her fingers clung, absorbing the perfection of stark muscle and tendon,
while his hands kept her upright, supporting her as he held her impaled. Her
whole existence concentrated on that one pulsing fire where their bodies
joined, a focus of spellbinding sensation. Then his hands slid away, freeing
her to move.

She began to rock her hips, seeking more - more
intensity, more exhilaration. Her skirts crunched in a new haze of blue
crackles. The rush of their hot, mingled breath clamored in her ears. Forever,
forever, so long that she thought she might dissolve.

The sweet tension built. Musk and cloves. Running
water and lavender.

Liquid fire.

Her womb convulsed, over and over again. Until at
last she felt the rush of such an intense pleasure, she thought she might die.

"Juliet!"

The single name,
her
name, mingled with
her own inarticulate cry as at last his powerful contractions fused with hers.

Afterward he cradled her in his arms for a long
time, saying nothing, her head on his shoulder. Slowly he released fastenings,
untied laces. Every element of her clothing surrendered to his knowledgeable
fingers. Her dress slipped away, her white petticoat, her stays - each garment
gave up its hold on her limp body.

Sometimes he gently rolled her in order to pull
away the masses of fabric. She let him do it, malleable as a kitten, until
finally she curled against him clad only in her thin chemise, breasts crushed
against his chest.

In her belly, in her languorous limbs, in her
heart, all her distress had dissolved into deep satisfaction.

He pulled a soft cover from the couch and wrapped
them in it together.

"That was not what you intended, was
it?" he asked.

"No." She kissed his shoulder. His
flesh tasted salt on her lips. "Ι thought you would reject me. Ι
tried to allow you every opportunity to do so."

"Yes."

"Ι even put you on top, in
command."

"Ι know."

"Ι could not believe, after you
discovered what Ι had done, that you would be so generous."

She trailed her fingers over his chest.
"Ι did not intend to be."

"You are not unhappy?"

"Ι don't know." Her rational mind
had to wake up, with reluctance, as if from some spellbinding dream.
"Ι should be. Ι felt your-" She bit her lip. "Did you
lie when you said there could be no chance of a child?"

"Ι took precautions." His voice
rumbled beneath her ear. "Prettily tied on with blue ribbon, though you
couldn't see that, of course. "

"Oh." George had never used any such
thing. He had wanted, without success, to give her a baby. "So you were
not
quite
naked?"

"It's the kind of thing rakes know
about." He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Yet you risked even
that. Why?"

"Ι wanted you to win your wager."

"No, you didn't." His lips touched her
hairline, then teased at the corner of her eyebrow. "Can't you admit you
would make love just for yourself?"

She snuggled closer to his warmth, running one
hand over his delectable male skin. "Why? Ι thought you would rather
believe that Ι did it for you."

His laugh reverberated. "Lud! You certainly
don't owe me anything. Yet we don't need a cause to make love, Juliet. Desire
is reason enough."

She raised up on both elbows, whispering into the
dark. "Desire cost me everything Ι was born to - wealth, security, a
good marriage - and brought me nothing but poverty and hard work. Why do you
think Ι am interested in desire?"

"Because that's human nature. It's nothing
to be ashamed of."

"Desire made me run away with George."

"Ι thought you fled Lord Edward."

"There was that, of course. Something about
him terrified me. But Ι also wanted George to put his hands on my naked
body. Ι longed for it. Does that horrify you?"

His hands caught in her hair, pulling her head
down until his lips caressed her ear, then slid down the side of her neck.
"No, it delights me."

She digested that in silence for a moment.
"You don't think such desire wrong in a female?"

"We are all pleasure-seeking creatures,
Juliet, men and women. Shall we prove it again?"

She had no denials left. This time it was
languid, slow. He explored every inch of her body. She surrendered all control
to his clever hands and seeking mouth.

All those long lessons in Italy. What he learned
from the keen passions of the many women since, too many to count. All of that
wickedness and pleasure, more intense than honest people know. Perhaps you want
that, too. Just once. To sin in the dark with a stranger.