The Winter Wish (8 page)

Before
she gave herself time to come to her senses, Sarah’s hand shot across the
nightstand and she rang the bell.

CHAPTER NINE

The
seconds that passed between the time she rang the bell and Devlin knocked at
the door were the longest of Sarah’s life. Uncertain whether she should be in
the bed or out, she hovered at the foot of it, her fingers twisting anxiously
behind her back while she fought to steady her breathing.

At
the sound of a hand rapping softly against the door she jumped like a startled
doe and had to clear her throat twice before she managed to croak, “Come in.”

Devlin
slipped into the room. The fire cast his profile into shadow, but there was
enough light for Sarah to see he had changed clothes as well. His white linen
shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the cuffs, as if he had
been working before she summoned him. A lock of dark hair curled over one eye,
giving him a rakish appearance, and as he stepped towards her he swept it back
with an impatient flick of his wrist.

“You
are awake.” His gaze swept down her body, studying her as intimately as she had
just studied him, and Sarah fought the maidenly urge to cover herself. “How do
you feel?”

“I…
Much b-better. I feel much better.” Sarah took a step back and bumped into the
mattress. Wrapping one hand around the carved mahogany bedpost to steady
herself, she managed what she hoped was an entrancing smile and said, “Thank
you for helping me. I do not know what would have h-happened if you had not
come along.”

Devlin
shook his head. “There is no need to thank me. I hope you do not mind, but I
had one of the maids change you out of your dress. I did not want you to catch
a chill from sleeping in damp clothing. I can even give you my word I was not
in the room at the time.”

“Did
you want to be?”

“Did
I want to be what?”

Feeling
as though a thousand butterflies were dancing in her belly, Sarah bit her lip
and blurted out, “In the room.”

Devlin’s
eyes widened ever so slightly. “I… That is to say… Is there anything you need,
Lady Dawson?”

It
was now or never. Looking Devlin straight in the eye, Sarah drew a deep,
steadying breath even as her knees trembled and her heart threatened to beat
right out of her chest. “You,” she whispered. “I need you.”

This
time there was no mistaking the Viscount’s shock at Sarah’s forwardness. His
entire body stiffened and he took one step towards her before he stopped
himself, jaw clenching tight. “Lady Dawson, you do not know what you are
saying.”

Now
that she had admitted her deepest, darkest desire Sarah felt as if a great
weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Of their own accord her feet began
to move, carrying her purposefully across the distance that separated her from
Devlin. His arms remained rigid at his sides, the only sign he was having
difficulty controlling himself in the clenching and unclenching of his fists.

Tipping
her chin up Sarah studied the fathomless depths of his stormy blue eyes and
what she saw caused her lips to curve and an unprecedented sense of confidence
to settle serenely on her shoulders.

“Call
me Sarah.” She raised her hands and pressed them flat against Devlin’s chest.
He inhaled sharply at her touch, and Sarah’s smile grew. Through the thin
fabric of his shirt she could feel his heartbeat. It thundered under her palms,
revealing Devlin was not quite as composed as he would have her believe. “And I
know exactly what I am saying.”

“Sarah…”
he spoke her name on a ragged breath, his expression pained as he gazed down
upon her. “Are you certain? I do not want you to regret—”

Sarah
rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to Devlin’s, effectively silencing
him. For a fleeting moment he did not move, and she hesitated, suddenly unsure
if she had been mistaken in her assumption that he desired her as much as she
did him, but then on a muffled groan his arms closed around her slender body
and he pulled her into his embrace.

For
Sarah, whose only experience with kissing came from what she had heard
whispered at tea parties and balls, the sensation of having Devlin’s lips
contoured to hers was blissfully new and exciting. She had no idea what to do,
but he guided her patiently, running his tongue along her bottom lip, nibbling
at the corners of her mouth, and – surprises of all surprises – kissing
inside
her mouth.

His
hands moved in soothing strokes up and down her spine, slipping lower and lower
with every pass. Instinctively Sarah moved closer to him, pressing her body tight
against his and winding her fingers up through his hair.

Firelight
bathed them, flickering over their joined silhouette as Devlin easily scooped
Sarah up and carried her to the bed. He laid her upon the mattress with
reverence, his gaze boldly traveling the length of her delicate frame before he
stretched out beside her, wrapping one arm around her ribcage while the other
cupped the back of her head.

“Relax,”
he whispered against her ear before he lowered his head to nip at the exposed
curve of her neck. Sarah shuddered, then sighed with pleasure as he pressed his
mouth to hers and drew her tongue to his. “You taste like honey.” The hand at
her waist began to slowly wander up towards the swell of her breasts. He cupped
one and then the other, his thumb flicking over her hardened nipples through
the soft cloth of her nightgown while she arched her back and gasped in wonder
at the feelings he was bringing to life inside of  her, as if she were a violin
and he a musician, plucking notes from her body she had never even known
existed.

With
a deft pull Devlin undid the laces at the top of her nightgown, baring her
shoulders and breasts to his hungry gaze. “Beautiful,” he murmured as his
fingers trailed over her creamy flesh, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“Perfect.” When his mouth followed his fingers Sarah’s eyes flew open in shock
and quickly darkened with pleasure. She was burning from the inside out, her
body aching for someone she could not put into words.

