Edmond couldn’t help it. He groaned. Breathing slowly, he calmed himself, willing his body to relax. Who would be so bold? Lady Evelyn? Damned unlikely. The light glowing from the embers of the fireplace were too low for him to ascertain her features. Hell…was he even truly awake?
“I missed you today. Why did you not ask me to dance at all tonight?”
Ah, so this was a dream, the result of imbibing a few more glasses of brandy in the cold loneliness of the library before retiring. A dangerous need rode Edmond, and the temptation to slake his hunger in her willing warmth was overwhelming.
A gentle nip at his throat as if punishment for being absent, then a kiss soothing the sting. A whiff of her sweet breath teased his nostrils. Sherry. So his intrepid seducer had consumed liquor to shore up her fortitude. Was the lady drunk?
A sigh wafted from her on a soft moan. “You smell different… I like it, very much,” she whispered almost shyly.
As if they had a will of their own, his hands searched, found her hips and tugged her closer. His body hummed with eagerness and desire heated his blood. Edmond drew her up to him, and dipped his head. He lightly grazed her cheek with his lips, and pressed a light kiss down to her neck. So damn tempting.
“I believe I want you to kiss me,” she gasped, astonishment rife in her tone.
She nuzzled into his chest and his control began to fray, thread by thread. Edmond pressed an open mouth kiss to the tiny pulse flickering wildly above her collarbone and inhaled her scent into his lungs, wanting to trap the refreshing fragrance. As he nipped at her tender flesh with his teeth, she shivered violently, and a soft moan slipped from her.
“I…I feel…warm, and there is a strange feeling fluttering in my stomach.”
His body was rebelling at his self-imposed celibacy and his cock was leading the charge. With a muttered epithet he drew her closer, wanting to dip his fingers beneath her gown to find out how passionate a woman she was. Through the fog of lust shrouding his logical thoughts, common sense reared its head. He’d never had a faceless liaison, and he was not about to start. But devil take it. He felt something other than blinding pain and emptiness for the first time, in what felt like a lifetime. Before he could decide how to handle his unexpected companion, the softest of lips settled on his. Sweet Christ. Rational thought told him to push her away, but everything burned under the tide of excruciating lust.
This must be a dream…a hidden fantasy bourgeoning to life from abject misery, seeking something new and wonderful. Never had Edmond felt such an intensity of desire. This was an aberration…a distressingly enticing one.
She parted her lips on a sigh, and he took ruthless advantage. He allowed his tongue to stroke inside of her mouth, to twine with hers as he slanted her head, deepening an already far too intimate kiss. Her flavor exploded on his tongue, and he bit back the deep groan wanting to erupt from the cold place inside him that seemed to have thawed to molten lava. The taste of her was indescribable—sweet, warm, carnal. She whimpered, and then the timid slide of her tongue met his.
It took all of his years of discipline, not to tumble her onto her back, and take her. He worshipped her mouth, giving her no chance to retreat, and it distantly resounded that she did not want to flee from his embrace. She arched to him, her breasts unconfined beneath the nightgown she wore, and he itched to cup her breasts and feel her nipples stabbing into his palm.
She pulled from him, trembling. “I…I…between my legs…aches…Mr. Atwood, I…you’ve never kissed me like that before.”
Mr. Atwood?
“This is so wonderfully reckless, but kiss me again,” she breathed, sounding dazed, and if he was not mistaken, a bit tippled. “Kiss me again,” she demanded fiercely.
Yes, Edmond’s body shouted. But he wouldn’t. He called himse
lf all sorts of foolish names. But he couldn’t allow it to go further, not when she clearly thought he was someone else. He would be more than a despicable cur to press an advantage. No matter how much his cock ached. “No,” he groaned, tempted beyond measure, pulling fully from her clasp.
As expected she froze at his voice. A tremor ran down her taut spine, and then she burst into a flurry of movements, twisting the sheets around her body in her haste. Unfortunately rubbing the soft pad of her ass into his lap. “Be still!”
“Please, no. No! This cannot be so…” Her whisper of dread and frantic movements only served to inflame his ardor. She twisted and he bit back a groan, as she rubbed at his aroused length.
His hips surged against his will, pressing harder into her, and she became motionless at the evidence of his desire.
He heard her gulp. Then she shivered. “Please let me go.”
He complied immediately.
As if afraid to make any sudden movements, she took her time sliding from his lap. Edmond wanted to curse, as the sinuous shift caused him to throb. He hissed a sigh of relief when her body was away from him completely.
Her erratic breathing was loud in the chamber.
“Who are you?”
Chapter Four
I am ruined by the wrong man.
Adel had suspected something was wrong from her dizzying reaction to the man’s closeness. Mr. Atwood had never made her feel such wanton heat from a mere touch. But she had foolishly dismissed the warning clangs away, thinking it was the fright and exhilaration of doing something so wickedly forbidden…and the mystifying power of the liquid courage.
There was a shuffle. Then a tinderbox was struck, and the candle on the nightstand was lit.