The Husband Trap (12 page)

Adrian pulled Violet up and out of her chair, her legs shaking as he settled her onto his lap.

“Kiss me, my dear,” he urged. “Kiss me.”

He wrapped a steadying arm low around her back, held her and waited.

She blinked, surprised and uncertain. She’d expected
him
to kiss
her.
Apparently he was leaving the matter quite literally in her hands, despite his obvious need, pressing as it was against her hip. Last night she might have found his physical response unsettling. Tonight, resting warm and relaxed in his arms, brandy buzzing pleasantly in her head, she only wanted to lean closer. To touch him, taste him, pleased by her blossoming knowledge that he desired her.

She gazed at his beautiful face, into his dark, compelling eyes. Her lashes fluttered downward as she studied his lips. So strong and masculine, parted in anticipation of her touch.

Tentative, hesitant, she placed her mouth against his. Soft as a butterfly’s wings, she moved her lips, brushing, gliding, absorbing the tiny shock waves that pinged like firefly lights through her system.

He remained acquiescent, resting his head against the chair back to let her explore, at her own pace, in her own way. Somehow, she forgot to be afraid. Forgot all the reasons why she might be reluctant to let things progress between them.

Needing the contact, she slid her fingers into his hair. It curled against her flesh. Silky, springy, luxurious. She closed her eyes, parted her lips and pressed them more insistently against his own. She waited, expecting him to take over, to drag her into the maelstrom the way he had last night, to control her, command her.

When he didn’t, when he went no further than the dictates of her own uncertain touch, she pulled away. “Why aren’t you kissing me back?”

“I am kissing you back.”

“No,” she whispered. “I mean, why aren’t you kissing me the way you did last night?”

“Is that what you want? If you do, you must tell me. I am completely at your disposal this evening, my dear. It’s up to you to lead the way, set the pace. If you want to take it slowly, we’ll go slowly. If you want to take it fast, we’ll go fast. You must tell me everything you desire, everything you like.”

“And if I don’t know what I like? What I desire?”

“Then use your instincts. You’ll find they’re rarely wrong.”

She gulped down a breath and tried to banish the pesky nerves that threatened to halt her. “Kiss me,” she commanded this time.

He feathered his lips over hers, slowly, softly.

“No, harder,” she breathed.

He kissed her harder.

“Openmouthed, like you did last night.”

He did as she asked and sent her senses reeling. Remembering he was waiting for her, she forced herself to make the next move, touching her tongue to his. Timidly at first, then with increasing boldness, tangling her flesh with his own in a dance both wet and wild. He met her movements, matched them, lips and teeth and tongues mating in an imitation of the most intimate act of all. She drew upon him. He drew upon her until she was left gasping, quaking. Her lungs were screaming for air when she broke away. She rested her forehead against his cheek.

“What else?” he panted, his breath warm in her ear. “What else would you enjoy?”

Images popped into her mind. Carnal images that should have made her blush from shame but didn’t. She shifted against him, restless, aching. “Touch me,” she whispered.

“Where?”

She knew where, but she couldn’t say the words, not yet, certainly not out loud. But she could show him. Her body yearned, urging her on.

With eyes closed, she found his hand, placed it over her breast. “Here,” she whispered. “Touch me here.”

He cupped her flesh, molded it as if it had been formed exclusively for his touch. He stroked. He fondled. He caressed. Passion grew, blossoming within her, lush as the roses that flourished on the walls outside the house. A fragrant heat ripened between them, rich with pleasure, dark and forbidden in its intimacy.

He unbuttoned her robe, peeled it off her shoulders, down her arms, leaving it to drape onto the floor. Skimming a finger under the slender strap that held up her gown, he eased the narrow bit of material downward. “Yes?” he confirmed.

“Yes,” she agreed.

She moaned when his warm fingers touched her bare breast, tracing a path across her skin. He kissed her, nibbling and plucking. Teasing her. Tempting her. His scent swam in her brain, a dizzying joy. He pulled away after a time, measured the weight of the breast cupped in his palm. He finessed a thumb over her taut nipple. “Yes?”

She understood what he meant. Did she want him to kiss her there? She nodded, realizing she wanted it very badly.

