He wanted her with him, but hadnt yet decided what he wanted to sayor rather, how to say it. He sat her beside him; as he took his own seat at the tables head, she regarded him calmly, then turned to Gordon on her left and asked him about something.
The party had relaxed even further, all the members entirely comfortable in each others company. He felt comfortable ignoring them all; sitting back, his fingers crooked about the stem of his wineglass, as the endless chatter flowed over and around him he let his gaze rest on his chatelaines golden head while their day replayed in his mind.
All in all it had been a distinct success, yet he hadnt beenstill wasntpleased by the way shed evokeddeliberately and knowingly provokedhis temper over the bridge. Hed asked her to in a way, but he hadnt imagined shed succeed to anything like the extent she had.
She had effectively manipulated him, albeit with his implied consent. He couldnt recall the last time anyone had successfully done so; that she had, and so easily, left him feeling oddly vulnerablenot a feeling with which he was
familiar, one the marcher lord he truly was didnt approve of in the least.
However, against that stood the successes of the day. First in dealing with Falwell, then in deciding the stewards replacement, and lastly over the bridge. Hed wanted to illustrate one point, to demonstrate it in a way she, rational female that she was, couldnt fail to see, and between them theyd succeeded brilliantly.
Regardless
he let his gaze grow more intent, until she felt it and glanced his way. He shifted toward her; she turned back and excused herself to Gordon, then faced him and raised her brows.
He locked his eyes on hers. Why didnt you simply tell me about the children using the bridge?
She held his gaze. If I had, the effect would have been
distanced. You asked for something dramatic, to give you something urgent to take to the aldermenif you hadnt seen the children, but simply been told of them, it wouldnt have been the same. She smiled.
You
wouldnt have been the same.
He wouldnt have felt like handing the aldermen their heads. He hesitated, then, still holding her gaze, inclined his head. True. Lifting his glass, he saluted her. We make a good team.
Which was the point hed been bent on illustrating.
He might tie her to him with passion, but to be sure of holding her he needed more. A lady like her needed occupationan ability to achieve. As his wife, shed be able to achieve even more than she currently could; when the time came, he wasnt going to be backward in pointing that out.
She smiled, lifted her glass, and touched the rim to his. Indeed.
He watched her sip, then swallow, felt something in him tighten. Incidentally
He waited until her gaze returned to his eyes. Its customary when a gentleman gives a lady a token of his appreciation, for that lady to show her apprecia
tion in return.
Her brows rose, but she didnt look away. Instead, a faintdistinctly arousingsmile flirted about the corners of her lips. Ill bear that in mind.
Do.
Their gazes touched, locked; the connection deepened. Around them the company was in full voice, the bustle of the footmen serving, the clink of cutlery and the clatter of china a cacophony of sound and a sea of colorful movement swirling all about them, yet it all faded, grew distant, while between them that indefinable connection grew taut, gripped and held.
Expectation and anticipation flickered and sparked.
Her breasts swelled as she drew in a breath, then she looked away.
He glanced down, at his fingers curved about the bowl of the wineglass; setting it down, he shifted in his chair.
At least the company had tired of amateur theatricals; he inwardly gave thanks. The meal ended and Minerva left his side; he kept the passing of the port to the barest minimum, then led the gentlemen to rejoin the ladies in the drawing room.
After exchanging one look, he made no attempt to join her; with heightened passion all but arcing between them, it was simply too dangerousnot even this company were that blind. Outwardly idly amiable, he chatted to some of his sisters friends, yet he knew the instant Minerva slipped from the room.
She didnt return. He gave her half an hour, then left the garrulous gathering and followed her up the stairs into the keep. Slowing, he glanced at the shadows wreathing the corridor to her room, wondered, but then continued on. To his apartments, to his bedroom.
She was there, lying in his bed.
Halting in the doorway, he smiled, the gesture laden with every ounce of the predatory impulses coursing his veins.
Shed left no candles burning, but the moonlight streamed
in, burnishing her hair as it rippled across his pillows, gilding the curves of her bare shoulders with a pearlescent sheen.
No nightgown, he noted.
She lay propped high amid the pillows; shed been looking out at the moon-drenched night, but had turned her head to watch him. Through the dark, he felt her gaze slide over himsensed anticipation heighten, tighten.
He remained where he was and let it build.
Let it grow and strengthen until, when he finally stirred and walked forward, it felt as if some invisible silken rope had looped around him and drew him on.
The sight of her lying there, a willing gift, a reward, racked the hunger within him up another notch, set a primitive thrum in his blood.
She was his for the taking. In whatever manner his ducal self decreed.
Her willing surrender was implicit in her silent waiting.
He walked to the tallboy by the wall. Shrugging off his coat, he tossed it on a nearby chair, unbuttoned his waistcoat as he planned how best to use the opportunity to further his aim.
To advance his campaign.
Undressing casually was an obvious first step; deliberately drawing out the moments before he joined her with an activity that underscored his intent would increase her already heightened awareness, of him and all he and she would shortly do.
Drawing the diamond pin from his cravat, he laid it on the tallboy, then unhurriedly unwound the linen band.
When he drew his shirt off, he heard her shift beneath the sheets.
When he tossed his trousers aside and turned, she stopped breathing.
His stride slow and deliberate, he walked to her side of the bed. For an instant, he stood looking down at her; her gaze slowly rose from his groin to his chest, then eventually to his face. Trapping her wide eyes, he reached for the covers,
lifted them as he held out his hand. Come. Get up.
Anticipation flashed through her, a sharp, fiery wave spreading beneath her skin. Her mouth dry, Minerva searched his face, all hard angles and shadowed planes, the unyielding, uninformative expression that simply stated: primitive male. She licked her lips, saw his eyes follow the small movement. Why?
