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The glass travelled to her mouth for a brief sip, her eyes veiled and away from his. He watched mesmerised as the liquid gained the access he craved. He rummaged for something to say as his head seemed to have gone blank while other parts of him stood to attention.
“This stethoscope thing doesn’t sound very effective.” He commented.
“The medical student, Louis Verdun, appeared hopeful.” She opined.
“What good can it bring if doctors already hear patients’ chests?” He insisted.
“As far as I understood, the device can make a doctor hear more and better to discover several other ailments.” She defended.
“You’re probably right.” He compromised.
And the conversation died away. Her chest lifted for a deep intake of air and Drake’s eyes filled with her beauty. This was one of his favourite dresses for her. The delicate silk induced him to feel it with his hands and explore her perfect curves. Over the high waist, the fabric outlined her plump breasts to a mouth-watering point. It was pure torture.
“Lady Millicent said the courtship is a ruse.” Her voice snapped him out of his reverie, and his eyes flipped to hers.
“Yes.” He confirmed. “She asked me to go along with it.” The circumstances were not his to tell, so he didn’t elaborate.
“Kindly of you to help, whatever her reasons.” She placed the delicate glass nearly full on the side-table.
“I couldn’t deny her even if it caused me some…loss.” An understatement if his craving was anything to go by.
Another silence fell, filling the air with everything the words didn’t say. Their attention on each other, they froze as though their bodies also locked away their secrets.
Suddenly, Hester left the settee. “I’ll take my leave.” And started walking to the door.
Quicker than her, he stood and neared her. “It’s early.” He rasped, his hands on her upper arms.
She stalled, her back to him, her shoulders rolled with her intake of air. But she didn’t shrug off his light touch.
His hands firmed on her as he inhaled her scent of roses and lemon, and he lowered his head to take more of it, ending up nuzzling her nape. Her head moved one degree to the right. It was a miserable degree, barely a move at all. It evinced a response though.
Resisting her at this moment would tear at him as if a butcher cut one of his arms. He pulled her to him, and her head fell on his chest. She was so petite; it felt like he dominated her and protected her at the same time. When they were in bed, this sent his self-control to Hades, and he'd lose himself in her heat.
“Do you remember us plastered to that wall?” He taunted.
It’d also been a soiree. One they’d been devouring each other with their eyes for hours on end. The last guest hadn’t even reached the front door, and Drake had caught Hester by the waist and put her spine up against the wall, kissing her as if it were the last day of his life. They’d consumed one another as if it was the last day of the sun.
“Yes.” She breathed, arching on him.
“We went insane that night.” His lips teased the sensitive skin, extracting a muffled moan from her.
His lips moved to the curve between her neck and shoulder where a pulse leapt frantically. He didn't kiss it. He nibbled on it, then suckled on it feather-like. One of his hands slid down her side, moulding to her ribs, her tiny waist, the flare of one hip, the silk miming poorly the smoothness of the skin beneath.
“Stay the night,” He rumbled as his mouth glided to the other side.
His fingers advanced to her thigh, splaying to take in its feminine shape.
“I-you—" She started.
His hand made the journey back upwards.
And then he cupped her breast. She gasped, seemly forgetting what she would say. His thumb teased the hardened crest over the blue silk.
“Drake,” she called while she pushed her chest into his hand.
“Hm.” His other arm held her by her waist, pulling her to cradle his mad erection.
She put one arm over his, fingers tangling with his. “I-I—” She tried again.
