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Itwasarare flower Sebastian discovered amongst the weeds, and every moment in her presence sent his heart beating faster.
The apprehension pouring from such an exquisite blossom lured him closer, teased an experience far beyond what he’d anticipated. Such a specimen of feminine perfection belonged nowhere but his bed.
The silk seductively draping her shoulders did far less to conceal her than the mask hiding her face. Delectable curves flared from a trim waist, and her full breasts threatened to burst from the low-cut gown. With her kohl rimmed eyes and onyx mask, she left him ravenous for a meal he hadn’t enjoyed in some time.
With a gentle hand to the small of her back, he guided her toward the marbled stairs rising to the bedrooms above. “And how is it such a rare and beautiful thing found her way here?”
“I’ve never done anything like this.” As he opened the door and ushered her into the dimly lit room, a shiver ran through her. Eyes darting to the bed, never shifting, and a hard swallow betrayed the nervousness thrumming through her body. “A close friend secured an invitation, and the temptation was too much to resist.”
The lock clicked, deafening in the ominous silence, and a whimper so sweet and delectable brushed past her lips. “That much, you’ve already made obvious, little flower. I count myself fortunate I was the one to pluck you from the weeds.”
He’d commit every moment and detail of their interlude to memory. The sultry voice, her gold and green flecked eyes, and the intoxicating scent of violet clinging to her skin. A scent harkening to his own innocence, spring in Yorkshire heralding their impending departure to London so his mother could enjoy the last few months of the season.
A circus he disliked as a boy and loathed as a man.
Finally tearing her eyes from the bed, she met his gaze again. Short rapid breaths shifted her bare shoulders, drawing attention to the pristine flesh. “There’s something I should tell you.” A flush in her cheeks peeked from beneath the mask, though it was difficult to determine if it was anticipation or fear coaxing the color.
The flickering light of a lone candle danced over her skin, casting an ethereal glow. A fallen angel who’d landed in his bed, imploring him to show her the darkest side of sin. The sweet flower in his grasp was certainly unlike any other, and it was only fitting she possessed a distinctive fragrance so evocative.
“Your body, the responsiveness already so evident, will tell me anything I need to know.” He ran his fingers over her exposed collarbone, coaxing a soft sigh from supple lips as her eyes slipped closed.
Parted lips he ached to caress with his own, to plumb their depths and discover if she tasted as sweet as her floral scent, if the innocence in her demeanor echoed in her kiss. How deeply her manicured nails would rake down his back as he plundered her sweet depths.
If he allowed her hands freedom.
The allure of trussing her up for his uninhibited pleasure edged his control to slipping. The evening was young, and so was she, leaving ample time for indulgences, and he swiped his finger across her lower lip, envisioning its plump softness cradling the head of his cock.
The beast stirred, preparing to bring every last one of her fantasies to life. “Have you ever pleasured a man with your mouth?”
She took a lip, red as climbing roses, between pearly teeth as her timid gaze dipped to his pelvis, and he allowed her to take her fill uninterrupted. As she slowly dragged her gaze up, the tip of her tongue slipped out to slicken her bottom lip. “No.”
A single word embodying a dangerous curiosity, her unabashed innocence a refreshing change from the experienced whores and actresses who frequented his bed. He’d be her second, maybe third, and the evidence of her first time being so botched stared up at him from beneath thick black lashes.
There would be no well-practiced seduction from her that evening, and it would be worth every scrap of genuine coyness he received in exchange. Every first he’d gift her with. Every other time would be banished from her memory, and the timid girl before him would blossom into the lustful creature hiding beneath her fear.
There was no sweeter fruit than a ripened cherry begging to be tasted, and her pleasure would bring on his own rapture.
“I’m afraid you’ll find me painfully inexperienced.” She stepped closer to the fire, running her hands over her upper arms. Whether it was the cold or her trepidation driving her there, it hardly mattered; he’d soothe both before the night was through.
“We’re going to go slow tonight, little flower.” Sebastian slipped behind her, pressing his lips to a shoulder, drinking in the intoxicating scent. Another shiver ran through her, and she offered her sleek neck to his eager mouth.
Trailing kisses along the curved path, he traced his thumbs over her exposed back, drifting lower until they found the row of buttons keeping her from his view. One by one they slipped free, the white silk parting slowly to bare the rest of her succulent flesh. “And your journey down the Nile this evening will be a memorable one.”
Curious as a little cat, she peeked over her shoulder, that seductive bottom lip caught between her teeth again, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Temptation to take it between his own warred against his self-control, so eager for a bite.
“There isn’t a drop of dew upon your petals that will go untasted by morning.” He scraped his teeth along her neck as he slipped the silk from her shoulder, allowing it to fall in a puddle at her feet. Patience was his ally; too much, too quickly, and she could wilt into the wallflower she’d been when he plucked her from the garden of sin.
