The Kiss of a Viscount (The Daughters of the Aristocracy) (25 page)

BOOK: The Kiss of a Viscount (The Daughters of the Aristocracy)
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But her curiosity was piqued. Her belly flipped at the mere thought of his hands on her body again, as they had been just moments before. There had been a sense of power, but power mixed with gentleness in how he held her against his solid form. And Elizabeth
wanted
to know more. Much more. When she shook herself from her reverie, she looked up to find George standing next to her chair, his hand held out to her.

“If you still wish it, Elizabeth, I would like to see to your comfort and to your pleasure.”

Chapter 22
Pleasure for Pity Sake

A sense of euphoria filled Elizabeth as she regarded George. Perhaps it was the champagne, maybe the wine, surely the food, and definitely the conversation that had relaxed her to the point that she was looking forward to whatever George had in mind for her. He had made promises as to her virtue. He was a gentleman. She was sure she could trust him to keep his word.

And then his lips covered hers in a kiss that was light and delicious. Before she could even think about returning it, or at least participating, his lips had moved to her jaw and then to the column of her neck while his hands barely touched her shoulder and the back of her head. At first, he sprinkled light kisses here and there, and then his lips took purchase near the hollow of her throat.

George moved his hands to her waist, lifting and moving her until she was in a front of an upholstered chair near the fireplace. He slowly lowered her until she was completely seated, his mouth never leaving her neck. He continued lowering himself until he knelt in front of her, his lips slowly letting go so that she she gasped as she fell back into the chair padding.

Undoing his tailcoat buttons, George quickly doffed the garment and set it aside, hoping Elkins wouldn’t chide him too badly if he happened to be the one to find it discarded on the floor. Elizabeth no longer seemed so nervous, but he could tell her body thrummed when he reached down and lifted her slippered foot to his thigh. Her leg quivered beneath his fingers as he used his other other hand to slowly remove her kid leather slipper. Her short breaths and the crackling of the fire were the only sounds in the room as he moved his fingers up the back of her calf, around the back of her knee – she inhaled sharply then – and up the outside of her thigh, the pad of his fingers seeking the ties of her garter. The ribbon gave way quickly. His other hand joined the first, sliding up the inside of her leg before reaching beneath the stocking top. Slowly, he unrolled the silken sheath, down her thigh, over her knee, around her calf. Once it was down to her ankle, he raised her foot to his mouth and placed his lips over the space just above the inside bone, gentle suckling the tender skin as Elizabeth inhaled and then softly moaned. He dared a glance up to find her head back, her throat fully exposed, her breasts barely contained by the low-cut bodice of her gown. Wanting desperately to claim the hollow of her throat where her pulse was visible, George instead concentrated on her foot, removing the stocking completely. His used his fingers to slowly stroke the sides of her foot before placing it on the floor. He moved his attention to the other foot and repeated his slow, deliberate motions, all the while aware of the quiet moaning and quick gasps that emanated from Elizabeth. Once her second stocking was off her foot, he placed a hand on the front of her calf, capturing the edge of her gown and sliding it up under his palm up until it crested her bent knee. The gown and petticoat were bunched up, hiding him from her suddenly opened eyes. His lips captured the inside of her knee, kissing it quickly before her reflexes jerked it away in response. Given the extra room between her legs, his head moved up her leg a bit more, his kisses grazing the soft, tender skin of her inner thigh.

Elizabeth whimpered, her control slipping away with every touch of his lips – and she was still in her gown! She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, only then becoming aware that one of her gloved hands was being held in his. He was tugging on each finger of the glove, carefully pulling one after the other until the entire glove slipped from her arm. He placed it next to the rolled stockings and moved to the other hand, repeating the process until the glove was entirely free. Leaning over her newly exposed hand, he reached out with his lips and pulled a small finger into his mouth, suckling it until a smile appeared on her lips. Elizabeth forced herself to sit upright and then leaned over to press her lips against his forehead.

George looked up then, the very slightest of smiles curling the corner of his mouth. Elizabeth regarded him a moment, deciding he was a rather handsome man when he was like this, at once worshipping her while playing the devil with his touching and kissing. She closed her eyes, expecting him to kiss her lips, but he instead used the opportunity to stand and to draw her up and out of the chair. He had her turned and pulled against the front of his body before she could even open her eyes in surprise.

“You must tell me to stop if you should feel the least bit ... uncomfortable. Or, if you think you’re about to faint,” George spoke quietly, his lips barely touching the skin beneath her ear.

