WAS SHE READY? SHEfelt as if she was in a dream. None of this felt real. She had admired Lord Andrew from afar for three consecutive seasons. She had seen him blaze a trail of charm across ballrooms. He would always arrive late, dance with a few wallflowers, dazzling them out of their shyness, flirt outrageously with elderly matrons until they were blushing and simpering like debutantes, and then depart. As bright and swift as a shooting star.
A few times she had spotted him at the theater, always accompanied by some ravishing beauty of dubious reputation. And she had always known she had no chance on this earth to catch his attention. She hadn’t even received one of the charity dances he bestowed upon wallflowers, even though she was certainly one.
And then suddenly, in one night, she had not only attracted his attention. He wanted to court her! Him, the most elusive bachelor of the Ton. Never in a million years would she have thought it possible.
If she accepted, and he later ended their courtship, it would devastate her. If she accepted? Like she had any choice in the matter. Her heart had already decided for her.
“Right, then. You may call on me tomorrow,” she rasped.
His smile was brilliant, transforming his already handsome face to stunning. When he smiled like that, she was sure every woman on earth would fall in with his wishes.
“Why don’t we get out of here? I’ll take you to your home now.” He took her hand and deposited a very proper kiss on her knuckles. Proper if one didn’t consider the hot steam of his breath, sending a shiver up her arm.
“So soon? I haven’t explored–”
He interrupted her sentence with a swift kiss. “I’ll let you explore in the carriage. I’ll do some explorations of my own. Trust me, sweet; I’ll satisfy every question you have ever had.”
“Oh.”
The way he said it, the flame in his eyes...she had no doubt he would make good on his promise.
Ten minutes later, they were once again ensconced in the opulent luxury of his carriage. He sat next to her, not in the opposite seat, as propriety demanded. But then, they had already tossed propriety out the window.
Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, he closed the drapes on his side of the carriage, then leaned over her to close them on her side as well. The movement brought his face close to hers. So close she could observe the texture of his skin, where it turned darker with the shadow of a beard. So close she could smell the spicy scent of his cologne, heated by his skin.
The closed drapes shuttered them into a world of low light, gilded panels and dark velvet. And heated gazes, and need. She didn’t know who moved first. They probably moved at the same time, and suddenly their mouths fused, straining against each other.
There was no slow build up this time. The kiss started carnal, open-mouthed and needful, and only picked up steam from there. His tongue breached her mouth to slide sensuously against hers, tempting, inviting her to do the same, to explore the forbidden recesses of his mouth. When she timidly licked his lips, he sucked on her tongue, over and over, in a caress her body recognized and responded to. Another part of her body, one at the center of her being, started throbbing. Begging for relief.
When she thought she could not withstand another minute of the ecstatic torture, his lips released her tongue, only for his fingers to bite on her bottom lip. Not too hard, but enough for her to feel the sensation to her core. His teeth scraped against her flesh before he let go of her lip.
His mouth traveled to the sensitive underside of her ear to whisper, sinfully dark. “Let me touch you. Let me bring you pleasure, my goddess.”
“We have no time...” it was a weak protest. At this moment, she was desperate for his touch. But the possibility of discovery scared her.
“I’ve ordered the coachman to drive around until I give him the order to take you home.”
“Oh. Then yes. Touch me.” Her ragged whisper had him groaning in her ear. His hands skated over her torso, skimming over her breasts. Her nipples had become sensitive pebbles, straining for his touch against the fabric of her corset. He rubbed his palm over them. But the layers of material muted the caress. It wasn’t enough. She needed more.
When he pinched her nipples through her garments, her needy moan stoked his frenzy. His mouth bit her ear, then painted a trail of desire over her neck and chest. It wasn’t enough. What she wouldn’t give to have his mouth over her naked breasts.
Alas, it wasn’t possible. At least not in a carriage. Her corset was sturdy. Suffocatingly so. Her mother insisted on strong undergarments, to contain what she considered vulgarly large breasts. The multitude of laces and hooks that would have to be undone for him to have access to her naked flesh would be impractical to undertake in the carriage. When she got home tonight, she would have to touch herself, find surcease for the fire–
His hand, under the many layers of her skirts and petticoats, interrupted her delirious thoughts. Scattered them like dandelion fluff. Sliding up the inside of her leg, beyond her stockings, over her drawers...
“May I?” he rasped against her lips.
An exhaled yes escaped from her lips, and her legs opened in invitation, an invitation that he accepted with alacrity. She held her breath as he found the opening and expertly undid the laces. The first contact of his fingers with her aching flesh had them both groaning.
“Fuck, you are so wet,” he breathed against her ear as his fingers commenced a delicious dance over her slick flesh. Dancing over her folds, playing with her opening, then coming to slide against her bud with masterful strokes. It didn’t take long for her to feel the tightening, the climbing towards the marvelous peak from where she could fly free...
His finger slid away, making her start a protest that dissolved into a gasp when the tip of his finger breached her. The foreign sensation made her tense for a second, before he resumed the caress.
“Shhh, relax. You are so tight. So deliciously tight and wet.”
“I can’t...need to...” His mouth was hard as he took her lips.
“I know what you need, and I’ll give it to you. It will feel better with my fingers inside your cunny.” So saying he slid his finger all the way in, she contracted her inner muscles, becoming accustomed to the sensation of having his finger in her. And then he moved his fingers in tandem, his thumb caressing her nub while the finger inside her stroke a point until now undiscovered.