He eased her slightly back and away before arching her over the firm safety of his arm. He took her flesh into his mouth, loving her with his tongue and teeth and lips. Violet whimpered, panting at the volatile pleasure, her body drowning beneath relentless waves of heat and delight. She tried to raise her hand. She needed to touch him, but the nightgown strap at her elbow prevented her.

Sensing her desire, her frustration, Adrian reached up, tore the strap loose, then ripped the other one aside as well. He moved back from her long enough for the bodice to drop to her waist, baring her fully to his eyes, his touch.

Violet gasped. Then she laughed. Seconds later, she was groaning, her eyelids fluttering shut as he bent his head to her other breast.

Her hands free, she stroked his head, caressed his neck, traced the outer curve of his ear, unconsciously urging him to take even greater liberties. He reached down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and insinuated his hand beneath. When she stiffened, he stopped, raised his heated gaze to meet her own.

“Too soon?” he asked. Gliding, he smoothed his hand upward over her knee. He paused and began to draw lazy circles there, first above the joint, then below. Above and below in a belly-clenching figure eight.

She trembled and hung her head. “I don’t know. Yes,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek, tasted his lips.
So sweet, so sweet,
she thought, her mind spinning. “I mean no. It’s not too soon.” She sighed in longing and surrender. “I mean all right.”

A small answering shudder ran through his body. He crushed his lips to hers, drinking from her, plunging them fast and deep into a world where only they two existed. Where she forgot everything but the exquisite way he made her feel.

His hand moved, gliding higher this time as he dotted random, leisurely kisses over her face and neck and shoulders. He coaxed her thighs open, threading his fingers through the nest of short curls above, then onward, parting her moist flesh for his exploration. And she let him, burying her face against his neck, floating, abruptly helpless.

Beyond speech, she hung suspended, trapped inside the glorious sensations he was igniting. Her body burned. Hot. So hot, it seemed she might be consumed by the flames, reduced to cinders. She gasped as a rough, edgy storm clawed her. An urgency she barely understood driving her, making her arch and open to him. She clutched his robe in her fists as he sent her spiraling upward, her entire existence suddenly poised on the brink. The brink of what? she wondered. Then he flicked his fingers and gave her the stunning answer, sending her plummeting wildly over the edge.

She cried out as convulsive pleasure swamped her. Yanking her downward into a merciless undertow that threatened to drown her before flinging her upward again, to toss her whole and safe once more onto dry land.

Panting, replete, she curled against him, little electrical hums jangling every nerve ending in her body. Yet before she had a chance to regain her senses, he was urging her upward again. Driving her body to hunger anew, greedy and unrelenting in its need.

“I can’t,” she cried, shocked by the response of her body.

“You can,” he insisted, threading his hand into her hair. He steadied her head, savaged her mouth and thrust his tongue deep, at the same instant caressing her down low with a wicked, wild stroke.

She shattered, screaming her release.

Adrian swallowed the sound, reveling in it, knowing he had brought her successfully to peak. Not once, but twice. She collapsed against him, breasts heaving. He cupped one, traced her pretty nipple and a pale blue vein that ran just underneath her milky skin. He could wait, he told himself, a little while longer anyway.

They were only getting started.

He let her have a minute or two to recover, then stood her on her feet. He kept a strong hand at her waist to make certain she didn’t crumple to the floor. Her nightgown hung bunched around her hips, barely clinging. He gave it a slight nudge, watched it whisper into a silken pool at her feet.

Adrian stood and placed Violet’s hands on the belt looped at his waist. “Will you help me untie it?”

She quivered, hesitated, then tugged at the tie, ineffectually at first but gaining confidence with additional effort. She slipped the belt free of its knot. The folds of his robe opened, partially exposing him to her gaze.

“Help me with the rest,” he invited.

She surprised him by skimming her hands up over his chest, along his shoulders, down his arms. His robe joined her nightgown on the floor. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed, tumbled them down upon it onto their sides.

He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek, dusted a few kisses across her lips. Then he groaned and rolled onto his back.

