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“Do you wish you never came here?” Lady Lavinia trailed her finger over the edge of her wineglass, lost in thought. He wondered if she’d even hear his answer, but he answered still.
“No. I am grateful to have inherited this title, if only for Victoria’s benefit. If my being here helps her find an advantageous match and keeps her out of trouble, then I shan’t have any regrets. It does not mean, however, that I do not feel out of place, because I do. I simply do not fit in.”
Lady Lavinia laughed, her musical voice, wrapped Sebastian in a warm embrace. “You are handsome, rich, titled, and talented. Every woman in England would love to be your wife, and every man would love to be your friend. And if you do not fit in, then there is no hope for me.”
She stood, swaying, and gingerly walked toward him. “Is my portrait done?”
Sebastian shook his head. “Not yet. I am not certain I’ll be able to finish it, but—”
She stopped just beside him, her warm breath fanning across his arm. “Oh. this is amazing,” she said softly as if mesmerized.
“Isn’t it?” he asked with a wide smile. “Now imagine that… Except nude.”
Lady Lavinia laughed merrily and pushed him on his arm. “You promised!” She swayed as she said it, and he put a hand on her shoulder to make certain she didn’t fall.
“No, I promised to give it my best effort.”
She chuckled, then turned back to the portrait. “I look at myself in the looking glass every day,” she said thoughtfully. “But this is not what I see.”
“What do you see?”
She narrowed her eyes at the portrait in concentration, the tip of her tongue peeking between her lips. “Not this,” she finally said and laughed.
He took the empty glass from her hand. “How many of these did you drink?”
“When I look at myself,” she said, staring into his eyes, ignoring his question, “I suppose I see all my imperfections.”
Sebastian shook his head. He had had enough of that. Who in the world had convinced this beautiful woman that she was less than? Perhaps she didn’t need to be convinced, perhaps the fact that the man she loved chose another played a major part in how she saw herself.
He placed his palm against her soft, warm cheek. “And all I see is your beauty.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead, she looked deeply into his eyes, as if trying to solve a puzzle. She licked her lips. “Do you know that I have never been kissed before?”
Sebastian blinked. He didn’t expect the conversation to take this turn. He cleared his throat before he could speak. “No, I did not know that.”
“I wonder if it’s nice,” she slurred lightly. “Is it nice?”
His eyes lowered to her lips without his conscious thought. She licked her lips slowly, and Sebastian’s groin hardened.Damn. “Very nice.”
“Show me,” she breathed.
Sebastian realized that he was still holding her cheek in his hand. He stepped away. “I don’t think you should be asking strange men to kiss you when you’re alone in their studio, extremely, top-heavy drunk.”
“I absolutely agree.” Lavinia took his face between her palms and planted a kiss on his lips.
Sebastian couldn’t help it. He instantly opened his mouth and kissed her back. She was enthusiastically lapping at his mouth, and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. But then her hands traveled to his hair, her fingers scratching against his scalp, bringing feelings of pleasure he hadn’t felt before.
The wine must have gone into his head, too, because surely if he’d been sober, he wouldn’t allow a young, unmarried lady to be fondling him brazenly, pressing her soft, ripe body to his length and kissing him ardently—albeit inexpertly.
He put his hands on her waist to push her away, but she moaned, and instead, his palms circled her waist and settled on her back, pressing her closer to him. He opened his mouth and took over the kiss.
She tasted of port, sweet, with the hint of fruit and raisins. Her mouth was warm and welcoming, her lips soft and silky. She moaned again and pressed herself even closer, cradling his hard cock with her warm flesh.
Sebastian’s hand traveled up and cupped her soft, rounded breast. They both moaned at the contact.
Suddenly, Sebastian wished they had no barriers, no clothes on. He wanted to see her naked body, and not for the sake of art, but for his own carnal pleasure. He wanted to run his tongue along her skin and taste her… everywhere.
Her lips were sweet, but how would her breasts taste? He wanted to fondle her nipple not with his finger, but with his tongue. And he wanted to taste not only her breasts but everywhere; her neck, her belly, the soft skin on the inside of her thigh… He wanted to taste the sweet nectar of her passion and smell the scent of her desire.
