A Midnight Dance (6 page)

He bent his head, his hair brushing her cheek. “We don’t need wine,” he murmured in her ear. “The carnal heat between us is intoxicating enough.”

Before she could react, she found herself flat on her back staring up at him. He’d straddled her, his knees on either side of hers, and was bent over her, his palms near her head. She was caged in. All his potent male attention was focused on her.

She squirmed. She couldn’t pull back. Nor could she cool down her overheated body. Yet she couldn’t surrender herself.

Not to
him
.

A devilish smile formed on his handsome face. “Beautiful forest fairy, you’re all mine.”

With her moon-kissed hair spread out on his blankets, her soft skin a pale glow, and those luscious breasts rising and falling with each accelerated breath she took, she looked less like a whore. More like an angel.

And even better than Jules had imagined.

Though he knew there was a strong carnal connection between them, he never expected that the mere brush of her lips against his wrist would leave him burning.
Jésus-Christ
. He wanted to fuck her so badly, his sac ached. He could barely hold on to the load of come, the engorged head of his cock already moist with pre-come.

And he reveled in it.

In this fierce desire she inspired. In the intense reactions she elicited from his body. It was unbelievable.

And oh so delectably
real
.

Her lips were slightly parted, and he was stunned by how starved he was for their taste.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d indulged in a long hot kiss. It used to be an integral part of the pleasure in any sexual encounter. Yet somewhere along the way he’d lost interest in the simple intimate act. It had no place in the kind of detached colorless sex he now had.

But sex wasn’t going to be detached or colorless with her. With this woman, the last thing he wanted to engage in was a cold fast fuck.

Resisting the lure of her mouth for the moment, he brushed a pretty blond tress off her cheek, then let his fingers trail lightly down the side of her lovely face and along the slender column of her neck. She closed her eyes, and arched to him. She couldn’t hold back a moan.

He smiled.

He grazed his fingertips across her breast and over her pebbled nipple, enjoying the sound of her excited gasp. He liked how highly responsive she was to him. How genuine her desire was. How undone she’d become when he’d tasted her nipples.

He couldn’t wait to taste those ultrasensitive tips again.

In fact, he couldn’t wait to discover all the hot spots on her pretty little form that would drive her wild. He wanted her completely lost to the lust they incited in each other.

He wanted pure unbridled abandon.

He wanted to fuck her the way no man ever had before.

Jules lowered his head and brushed his mouth over the sensitive spot below her delicate ear. She made the most sensuous sound. His eager prick thickened further, reaching painful proportions. He was so bloody hard, his cock felt heavy as lead.

The anticipation of sinking his length into her soft silky sex, sensing it would be just as highly sensitive as the rest of her, was delicious.

She’d said he’d be well pleased. And he was.

This was far better than any purchased sexual encounter he’d ever had.

He sat back on his heels. “Look at me, Elise.”

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze. She had a delightful desiredazed look in her eyes.

“I want you to forget we have an arrangement. Tonight is about mutual pleasure. You’re going to hold nothing back.” He placed his hands on her thighs and began sliding her skirts up her legs. “And I am going to make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. But first, you’re going to take these off and show me all of your beautiful body.”

She looked shocked. It was understandable. His offer to pleasure a common whore was far from commonplace. Yet one he was serious about. Before they were through, he was going to rock her sweet form with a powerful release. Or three.

Clearly, Sabine’s ears weren’t working any better than the rest of her body parts. Had she heard him say
mutual pleasure
? He wanted her naked?
Totally?
It took everything she had not to cover up her breasts. Now he was suggesting that
all
of her attire be removed?

Didn’t prostitutes simply raise their skirts? Why was it necessary to have her completely unclothed?

She was so frenzied inside, she simply stared up at him. If she didn’t think of something soon, Jules de Moutier was going to relieve her of her virginity. It didn’t help that the tormenting ache between her legs worsened the higher up he pushed her skirts. She wanted to take his bounty, make him suffer, yet he was torturing her in the most sublime way. The words “NO!” and “YES!” were screaming at her from different parts of her body with equal ferocity.

His hands moved over her
caleçons
and stopped to rest on her hips. Heat from his palms radiated through the cloth of her drawers. Her fever spiked. Making quick work of the ties, he slid the
caleçons
down her legs, the cloth lightly grazing along her sensitized skin.

Her breaths short and shallow, Sabine tried not to make any telling moves that would give her away, like squeezing her thighs closed, knowing a whore wouldn’t do that. Her amorous experience totaled three kisses on three different occasions from Leon de Vittry, Baron de Lor, an admirer of her father’s plays. Leon had never so much as stirred her. She hated it that Jules was having such a disastrous impact on her senses.

He paused to take in the sight of her sex. A slow perusal.

“Very pretty . . .” he murmured, then with a few fluid movements, he’d spread her legs and was suddenly kneeling between them. Her heart lurched. “You’ve got a lovely little clit, begging for attention.”