As
Devlin teased her nipples with his tongue her hands began to explore the rest
of his body. She trailed her fingertips with cautious excitement down between
his shoulder blades, her nails digging into his skin until she felt the muscles
bunch and quiver. Gaining confidence she reached further, skimming down across
his sides and over the flat plane of his stomach. She felt the button on his
trousers, cool and hard against her flesh, and – determined to give as good as
she was getting – slipped her hand inside.

“Oh
God,” Devlin rasped out as her fingers tentatively brushed the length of his
manhood.

“I
am sorry.” Sarah’s hand retreated as if she had been burned, but on a throaty groan
he captured her wrist and wrapped her palm around the hard, hot length of him.
She stroked his cock slowly, unsure of how much pressure to apply or even where
exactly to touch, but if Devlin’s ragged breathing was any indication she was
not doing too poor of a job.

The
power of bringing him pleasure was a thrill unto itself and Sarah grew heady
with it until Devlin twisted his hips abruptly away. He braced his arms on either
side of her head, his strained expression tainted with disbelief.

“Are
you certain you are a virgin?” 

Perhaps
it was not the most romantic of questions, but Sarah chose to take it as a
compliment. “Quite sure,” she said, her lips curving, and Devlin captured her
mouth for another lusty kiss that left her breathless and a bit dazed by the
time he reared back and stripped away her nightgown, leaving her bare to his
gaze.

For
a moment she was self conscious and her arms crept down of their own accord to
cover her breasts while heat bloomed across her chest. Devlin merely shook his
head and gently pulled her hands away, placing them on his now bare shoulders,
for he had removed his own clothes as well, a fact that was contributing to the
blush that spread like wildfire across Sarah’s collarbone and neck.

“Never
hide yourself from me,” he ordered sternly, his eyes flashing blue black in the
flickering light.

Sarah
worried her bottom lip. “I… It is just—”

“I
want to look at you. I
need
to look at you.” And so began an exploration
of her body so thorough, so tantalizingly erotic, that Sarah was quite mindless
by the time Devlin was through. He left no inch of skin untouched. His hands
were everywhere, his mouth quick to follow.

When
one finger gently slipped through her curls down
there
she went stiff as
a board, relaxing only when he whispered sweet assurances and began to stroke
her as she had stroked him, and oh, how different it felt to be the one
receiving pleasure. It rolled over her in waves, intensifying as his finger
slipped
inside
of her, gentle at first, before quickening in pace and
depth until she arched off the mattress and cried out his name.

But
everything Sarah had felt thus far was nothing…
nothing
… compared to the
electricity that jolted through her body when his lips replaced his finger and
his tongue lapped at the core of her. He nibbled, licked, and teased while she
writhed, tossing her head from side to side and tangling her fingers in his
dark hair.

At
last, only when Sarah was all but begging for something she could not put into
words did Devlin lift his head and stretch up the length of her body. He
adjusted himself smoothly on top of her, and then he was
in
her,
pressing ever so steadily into the tight, narrow recess of her womanhood,
whispering soothingly into her ear, stroking her hair, her arms, her breasts.

The
pain was minimal; a quick burning sensation that vanished as quickly as it had
appeared for he had prepared her body with expert finesse. She was ready for
him. Wet for him. Crying out for him. They began to move in a sinuous rhythm,
thrusting and receiving, giving and taking, gasping and pleading, until, in
perfect unison, they sought their release together.

CHAPTER TEN

The
next morning Lily came to call.

With
Sarah relaxing in the bath and the entire staff delayed by the storm that had
buried London in snow overnight, it was left to Devlin to answer the incessant
knocking. He did so with a grimace and a grumble, pulling a shirt over his head
seconds before flinging the door wide and glaring daggers at the brunette
waiting on the other side.

“This
had better be an emergency,” he snapped.

“Oh,
it is,” Lily assured him before she swept past without waiting for an
invitation, trailing snow in her wake. Swinging her cloak off her shoulders she
held it out to Devlin as if he were the butler. He took it grudgingly, as well
as the hat, gloves, and muff that followed.

Dumping
everything rather unceremoniously in the nearest chair, he wiped his hands dry
on the sides of his trousers, crossed his arms, and waited for an explanation. 

Lily
took her time with it. She wandered in a circle around the large foyer,
studying everything from the ornate chandelier that hung from the vaulted
ceiling to the collection of crystal ducks – Devlin had a secret fondness for
the odd little animal – that were perched high on a shelf. When she had
completed her circuit she finally turned to address him. “Sarah is here,” she
said without preamble.

“Yes,”
Devlin acknowledged with an annoyed dip of his head. He recognized Lady Kincaid
now that she was divested of her outer garments. She had been with Sarah in the
park, and then again at the ball. He thought he might have even danced with her
once, but he could not be certain. How she had tracked her friend here he had
no idea, but he was quite eager for her to leave. Unfortunately, she did not
seem in any great hurry.