Violet lay next to him, confused. Why wasn’t he kissing her? Touching her? Why wasn’t he taking her as he had done last night? Surely he was not yet satisfied. She could tell from the rampant condition of his body that he was not.

She leaned up on an elbow. “Adrian?”

He reached up, played with the ends of her hair. “Hmm?”

“Aren’t you…aren’t you going to…”

“To what?”

“You know. You must want to take your pleasure too.”

“Did I pleasure you, my sweet?”

She didn’t see how it was possible to blush at such a moment, lying utterly naked next to him, but she did. She lowered her eyes. “Yes, you know you did.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“But what of you?”

“I told you, tonight is for you.”

“But I cannot…well…leave you like that.” She gestured toward his unmistakable erection. “Isn’t it uncomfortable?” she whispered.

“Hmm, but I will manage.” He paused. “Unless you’d like to help.”

“Help?”

“Yes, make love to me, my dear. Touch me, kiss me, anything you wish. I leave myself to your tender mercies. My comfort, as you called it, is quite literally in your hands.” He closed his eyes.

Violet stared, nonplussed by his actions for the second time that evening. There was no understanding the man tonight. Touch him? Kiss him? She’d assumed he would keep doing those things to her. And such things. Her inner muscles clenched at the memories, a fresh wave of desire crashing through her. She hadn’t known such delights were possible, had never even imagined. Did it feel that wonderful for him when he was touched? Could she please him as he had pleased her despite her lack of experience?

Adrian waited in a torment of need. He feared he might die if she didn’t accept his offer and take the initiative. Merciful heaven, what if she decided to curl up next to him and go to sleep? He clenched his teeth in an agony of frustration at the idea.

Then his prayers were answered, her small cool hands skimming experimentally over his chest, arms, shoulders. He forced himself to lie still as the inferno of want inside him raged hotter, his body thrumming under her untutored caresses. Down his stomach and sides, over his hips and thighs, knees, calves and ankles. She even stroked his feet. She touched him everywhere. Everywhere, that is, but the one place that ached the most for her attention.

He slung an arm over his face and steeled himself to endure more of her exquisite embrace.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her words husky, quiet. “Do you like it?”

“If I liked it any more I fear I’d unman myself here on the sheets.” Peeking out from under his arm, he caught her look, realized she didn’t fully understand, not even now. “Yes, I like it,” he grated out in a strangled tone.

“Then I am doing it correctly?”

He nearly laughed. She could have given lessons to trained courtesans, her touch was so delicious. “Yes.”

“Shall I kiss you?”

“Please,” he said, his tone rough as gravel.

But she didn’t begin where he expected, her long hair brushing his chest before she parted her lips over one of his nipples. She feathered the taut nub, his muscles jumping when her tongue reached out to circle and flick.

He sensed her confidence begin to increase as she leaned upward to scatter kisses across his chin and cheeks, his throat and collarbone, before moving back to pleasure his chest once more.

He purred low in the back of his throat as she kissed her way down his stomach. Groaned when she reached his thighs. Shuddered when she licked the backs of his knees.

Then she touched the most male part of him. His arm came away from his face, his eyes flashing open as her small fingers curled in a loose clasp around his arousal.

“Oh, you are so very warm,” she whispered in a sort of awe. “Hard yet smooth, like velvet.”

A harsh, guttural moan rumbled from his throat.

She released him. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. God, no.”

Their eyes met. He reached down, took her hand and returned it to his willing flesh. Her eyes widened in astonishment and wonder, her eyelids drooping as he gently demonstrated to her how he longed to be touched.

An agile learner, she caught on quickly.

When he didn’t think he could stand any more, he pulled her hand away and rolled her over on the bed so that he lay on top. He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss, feverish with want, fervent with need. His hands raced over her lithe frame, cajoling, caressing, inciting her to riot.

And all the while, she touched him. Surrounding him with her scent. Beguiling him with her sinuous moves and fiery embrace until he could barely remember his own name.

Violet let him take her into the storm, her senses drugged on a surfeit of passion. Blood drummed a heated rhythm behind her closed eyelids. Pulse points throbbed in every extremity of her body. She ached, empty in a way she had never been empty before. As if the heart of her needed to be filled, needed to be claimed.