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Chapter Seventeen
Antony looked up from the book to see Lady Hermione standing nearby, her face a picture of shock with those kissable lips parted. Seeing her standing so near to him, merely minutes after he’d tried to escape her, was tortuous. Watching her eyes darting back and forth, apparently looking for an exit but also unable to tear her gaze away from him for long, he wanted nothing more than to draw her in to sit in his chair with him and explore this desire for her.
I cannot let that happen.
“You found my hiding place,” he spoke with no humor.
“You were hiding from me?” she asked, clearly startled by the idea.
“Well, as we just discussed in our conversation as we danced, I am finding it nearly impossible to stay away from you. It seems best that I try harder in that resolution now,” he said and returned his gaze to the pages of the book again. He heard her footsteps retreat, yet hearing her go made his heartbeat grow faster.
I do not want her to leave.
“Did you come looking for me?” he asked, not looking up from the book.
“No, Your Grace.” Her words surprisingly made him sad. “I came to escape the ball and to read, but you have beaten me to the book we are both reading anyway.”
“Strange, I’m reading it, but the words are not going in,” he said, giving up on the book and closing the front cover loudly. “I am thinking of something else entirely.” He turned his eyes to her, finding her standing by the first line of bookshelves with one hand on a nearby shelf. His gaze lingered on her.
“What is it you are thinking about?” she asked, her voice a little breathy. Images flashed across his mind. It was every way he had ever dreamt of taking Lady Hermione, of pleasing her in this room until she was moaning his name not only out of pleasure but out of adoration.
“Cannot you guess?” With his words, his gaze dropped down her body, telling her exactly what he had been thinking of.
“I… I should go,” she said quietly, half turning between the bookshelves.
“Do you want to go?”
“No, of course, I don’t,” she said hurriedly, turning back to him, “but I should, shouldn’t I?”
He couldn’t let her go, not now. He stood to his feet and crossed the room toward her. She backed up a little from him though she didn’t make an escape. Instead, she placed her back against some of the bookshelves. When he came to a stop in front of her with his hands on the shelves either side of her waist, he burned with the urge to move those hands and touch her.
“Then don’t go yet,” he whispered to her. “Stay a little longer first.”
“If I stay, you and I both know that we will not keep to our resolution about not kissing,” she said, her eyes fluttering closed as he moved toward her, clearly waiting for that kiss.
“Would that be so bad?” he whispered, moving his lips toward hers.
“Awful, when you have no intention to marry,” she whispered, her eyes shooting open again. “We should not be doing this.”
“Then we could simply vow not to go too far,” he said, finding it unbearable to stay back from her. He slid his hands along the shelves until they brushed the sides of her waist. She gasped at the touch, though she made no move to get away from him. “Do you want me to stop this, Lady Hermione?” he asked, moving his head down to hers.
Her lips parted as if she were about to object, yet no words came out. Those eyes closed again, and her lips pressed together, giving him the assent that he needed. He kissed her, crossing the boundary and breaking the rules they had put in place for themselves. It started out as a simple press of lips, until he turned his hands to take hold of her waist properly. That touch ignited a fire.
The kiss became much more urgent and intense. With a quick nibble to her lip, he begged permission to pass her closed lips that she gave willingly. Soon, he was pressing her against the bookshelves, feeling her curves against his body, through the dress that he had bought for her. The whole time he pressed the kiss further; he lifted a hand to angle her head to him, to allow him to deepen it more. Her hands were holding onto him, as though she needed him just to keep standing.
I love that.
Wanting her to feel safe in his arms, he lowered his other hand back down to her waist and wrapped both arms around her then lifted her clean off the floor and away from the bookshelves. She made a sound of surprise into their kiss that he muffled before walking her out of the bookshelves and back toward the center of the room.
He found the rug in front of the fireplace quickly and lowered her down to the floor upon it, placing his body over hers in the effort to be closer to her.
He expected any minute for her to complain that they had gone too far and for her to push him off her, but she didn’t. Her hands began to claw at the back of his jacket, evidently trying to pull it off him. He lifted himself up from their kiss, parting from her just long enough to allow her to pull it off him. As they shed the garment, he gazed down at her, seeing her lips pinker than before, and the blush taking over her cheeks.
It was the eyes that struck him most. The pure green color was looking up at him with not just excitement, but something else in them. Every time he had ever been with a woman down at the club, they had always looked at him in one of two ways: either he was as a customer, and they just wanted things to pass quickly, or they were looking at him as though he were some prize that they wanted to win. Lady Hermione looked at him differently. She appeared as enraptured by him as he was her.
This is dangerous territory. I should walk away.Yet he could not. He lowered himself down and kissed her again.
Hands went wandering, and they were soon both pulling at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel more of one another. He moved his kisses down her neck, taking the same path that he had teased her with in the library the other day. This time, he hovered in particular over the neckline of her dress, kissing the glimpse of bosom that was visible and pulling at the neckline to get better access to her.
