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He went back to kissing her as he put her back down on the floor sliding her along his own body, her middle caressing his rock-hard erection. He was past any common sense. Hunger and need drove him. Wanting all of her, he left her mouth and nearly devoured her neck with open mouth. Her head fell down while she sighed.
Her damned dress in the way, he tugged it down, baring her breast. She gasped; he touched it with reverence, caressing the hard nipple between thumb and forefinger.
She was going to die. This, or she’d evanesce in a sea of fire. His caress provoked her, melted her and created more need all at the same time. She emitted an impatient sound.
“I know, I know.” He grumbled.
And then his mouth fell on the globe, nibbling, sucking, torturing. She pressed his head down on her, consumed by sensation. Her hands sought to touch more of him. He had too much clothing on, but her fingers crept under his coat, touching his broad chest, revelling in the ripples of muscle.
He lifted her again, walked with her to a settee, sitting her there. Kneeing in front of her, he uncovered her other breast and treated it to maddening attention. The ache in her middle became unbearable. Restless, she contorted on the settee in search of something to alleviate her agony.
One of his hands crept under her dress and kept going up her legs, bringing her skirts with them. His deft fingers found her drawers and reached her hot, moist womanhood.
She startled and tried to sit up. “Shh. You will like it, I promise.” He muttered in her ear and nuzzled behind it.
The problem was that she was already enjoying it shamefully. His fingers circled right where she ached, as if a treatment for her desperation.
Soon, he cruelly stopped. She looked down at him and he had a wicked look in his clove eyes. Her skirts came bunched to her middle, her drawers torn; he brought her to the edge of her seat. She gasped with surprise and before she realised his intention, his mouth descended on her and hell met paradise in the flapping of his tongue. The insistence of his tongue made her crave something elusive. Delightful, his never stopping flapping dissipated her until she became a quivering bunch of nerves and need. Something neared, the sensation more acute. Explosion. Her body disintegrated in thousands of waves engulfing her. She arched back, head pending from the low settee, as she sobbed uncontrolled. His tongue still provoking until she became completely spent.
He pulled her down to his lap and held her firmly there, her head resting on his shoulder. Giving her pleasure felt like one of the most rewarding things he’d ever done in his life. He wanted to do it again. And again, even if it made him heinously hard, as he was now. There could be no doubt that he’d make her inexorably his. They were meant to be lovers, whatever the world might think. He didn’t give a damn to the world outside.
After some time, she moved, her hands roaming over him aimlessly. “I want you to…”
He caught her hand. ”No. I’ll take care of it.”
She eyed him quizzically, as if she didn’t know what he meant. Strands of rich brown hair fell around her face, her cheeks flushed, a satisfied air about her. Beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world. He put a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed her chin.
“Time to get dressed for dinner.” He said, even though he wanted to carry her to his room and take her all night.
She stood up, rearranging her hair and left the room without looking back. He waited a couple of minutes before he followed.
What the darn had happened there? Selene thought exasperated. She had never, never experienced that level of…enjoyment, never! Hadn’t imagined such a thing even…existed! Now that she knew it did…
No…he was not dangerous. He was a menace to all she held important in her life. Now that he’d shown her this, she’d lust after him to no end. Where would that leave her? No, oh no… Something had to be done. Soon.
The time called for evasive strategies. She didn’t think herself a coward, but she wouldn’t expose herself unnecessarily either. The immediate solution would be to leave the town house, for the manor. Yes, that seemed like a good decision. She’d be far from society, but only until she…cooled down and got a hold of herself. Before dawn she’d leave, she planned. She rang for her lady’s maid and gave her instructions.
The pressing matter now. Dinner. No possibility of pleading a headache, she’d have to go down and endure the whole thing.
Why was she late? Philip wondered, already sitting at his place by the table. He felt agonisingly restless, his body demanding relief, demanding her.
He heard the door open. Selene stepped into the room dressing a dark grey high necked dress. She murmured a ‘good evening’, sat down at the opposite end and took her napkin, never looking at him. He observed her puzzled. That demure behaviour in a widow appeared somewhat out of place. He’d thought about inviting her to spend tonight together. Her skittish outlook didn’t encourage such things, though.
During dinner they talked amenities, as he hadn’t dismissed the footmen. Never once did she meet his eyes. Intriguing. He had to find out what went through her mind. Fine, so she’d given herself to pleasure in an abandoned way. It might have been new to her. She’d been married to an older man, he understood it. But this shuttered expression? Strange, very strange.
Not that he disliked her attitude. It meant she didn’t adopt a…prodigal stance toward men, which he considered utterly positive. Nevertheless, her withdrawal excited the predator in him. Again. And he wouldn’t leave it be. Not a chance in hell of this happening!
After dinner, she gave some lame excuse and retired hurriedly. Well, so it’d be another lonely night for him, he concluded. Resigned, he took himself to his study.
Next morning, Philip took his time. He ordered a bath, soaked in it, dressed leisurely. Sitting at the breakfast table, he read the newspaper calmly, while having a coffee. In general, Selene had her breakfast earlier and went about her chores. He’d work a couple of hours in his study and head to the club. After club…in the dead of the night… His body went to bursting point.
As he walked to his study, Jenkins came down the hall holding some candelabra he’d replace somewhere. Thinking of it, the house seemed unusually quiet.
“Good morning, Jenkins.” He greeted the butler. “Her Grace is in the library, I sup
pose.”
“Good morning, Your Grace.” He bowed. “No. Her Grace left for the manor before dawn. I thought she had informed you.”