Oh, God . . . At the mention of that part of her anatomy, a hot pulse quivered through her core. Before she could shore up her defenses, he leaned over her, his weight on one palm near her shoulder, and stroked his other hand over the curls at the apex of her legs. She caught her gasp before it escaped her throat. His hand slipped within the folds of her slick sex and gently massaged her needy flesh. Not enough to alleviate the torment. Just enough to fuel the fire. She bit down on her lip to keep from moaning out loud. It took everything she had not to arch into his enticing palm and grind against it.

A slight smile lifted the corner of his sinfully perfect mouth. “You’re so wet, you’re soaking my hand.” The situation was far worse than that. The throbbing between her legs was unbearable, his hand so very close to that spot that was causing her such distress.

But he was avoiding the pulsing bud.

Glancing away, she gazed blindly out into the dark forest, looking for anything that would distract her from those skillful strokes on her sex.

“Elise . . .”

She dragged her gaze back to him.

“You want to come for me, don’t you?”

Oh, she wasn’t about to admit to that, under any circumstances.

He’d lowered his body down beside her as his hand continued to work her sex without missing a single perfect stroke. His chest rested partially on top of her, his skin feeling warm and wonderful against her own.

His words, his scent, the feel of his body against hers, and the fierce pulsing between her legs were eroding her sanity.

Did he have to make this feel so good? How did whores do this? Didn’t they remain unaffected and simply put on a performance?

“You’re holding back your reactions to me,” he gently admonished, amusement in his eyes. “There will be no professional distance tonight. I want your eyes on me, and I want to hear every sultry sound you make, without censor.” He stroked her clit. This time a sound erupted from her.

His smile broadened. “That’s it. Just like that . . . There is no reason to hold back or moderate yourself in any way. I want you to do whatever comes naturally.”

“Forget everything . . . There is no one else in this forest. Just us.” He brushed his lips along her jaw and down her neck. “Beautiful Elise,” he whispered against her skin. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you.” His fingers grazed over her aching nub once more.

Hot excitement shot up her spine. She cried out and threw her arms around him. Burying her face in his neck, she fought to steady herself under his sensuous attack. He pinched her clit lightly. Another cry shot up her throat; pleasure shuddered through her. He was creating sensations like none she’d ever known.

What was the point in fighting this any longer? She couldn’t curb her hunger for him. She wasn’t about to reveal her duplicity. Or back out. When she’d embarked on this plan, she’d known the risks.

Besides, she wasn’t Sabine. She was
Elise
. Elise could indulge in a carnal encounter with him—without qualms. She had no grievances against Jules de Moutier. She could allow herself to explore this delicious act, steal some pleasure, then steal the silver. Elise could do as she wanted—things Sabine would never do—and at the moment she wanted to taste his skin again.

Without another thought, she skimmed her lips along his neck to his ear, stopping just below it to gently draw on him. His groan was thrilling.

He pinned her to the forest floor under him. She couldn’t miss the hard bulge pressing against her belly. Resting his weight on his elbows, he looked down at her. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re going to come for me, first.” He dipped his head and lightly bit her earlobe. She lost her breath. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, one of his stomach-fluttering smiles forming on his face. “What’s your pleasure? Name it. I’m game to oblige. And I am difficult to shock, I assure you. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Urgency pounded in her veins. Her gaze fell to his mouth. His most alluring mouth. Just the sensation of his lips on her neck had felt too much like heaven. Oh, there was something she most definitely wanted him to do. Long ago, she’d filled pages in her journal imagining what it would feel like.

“Kiss me,” she had Elise say.

She saw surprise flash in his eyes. She’d managed to shock him after all. The request for a kiss wasn’t something a man usually heard from a strumpet, she supposed. But at the moment, she didn’t care.

To her delight, he lowered his mouth. Parting her lips, she tipped her chin up. He stopped short, barely touching her lips.

“Where?” he whispered into her mouth.

Where?
He was truly beginning to frustrate her. She had a strong urge to simply grab his ears and haul his mouth down onto hers.

“My lips.” Was it not obvious?

“Mmmm, I see.” He brushed his lips ever so lightly over hers. Instantly she lifted her head off the blankets, seeking more contact with his mouth. He pulled back ever so slightly, keeping his lips close, but still didn’t give her the kiss she craved. He was going to be sporting a serious bruise soon!

“Where else do you want me to kiss you?”
Where else?
“Tell me,” he coaxed while his mouth continued to hover over hers.

Why couldn’t he just get on with this?

“My neck,” she offered. Once the words were out of her mouth, she was flooded with a warm rush.

“And?”

“Where else?”

How many more places did he need her to mention? How many more places did a man kiss a woman? Maddeningly, it was clear he wasn’t going to proceed until he was satisfied by her answer.

“And . . .” There
was
another place that came to mind where she wanted him to kiss her. Again. “My . . . breasts.” Never in her life had she uttered such a brazen request. But then again, she wasn’t Sabine at the moment, was she?

He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. Dimples adorned his gorgeous smile. “Anyplace else?”