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“We should stop,” she whispered. “What if someone sees us?”
“I’m willing to take that risk.” He cast the words aside, hardly caring if he didn’t really mean them. He was certain no one would come looking for them, not when there was a ball to distract them, and he had no wish to part from Lady Hermione just yet, not until he had lived out one of his fantasies.
He kissed her again. There had to be something in his words that meant something to her for her hands lifted up, and she buried her fingers in his hair, holding him down to her with even more urgency than before. He loved that feeling– the feeling where she truly wantedhim.Not his title or his money, just him.
Antony began to pull at the skirt of her dress, desperate for access to her. In the clumsy fuddle of trying to pull the skirt up between the two of them when they were pressed so firmly together, he felt her begin to giggle into their kiss. It made him pull apart from her and smile.
“You are finding my clumsy attempts to please you amusing?” he said with a low chuckle.
“Well, I thought you liked the dress. You are pulling it so much, you might tear it,” she said as he moved her legs, pulling the skirt up entirely until it was around her hips.
“Tear it? I rather like that idea,” he confessed, imagining tearing it from her body, just to get access to her in the heat of the moment.
“Your Grace,” she attempted a warning tone, but it fell quickly away into a smile.
“I’ll buy you another if I tear it,” he said with a wink then hooked one hand under her knee and drew it to the side, creating space between her legs. She gasped at the touch as he lowered himself back down between her legs, kissing her once more.
This was another boundary they had crossed. As they kissed, and their hands wandered, her legs came up around his hips, making the intimacy greater. One of his hands had gone to caress the exposed skin of her thigh and then up to her rear, cradling it against his body. Touching her sent off more heat in him than touching any other woman had before. He not only wanted her but needed her. That need would be satisfied first by pleasing her.
He moved his hand around from her rear and reached between their hips that were moving against each other, slowly inching his fingers toward her center.
He parted from their kiss, holding her gaze, wanting to see her reaction when he touched her. The first caress was light. She gasped, and her eyes widened at the sensation. His second touch was firmer, and a moan fell from her lips. The sound was perfection to his ears. He set up a rhythm, pleasing her and watching her face for her reaction.
Her hands came up to hold onto him as her legs widened around his hips, giving him more access to her. The more he moved his hand, and the faster tempo he created, the more she responded. Her cheeks blushed red as her head tipped back on the rug, and her eyes were half-lidded, basking in her pleasure. When he pushed his fingers inside of her, marveling at the touch of her and how it felt, she seemed to enter new realms of ecstasy.
Her hold on him had tightened even more, and her back was arching off the rug, up toward him. Desperate to see her release, all for him, for what they had together and what they could share, he moved his hand deeper and harder. “Your Grace… I…” she moaned.
“Call me Antony,” he pleaded with her, needing to hear it.
“Antony,” she moaned his name, the sound getting a little louder. She had to be nearing her peak for he could feel her tightening around him. She thrashed her head back on the rug as his name fell from her lips another time. Her body convulsed with the shockwaves of her pleasure.
He rode out her peak, determined to give her as much thrill as possible. When he began to slow his fingers, he could see her body was dazed. Her hands couldn’t settle. One second, they were on the rug beneath her, the next they were on him, clinging to his waistcoat and his arms through his shirt.
“I hadn’t expected… that would be so…” She waved a hand in the air, trying to show what she meant without words.
“I know. Neither did I,” he confessed, wishing he could tell her how much such a thing had meant to him, to see that she cared for him whilst they were caught up in their desire for each other. He removed his hand from her and settled his body over hers, determined to stay close to her.
He kissed her once, just a light kiss of their lips brushing together. Her arms came up to hold onto him, and he sank more into her touch. The warmth that spread through his chest at her movement made him realize what had bloomed between them.
This wasn’t just flirtation, even if he had described it as that at the ball. It was desire, yes, but it was intense, it was overwhelmingly happy and exciting, and he didn’t want to part from her.
As he lifted his lips from hers and settled his weight on his elbows, he moved one hand to play with her hair, pulling the blonde locks out of the updo and wrapping the strands playfully around his fingers as he stared down at her. She was still panting, coming down from her high with her legs up around his hips.
“This is different,” he said quietly, unable to keep his words to himself.
“How do you mean?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“With you, everything feels different.” He breathed deeply. “I think I’m falling for you, Lady Hermione.”
He expected her to be happy at these words. Her suggestion earlier that evening that maybe there could be an understanding between them would have suggested she should be. Initially, she did look happy, with a smile spreading across her features and her eyes on his, then something must have struck her for the smile fell away.
“You look as though I have just declared to some horrible skeleton being hidden in a closet,” he said with a soft laugh. “What is wrong?”
“Oh God, oh Antony,” she said and lifted her hands between them, covering her face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting one hand to try and tear down the barrier she had put between them. When he managed to lower her hands a little, he found there were tears in her eyes. “You’re crying. What did I say?”
“No, what you said is wonderful,” she said hurriedly, “but there is something you must know. There is much you must know! About me.” She pushed against his chest, urging him off her. He went unwillingly, stopping when he was on his knees. She moved to her knees too and pulled at his waistcoat with both hands as though in a pleading motion.