His eyes returned to hers. He didnt answer, simply held the covers up, implacably held out his hand, and waited.
Cool air slipped beneath the raised sheets and found her skin. He, she knew, would be radiating heat; all she had to do to quell the shivers threatening was to stand and let him draw her near.
And then what?
An even bigger shiver of anticipationa telltale sign he wouldnt missthreatened to overwhelm her. Lifting her hand, she placed her fingers in his, and let him draw her out of the bed, off it and onto her feet.
He walked backward, drawing her with him, until they both stood within the shaft of silvery moonlight, until they were both bathed by the pale glow. Her breath suspended, trapped in her chest, she couldnt drag her eyes from hima magnificent male animal, powerful and strong, every muscled curve, every ridge and line, etched in molten silver.
His fingers tightening on hers, he tugged her to him, drew her inexorably, irresistibly, into his arms. Into an embrace that was both cool and heated; his hands slid knowingly over her skin, assessing, caressing, as his arms slowly closed and trapped her, then cinched further, easing her against him, against the hot hardness of his utterly male frame.
His hands spread on her back, molded her to him; his dark eyes watched, drank in her expression as their bodies met, bare breasts to naked chest, her hips to his thighs
she closed her eyes and shivered.
The hard ridge of his erection seared like a branding rod against her taut belly.
She sucked in a breath, opened her eyes, only to find him
closing the distance. His lips found hers, covered them, possessed them, not with any conquering force but with a languid passion, one all the more evocative, all the more compelling, for being so unhurrieda statement of intent he had no reason to make more stridently; she would be his however he wishedthey both knew it.
The knowledge seeped into her even as she gave him her lips, then her mouth, then engaged in a hot, but undriven duel of tongues; shed come to his room with the thought of rewarding him high in her mind. Rewarding him required no active action from her; she could simply let him take all he wished, follow his lead, and hed be satisfied.
But would she?
Passivity wasnt her style, and she wanted this, tonight, to be a gift from hersomething she gave him, not something she surrendered.
Because he wasnt whipping them along, the reins fast in his grasp, opportunity was hers for the taking. So she tookslid one hand between them and closed it firmly about the rod of his erection. Felt certainty bloom when he stilled, as if her touch held the power to completely distract him.
Taking advantage of the momentary hiatus, she eased her other hand down to join the first, linking them about his rigid member in tactile homageand through the fading kiss sensed every last particle of his awareness center on where she held him.
Slowly breaking from the kiss, she moved her palmswatched his face, confirming that her touch, her caresses, possessed the power to capture him. His arms eased as his attention shifted; his hold on her weakened enough for her to ease back.
Far enough to look down, so she could see what she was doing and better experiment.
Hed let her touch him before, but then shed been all but overwhelmedthered been so much of him to explore. Now, more familiar with his body, more comfortable standing naked before him, less distracted by the wonder of his
chest, the heavy muscles of his arms, the long powerful columns of his thighs, no longer held in thrall by his lips, she could extend her explorations to what she most wanted to learnwhat pleased him.
She stroked, then let her fingers wander; his chest swelled as he drew in a tight breath.
Glancing at his face, she saw his eyes, dark desire burning, glinting from beneath the thick fringe of his lashes. Took in his clenched jaw, the muscles taut with a tension that was slowly spreading through his body.
Knew he wouldnt let her play for long.
In a flash of recollection, she remembered a long-ago afternoon in London, and the illicit secrets shared by her wilder peers.
She smiledand saw his gaze sharpen on her lips. Felt the rod between her hands jerk faintly.
Looking into those dark eyes lit by smoldering passion, she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Knew exactly what she wanted to do, needed to do, to balance the scales of give and take between them.
She took half a step back, lowered her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then ran it down the column of his throat and the long length of his chest, all the way down to where her palms and fingers were firmly locked about him, one hand above the other, one thumb cruising the sensitive edge of the broad bulbous head.
Before he could stop her, she sank to her knees.
Sensed his shockcompounded it by angling the stiff rod to her face, parting her lips, and sliding them over the luscious, delicate flesh, slowly taking him into the warm welcome of her mouth.
Shed heard enough of the theory to know what she should do; the practice was a trifle harderhe was large, long, and thick, but she was determined.
Royce finally managed to get his lungs to work, to haul in a desperate breath, but he couldnt drag his eyes from her, from the sight of her golden head bent to his groin as she
worked her mouth over his straining erection.
The ache in his loins, in his balls and his shaft, intensified with every sweet lap of her tongue, every long, slow suck.
He felt he should stop her, bring the moment to a swift halt. It wasnt that he didnt like what she was doinghe loved every second of tactile delight, loved the sight of her on her knees before him, his shaft buried between her luscious lipsbut
he neither expected nor generally had ladies service him in this way.
They were usually too exhausted after hed had his way with themand his way always came first.
He should, but wasnt going to, stop her. Instead, he acceptedaccepted the pleasure she lavished on him, let his handshovering about her headclose, let his fingers tunnel through her silky hair and grip, gently guide
She eased him deeper, then deeper still, until his engorged head was in her throat. Her tongue wrapped around his length and slowly rasped.
Chest swelling, eyes closing, he let his head tip back, fought to stifle a groanfought to let her go on, to let her have her way.
To let her have him.
But there was only so far he could go. Only so much of the wet heaven of her mouth he could endure.
Her hands about the base of his shaft, shed found her rhythm; her confidence had grown, and with it her dedication. Lungs screaming, nerves beyond taut, he fought to give her one more momentthen he forced himself to slip a thumb between her lips and draw his throbbing length from her mouth.
