She gave a little hiccup and quickly put her hand to her mouth, feeling suddenly jaunty now that she’d made up her mind to court ruin and damnation when all was said and done. Indeed, it was a grand feeling, sitting here and watching Sir Aubrey smile at her with that deliciously wicked, self-satisfied smile. She’d never before made decisions that had such import on her own life.
Now that her vacillations had come down on the sinful side of the coin, she thought she might like to make him work for his pleasure.
“Well, sir, you have tutored me once in the ways of men and women and, as we both concede, ruined me in the process.” She sent him an expectant look. “What else can you show me, to make my fall from grace worth the price?” Dear Lord, she could not believe herself capable of speaking so brazenly.
With feline grace, he reached for her hands, raising her to her feet.
Her heart began to thunder while a thousand butterflies seemed to flutter their wings against her most sensitive parts. She was so unused to the feelings holding her hostage she could barely breathe. Was this what she could expect every time she came into such close proximity with this man?
Gently he cupped her chin, bringing his lips down to meet her hers in the softest of kisses. Straining for more, she reached up on her tiptoes, tentatively running the tip of her tongue across the seam of his lips. She gasped when he lunged forward, enveloping her in his arms and plundering her mouth as his hands roamed over her curves. He wasn’t gentle now and she didn’t want him to be.
For the first time in her life, Hetty felt truly desired. Sir Aubrey was kissing her with relish, his expression one of rapture, as if her soft flesh and rounded breasts and buttocks were the stuff of his dreams. Would a husband like Mr. Woking make her feel like such a woman?
Foolish irrelevance, was her last conscious thought, swallowed by her soft moan as his mouth moved from hers to blaze a trail of kisses the length of her neck, continuing across her chest before coming into contact with her nipple. Pressure and passion had pushed it above the edge of her bodice, which, as he’d also deftly unfastened her gown at the back, now slithered down to her waist.
The gown was not needed, she decided, giving a little wriggle so that it pooled around her ankles. She stepped out of it, wearing only her loose chemise, straining to keep her arms around Sir Aubrey’s neck while she rained kisses upon the hollow of his throat.
In mutual ecstasy they swayed in one another’s embrace, their sighs of rapture mingling with the hiss of the crackling, spitting fire that bathed the room in a comforting glow.
With a growl, Sir Aubrey whisked Hetty into his arms before tossing her onto the bed.
One moment she was gazing, no doubt like a startled fawn, into his lascivious, purposeful gaze, the next he was surging up from her ankles and taking her chemise up past her waist before appearing with a wicked grin between her legs.
“Sir Aubrey!” she squeaked, but her momentary embarrassment was swept away, leaving guilty pleasure in its wake as he parted the folds of her sex with one long sweep of his tongue. A rush of sensation roared through her, as intense as any she’d ever known, casting every particle of rational thought from her mind and leaving her boneless with lust. She existed only in the moment. The exquisite moment.
Heat prickled her skin and she closed her eyes, her mind spinning into a pleasurable, all-encompassing blackness as he gently massaged the growing nub at the center of her desire. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, for just as she felt herself on the verge of safety she was once again plunged into the void of dangerous bodily sensations. Sensations that made her feel increasingly out of control.
Her breath came in staccato gasps.
Startled by the sudden dip of the mattress beneath her, she opened her eyes to find herself staring into the satyr-like grin of Sir Aubrey, who’d divested himself of his breeches and who now rose above her. Hetty’s fascinated gaze slid the length of him and her response must have reflected her true feelings when he chuckled, “So glad I’m not displeasing to you, madam.” His eyes glittered as he caged her body with his, positioning himself at her entrance. “I’d not expected such unfettered eagerness from one so inexperienced.”
“Oh, Sir Aubrey, you’re magnificent,” Hetty whispered, bracing herself with a mixture of fear and excitement. He hadn’t hurt her before, which was rather astonishing considering how very large he was. Now she was primed as she never had been, her body throbbing to receive him; for he was a king amongst men in all his glorious nakedness, and all the more desirable for the palpable desire she saw reflected in his expression.
Exhaling on a sigh of ecstasy as he plunged into her, Hetty was soon experiencing a plethora of very different emotions as he moved inside her.
He filled her completely—both her body and mind. The sensations caused by the friction of body parts were both alarming and intensely pleasurable.
“God, you feel so good!” he rasped, thrusting faster, his eyes glazed as if he were in the throes of ecstasy. She certainly was, and to see and feel the effect she had on this gorgeous man was gratifying in the extreme. The tension inside her was almost unbearable. Her breath came in short gasps while the pounding between her legs was echoed by the pounding behind her breast.
It was exquisite torture.
Sublime pleasure.
And she had no idea where it was going to end.
“Oh, Sir Aubrey!” she screamed as something inside her snapped and she spiraled out of control, unable to harness her bucking and thrusting. She was at the mercy of forces beyond her control, it seemed, as ecstasy took her hostage and blackness swirled through her brain.
“God, Harriet!” he responded as his breathing became more rapid. So did his thrusting, until, on a cry of rapture, he seemed to explode, withdrawing just in time, spilling his seed down the side of her leg as he collapsed, spent, still holding her tightly.
Chapter Six
A visit from her darling mother was just what Hetty needed to focus her mind, though Lady Partington’s greeting struck horror into her.
“Darling Hetty, Araminta tells me you’re so distracted and head-over-heels in love you cannot attend to a word she or anyone else says to you.”
She was still struggling for a reply when her mother released her from her embrace and pulled her to the window seat. “Tell me more about this Mr. Woking, then.”
Revulsion tore through her. “Oh, but I cannot bear Mr. Woking, Mama! I don’t know what Araminta has been saying but I can assure you I would not consider Mr. Woking if he were the last man ever to exist on this