Page 58 of A Daring Desire

And so, the words died upon her tongue, and she allowed him to sweep her into the dance.

Chapter 17

Leo,

I think it is time we had a word about that club of yours. The Sons of Hades has been notorious for too long and it is no longer something I might overlook. When you and your friends were all young and foolish and knew no better, I was prepared to turn a blind eye. The images currently decorating the print shop windows leave me no option but to look, and what I see is the end of the line. You are no stripling now, but a man grown, and it is high time you left such outrageous escapades behind you instead of acting as ringleader for the next scandalous headline.

It is high time you married and settled down like a reasonable man and put such nonsense behind you.

Your mother and I are organising a series of dinner parties to aid you in your search for a wife and you will attend each and every one of them.

You will do me the favour of honouring me with your presence before the end of the week to discuss the matter. Do not let me down, you will not enjoy my repost.

―Excerpt of a letter to Mr Leo Hunt from his father, Mr Nathanial Hunt.

10th January 1850, The Countess St Clair’s New Year’s Ball, St James’s, London.

Kilbane handed his wife up into the carriage and followed her in, more than relieved to be going home. The evening had been a series of trials to endure, from the judging gazes of society to the rampaging desire for his extraordinary wife that was even now simmering beneath his skin. Yet it was four in the morning and Catherine was ready to drop with fatigue if he was any judge. He told himself he was glad of it, for it would keep him in check and stop him from despoiling her in the carriage home. It did not make him any happier, though, when his thoughts were a seething mass of contradictions, his heart in turmoil.

Catherine was his wife, and even if he were noble enough to give her the divorce her father so passionately wanted for her, it was not what she wanted. For reasons he would never understand as long as he lived, she had put her heart in his keeping, and somehow, he must endeavour to be worthy of it. How, he did not know, but he would do his clumsy best to be a decent husband to her. The lurking fear that his best would fall a long way short, and she would realise her mistake all too rapidly, was a silent but insidious shadow that cast its gloom over his future.

The carriage started forward, the dim light of the carriage lamp illuminating the interior. Catherine leaned forward, drawing the curtains over the windows to the outside world, and suddenly he had an armful of lush femininity, her skirts and petticoats billowing about him in a pretty froth of lace and silk. Before he could comment, she had pulled his head down, pressing her mouth to his, and he was lost.

Desire spiked in his blood, all the tension and frustration of the past hours finding an outlet in the pleasure of her sweet mouth upon his. He groaned, helpless to deny her anything she asked of him when his body was in such complete accord with whatever it was she wanted. She broke the kiss, and he stared down at her, enchanted by the flush upon her cheeks, the determination in her eyes. He watched as she shrugged her cloak off and, rather diffidently, set her slender fingers to unhooking the bodice of her gown.

“Catherine,” he said, his voice low and husky and ridiculously breathless.

She spared him a glance before returning to her work.

He ought to stop her, he knew it, but he could not, held spellbound by her nimble fingers as they unhooked first her bodice, then the bottom half of her corset just enough that she could wriggle it down. She reached for his hand and, with a defiant glint in her eyes, pressed it against her breast, holding it in place.

Kilbane’s breath left him in an unsteady exhale as he registered the plump warmth beneath the fine cotton chemise. Her nipple tightened, the taut little nub pushing temptingly against his palm. Not having done enough to destroy his equilibrium, she kissed him again, sinking her hands into his hair. His hand firmed on her breast, squeezing gently, but the chemise was an impediment he had no patience for, and he tugged it aside, breaking the kiss so he might look upon the sight before him.

Words crowded his mind, expressions of admiration and desire, but his mouth watered, and desire overcame anything resembling romance as he lowered his head and captured her nipple with his mouth.

The sound she made shot straight to his groin, a sensation closer to pain than pleasure the ache of need was so acute. She cradled his head, holding him close as he caressed and suckled first one breast and then the other. He teased her, gently tormenting the poor little peak with his teeth and soothing again with the slide of his tongue. He paused to look up at her, finding himself well satisfied with her scarlet cheeks and the passion dark look in her eyes.

“Just a little bit debauched,” he murmured.

“A bit more,” she demanded, shifting in his lap, and making him suck in a breath as she almost kneed him in a delicate spot.

“Have a care, love,” he said, laughing softly at her frantic scramble to straddle him.

She paused, flushing pinker still. “I’m sorry, I’m not very adept as yet, but I shall learn.”

He heard a thread of mortification behind the words and knew she was embarrassed, no doubt thinking he compared her to more sophisticated lovers. His heart, already so deeply in her thrall, flung any remaining caution to the wind, throwing itself heedlessly at her feet, did she but know it.

He reached up, cupping her face and raising her gaze to his. “You are perfect,” he whispered, meaning it. “I wish I came close to deserving such a gift.”

She smiled then, and he was beyond saving. Whatever she wanted he would give her, no matter what she asked of him, he would not let her down, for the idea she might stop looking at him with such love shining in her eyes was a fate he could not bear to contemplate.

So, he kissed her, with a tenderness that was as new to him as his kisses were to her.

“Touch me,” she begged him. “Please.”

He took her mouth again, one hand toying gently with her breast whilst the other sought a path beneath her petticoats. Unerringly, he found the slit in her drawers and brushed the silken curls beneath. Her breath hitched and Kilbane found he could not breathe easily himself, his attention riveted upon the wet warmth he encountered as his fingers discovered her most private flesh. He found the little hooded peak and caressed her gently, watching her face with rapt attention as her eyes closed on a little sigh of pleasure. Kilbane swallowed, certain that in all his years of amorous adventures, when all decadent pleasure had ceased to divert him, that watching the expression on her face and hearing that delicate little sigh was the single most erotic experience of his entire life.

Kilbane gazed at her as though under a spell, unable to tear his eyes from her beautiful face, desperate to hear her sigh again, to murmur her approval of his touch. Though thoughts of releasing his cock from the increasingly tight confines of his trousers and thrusting into her were hard to ignore, he refused to entertain them. She was no experienced and casual lover to be treated so carelessly, and he did not underestimate the chance he had been given. He touched her with caution, easing a single finger inside her with his heart hammering as he imagined her tight heat engulfing a different part of his anatomy. His breathing was erratic and shallow as he clung to self-control and continued his intimate caresses, and then she said his name.