***
Let me love you…
Artemis’s breath quickened and her heart contracted painfully in her chest. Oh, what did Dominic mean by that? He meant “make love,” didn’t he? Not actually the “I love you” sort of love.
She had no more time to reflect on such an earth-shattering notion because Dominic was kissing her with such searing passion that all of her thoughts scattered like embers in the wind. His hands were cradling her face, and his tongue was in her mouth, stroking deeply. His hips pushed so hard against hers, she could easily feel his arousal, even through all of the layers of her skirts and petticoats.
She was aroused too and needed to lose herself. To feel something other than anger and anguish and dread. To experience something that was real and true and uplifting, which in her heart of hearts she knew she could find only with Dominic.
She burned for him so much that she was already hot and wet and slippery between her thighs. Her nipples were as tight and hard as pearls even before he cupped her breasts. When he skated his thumbs over those aching nubs and then pinched them through her bodice and corset, she moaned, rendered helpless with the strength of her own desire. “Take me,” she whispered hoarsely.
He lit her up so quickly, so effortlessly, that she couldn’t help but succumb to the fire blazing between them.
He growled his approval, then yanked the woolen skirts of her traveling gown up to her waist. “Help me take off these damn petticoats and drawers.”
And she did. At once.
As soon as the garments were pooling around her ankles, Dominic was on his knees, nudging her thighs apart, pressing his wicked mouth to her sex. His hands held her hips captive as his tongue delved between her folds, licking and swirling and tasting her wetness, tormenting her clitoris, driving her to the edge of reason. In no time at all, her knees were trembling, and she was gasping and gripping his head, holding on for dear life as he sent her hurtling into bliss.
But there was to be no respite from Dominic’s sublime assault on her senses. Before the aftershocks of her pleasure had subsided, he was climbing to his feet and unfastening his trousers. He ruthlessly raised one of her legs, notched the head of his rigid cock at her dew-slick entrance and, with one powerful thrust, seated himself inside her, all the way to the hilt.
Artemis’s core quivered around his hot, steel-hard length and she closed her eyes and clutched at Dominic’s shoulders. How could it be that she was ready to come again so soon?
“Look at me,” he commanded. His stormy gaze burned into hers as he began to drive into her slick heat, again and again. Harder and faster, making the door rattle with each exquisite incursion. One of his hands grasped her about the nape, holding her steady. And then his mouth was at her ear, whispering coarse, delicious, wicked words about how much he wanted her and her alone. How much he adored being inside her. How much he loved hearing her pants and sweet moans… And when he pressed a scorching kiss to her throat, Artemis shattered and broke on an ardor-drenched cry, pleasure engulfing her, carrying her heavenward in a great, pulsating wave.
Clinging to his neck, she buried her face in Dominic’s shoulder. Except for the harsh gust of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest, he’d gone completely still. And then he slid himself free with one hand, jerked his hips once, then twice and with a low, guttural animal groan, he found satisfaction too. As he pushed against her, shuddering and quaking and gasping, his seed coated her inner thigh.
“Artemis,” His whisper was harsh and raw, almost desperate as he drew back to look at her, and Artemis frowned.
Something about him—the stark expression in his gaze as it wandered over her face as though memorizing her features, the way his fingers brushed over her lips, then down her cheek, set off of a frisson of alarm. “Is something wrong?” she asked softly.
And when his mouth curved into a lopsided smile, and he murmured, “Nothing, nothing at all, love,” she didn’t quite believe him.
“Are you sure? Because—”
“I’m sure. I’m just tired and you must be too. You must go home and get some sleep.”
He pulled out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and after wiping her thigh clean and tidying himself up, he helped her to put her attire back to rights.
“Good night, my sweet Artemis,” he said in a voice so soft and low and filled with tenderness it made her breath catch. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Then they exchanged one final light and lingering kiss before she quit the library and made her way down the stairs to Dartmoor House’s entry hall.
As Artemis donned her bonnet and pulled on her gloves, she had the distinct impression she was being watched, but when she turned around and looked back up the stairs to the first floor, there was no one there. At least she didn’t think so. It was difficult to see into all of the shadowy corners beyond the wooden balustrades. The night footman stationed by the front door certainly didn’t seem to notice anything.
Her fatigue and all of this horrid business with Gascoyne had clearly unsettled her. Her mind was playing tricks on her just like it had in the nursery at Ashburn Abbey.
Dominic was right.
She needed a good night’s sleep.