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“But I–”
“Go, now,” Bridget urged again then she heard the sound of footsteps leaving her side. She lifted her hands in the level of her chest. Behind her, she could hear the faint sound of the dinner guests, so she headed in the opposite direction until suddenly a gentle touch electrified her.
“Ah!” she squealed barely audibly, only to hear someone’s voice in her ear.
“Shhh…” the voice said softly, and all she could do was relinquish control.
Chapter 11
If he had any sense left in him, he would not be guiding her towards the room which used to be his study before but was now only a room that stored an old oak table and a dresser. Yet, he could not help himself. He simply did not have any sense left when it came to Bridget.
He felt thrilled and horrified at the same time, lurking in the shadows, but the truth was, he was biding his time, waiting for the moment when the ladies would be separated, and when Bridget would ask to be away from the rest. The clumsy servant girl was just a stroke of good luck which assured him that he was exactly where he needed to be.
“Where are we going?” Bridget giggled sweetly, speaking into his ear as she allowed him to guide her.
He pushed the door open. Darkness reigned in this room, and he allowed it to continue to be. He pulled her inside, swirling her around, so that she was now facing him. The darkness around him made them equals. He wondered what that knot in his stomach was. Anxiousness. Desire. Longing. It was an amalgamation of it all, but they were here. Together.
He could hear the soft swish of her silken skirts as she stepped closer to him. She smelled like jasmine, orange, milk and flowers. She smelled likeher.
He swallowed heavily before he spoke. “I had to whisk you away.”
He could not see whether she was smiling or not. He hoped she was. “I could not tell where you were seated,” she admitted. All good intentions of returning her back where she was headed flew out the window. He wanted to keep her here for as long as he could.
“Too far away from you,” he replied huskily.
“Did anyone see us?” Her question surprised him although it did not shock him. He always suspected there was more to her than she was letting on.
“Of course not,” he assured her.
His fingers slowly found their way up her arms, trailing the line of her shoulders, collar bone, neck. His eyes did not see. This time, his fingers did the looking. She was beautiful. She felt like the softest silk.
“Joseph…” His name on her lips sounded like a prayer and blasphemy at the same time. He did not wish to ruin her, to ruin either of them, but he could not let go of her. “Why are we here?”
His hands slid back down to her waist. She was tall and slim, but somehow, she fit perfectly against him. Softly, she placed her open palms against his chest. For a moment, he feared she would try to push him away. The urge to stay here, hiding in her world, felt more alluring than anything else, but it was disconcerting as well. He remembered his promise. He would not be marrying any ladies for as long as he lived, but he could not let go of her. Not now, not ever.
“Because I could not stay away from you for a moment longer,” he admitted.
His mind was a haze, and the darkness had nothing to do with that. It was her nearness, the way she kept coming closer and closer to him, her chest pressing against his. His hunger for her had been under control up to this point when he had dangerously confined them both. He thought he could hear her breathe. He expected her to say something, to push him away, to tell him that this was outrageous, and she would not have it. But she was as breathless, as soundless as he was.
There was nothing else to say that hadn’t been said already. He closed his eyes, allowing his heart to lead. That very moment, he pressed his lips to hers. The movement was sudden, yet to both of them it came as something utterly expected. It was obvious that she had never kissed anyone before. Her tongue moved without much finesse, but he was surprised to realize that this kiss had inflamed him more than any of the other kisses he had shared with much more experienced ladies.
Their kisses were planned, knowledgeable, and designed to create desire. Her kiss was desire itself. Pure, unadulterated longing expressed in the sweetest manner imaginable. His hands found the back of her neck, guiding her softly as they both lost themselves in this kiss. There was no control on either side. They allowed their desire to lead them to the point of madness.
Gently, he bit her lower lip, and the sound of her moaning softly made his cock erect, squirming in the confines of his trousers, clawing to get out. If he had to, he would admit that he had been abusing himself with the thoughts of having her in the dark like this, never even dreaming it would be possible. The raw desire had completely taken over him. There was possession in his kiss, his fingers, his breath. He wanted to mark her as forever his.
Suddenly, she lifted her arms around his neck with a soft, almost kittenish moan. Her lips parted, allowing their tongues to dance once more. She was kissing him back more fervently with each passing moment. He understood that sensation, for he himself could not stop. The yearning in his trousers had become unbearable. It was a need that demanded to be answered.
Quickly, he pulled away, never finding any other motion more difficult. His carefully laid out strategies regarding this evening had all gone out the window. All that had remained was palpitating need for the woman standing before him.
* * *
Bridget Beaumont had kissed Joseph Turner, the Duke of Sculthorpe.
Brazenly.
Gracelessly.
Achingly.
