AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Allow me to demonstrate. ” And before she knew what he was going to do his mouth came down on hers, unerringly in the dark, and she froze.
One arm was around her waist, holding her against him. He caught her chin with the other hand, and her arms were free to bat at him, push him away, and she
tried, she absolutely tried, but the feel of his mouth against hers was really quite delightful, and it lasted longer than five seconds.
“Open your mouth, vixen,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. “You can’t spend your entire life in ignorance. ”
“Why not? I think…” Her mistake. Opening her mouth to speak gave him enough opportunity, and his open mouth closed over hers, moving it apart, and oh my God, she could feel his tongue touch her lips.
She struggled, momentarily panicked, and he lifted his head. “Don’t be such a Sabine about it, my precious. It’s only a kiss. ” And he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue pushing inside her mouth and touching her own, and she could hear her own horrified moan.
It was strange, it was vile, it was awful. It was…odd. Unfamiliar feelings were fluttering through her, and the darkness of the room felt like a cocoon wrapped around her, cradling her, and suddenly it was something she wanted. She wanted him to kiss her like that, full and deep, holding nothing back. She wanted to be kissed like she was loved, needed, like she was the most desirable woman in the world. The hands that were pushing against his shoulders stopped, then moved upward to clutch him, and when his tongue curled against hers she found herself kissing him back, moving her own small tongue in response to his.
He lifted his mouth, trailing damp kisses along the side of her jaw, and she drew a deep breath, not realizing she’d been holding it. Her body was softening, flowing against his, and he was moving her, slowly, carefully, until her back came up against a wall and she let her head sink back, closing her eyes.
“You really are indescribably luscious, my sweet Charity,” he said, his voice almost a growl against the side of her neck. His mouth caught her ear, his teeth nipping lightly just above the emerald earbob, and she let out a moan, shocking herself. She could feel his hips pressing against her, holding her against the door, and she could feel the ridge of his erection.
Author: Anne Stuart
It astonished her. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced—Wilfred’s response to her had been slow to build and…and small compared to what she felt now. He couldn’t be putting that part of his body to the same use that Wilfred or Thomas had—it was too big.
She lifted on her toes, pressing against him experimentally, rubbing against him like a curious cat. She heard a strangled moan from him, and she felt a spark of satisfaction that she could make him feel the same kind of reaction he was busy getting from her.
“Bloody hell, Charity,” he whispered against her skin. And he kissed her again, as she felt his large, deft hands slide down her skirts, tugging them slowly, inexorably upward.
It was the touch of his long fingers on the bare flesh of her knee that froze her, shocked her out of the sensual web he’d managed to spin around her. She moved her hands to his chest and shoved hard. “No!” she cried, and he fell back a step, no longer touching her.
He was only a few inches away, she knew it, even in the inky darkness of the little room. He was breathing heavily, and her own heart was thudding so hard in her chest that it felt as if it might break through. She was trembling, her legs felt weak and she wanted to slap him.
“What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?” she managed to say. She would have loved to have sounded unaffected, but right now that was beyond her.
He let out a sigh, and she could almost picture him, those dark green eyes narrowed and assessing, his mouth curved in a slight smile. His mouth, the one that had kissed her more thoroughly than she’d ever been kissed before. His mouth, his kiss, that had felt more intimate than lying with her husband with her chemise pulled chastely up to her waist and her face turned away. She felt despoiled. She felt invaded. She felt…claimed.
He moved closer, and his forehead pressed against hers as he sighed. “That’s the point, my sweet Lady Carstairs. You don’t recognize a full-bore seduction when it’s aimed at you. You simply can’t continue to be such an innocent and live the life you do. It’s too dangerous. Some big bad wolf is going to snatch you up and devour you. ”
She caught her breath. “So you being this big bad wolf—this is a charitable act on your part?”
There was a moment’s silence, but he didn’t move away. “What if I told you it was? Are you so innocent that you’d really believe it?”
She curled her hands into fists, trying to will strength back into her limbs. “I have no idea, Lord Rohan. I have no experience being debauched. ”
She didn’t know if that muffled sound was laughter or exasperation. “It was your idea to come in here, my love. I thought you were ready to experience the delights of the flesh. ”
“I experience any number of physical delights. Such as spring breezes blowing through my hair, or the taste of sugar cakes, or playing with a kitten, or holding a child’s hand. ”
“You don’t have to tell me you like sugar cakes,” he said. “You like kisses, too. ”
“I do not. ”
“Do you want me to prove it again?”
“No!”
He moved away then, backing into the darkness, and she suddenly felt bereft. She could see him now, a shadow in a room of shadows, no longer in danger of touching her, thank God. She released her breath, trying to decipher the sudden pang of…regret? Disappointment? Freedom.
“I want to go back,” she said sternly, ignoring it.
“Well, my darling girl, you can’t,” he said frankly. “I told you, my reputation as a lover is at stake. You’re not leaving until there’s been enough time to shag you properly. Which I’m guessing is another forty-five minutes. So you might as well sit down and tell me whatever it was that made you drag me into here in the first place. Not that I mind. If the Elsmeres and their ilk think I’ve managed to so thoroughly debauch the Saint of King Street that she can’t spend a few hours without having me between her legs, then my credit will only rise. When we leave you’ll need to be languid, mussed and dreamy. ”