Elizabeth started. “Faint?” she repeated, an inhalation of breath joining the word as his lips moved to her earlobe and bit gently on the flesh. She turned in his arms so that she faced him again. “Why ever would I ... faint?” One of her hands reached up to grip his shoulder, as if she needed it for support.

George paused in his nibbling and straightened a bit. He couldn’t help but notice the hand on his shoulder stayed where it was. Elizabeth’s eyes found his, a hint of worry evident in their gaze.
How should I answer?
He could be blunt and simply tell her that he expected to bring her to ecstasy at least a few times and she might be overcome by the excessive pleasure of it all. But to do so would be boastful of his newly learned skills.

And what if she didn’t respond as his mistress had?

Josie was experienced in matters of a carnal nature. As experienced as she was at giving pleasure, she also knew how to allow his touch and tongue and lips to bring her pleasure, how to open herself to the possibilities of further pleasure, even when she claimed to be sated. “The French call it
la petit mort
,” he finally stated quietly, his expression remaining impassive.

Elizabeth’s French lessons slowly resolved the meaning of George’s words.
The little death
.

Not
the big tickle
as her mother had said in an off-hand manner a few days ago.

Perhaps the little death came after the big tickle, when you were so out of breath from the incredible sensation you simply fainted. The mere thought of such pleasure sent a delightful shiver through Elizabeth’s belly. Her eyes widened suddenly in response, in understanding of what she’d just felt – arousal – and the cause of it – mere words spoken by a man that, until this moment, she’d considered a means to an end.

Unbidden thoughts of Gabriel Wellingham surfaced just then. With his appreciative glances and flirty words, he had made her feel as if he desired her. But at no time had any of his words caused this kind of response in her. Never had she experienced
arousal
with him – even when she thought of him while she lay waiting for sleep to take her late at night.

When her thoughts returned to George, her full attention on the not-so-handsome visage just inches from her gaze, her body responded again, this time in such a way she could not ignore the pleasant shivers, the exciting frissons that coursed through her entire being. He was looking at her as if he was memorizing every inch of her, as if he hoped to read her thoughts by studying every detail of her face. He must have known, somehow, that his mere suggestion of her possibly fainting would cause these skitters of pleasure beneath her skin.

Didn’t he?
If so, it did not show on his face.

How could he know?

George noted her widened eyes and sought to alleviate any fears he might have caused with his comment. “And should you be so overcome by pleasure that you do indeed faint, I promise I shall not take advantage of your situation. Other than to ... hold you,” he added hesitantly. If she did faint, he had no intention of leaving her side. He could only hope that if she did faint, she would do so
after
he’d removed her gown and other clothing so that he might use the time to memorize every inch of her body.

The thought of her naked body in his arms sparked his own arousal, his hardening manhood suddenly uncomfortable behind the placket of his breeches. He grimaced, annoyed that his body would betray his desire so early in the assignation.
Maintain control
!

Elizabeth nodded, her gaze still on him. A series of pleasant contractions skittered through her, causing her to inhale sharply. The mere thought of what George might do to her was in itself so pleasurable, she found herself realizing that what he described could truly happen. Mistaking the pained expression etched on his face as concern for her, Elizabeth nodded. “I shall try my best to remain conscious. I should not want to miss anything, after all,” she said demurely, a nervous grin replacing her own expression of concern.

George regarded her for a long moment, heartened that she could exhibit a sense of humor at a time when he knew she must be at least as nervous as he was.

And then his lips were on hers, claiming them in a gentle kiss very much like the one they’d shared in Lady Worthington’s library. Elizabeth leaned into the kiss, feeling a shock of excitement when her bosom lightly touched the front of his waistcoat. At the same moment, the tip of his tongue moved to separate her lips. Her gasp of surprise was swallowed by his tongue and his mouth, their movement over her lips and inside her mouth making her dizzy with excitement. Moving her hands to his shoulders, she first gripped his waistcoat and then used her palms to support herself; otherwise, her body would simply fall against the front of his, and wouldn’t that be too wanton?

The sensation created by one of his fingers caressing her jawline had her arching back so that her throat was full exposed to his touch. Wrapping an arm around the back of her waist to prevent her from falling, George pulled away from the kiss enough to move his lips down her neck and to the hollow of her throat. He was aware of her hands around his neck, holding on as if her life depended on it. And when the fingertips that caressed her cheek moved down her neckline, pausing to trace the line of the fabric along the tops of her breasts, he felt the jolt that nearly knocked her out of his arms. He took the opportunity to turn her body around. Before she could utter a protest or ask what he was about to do, his lips were on the back of her neck, one arm wrapped around her waist, another undoing the hooks down the middle of her back. As the fabric spread apart, he moved his kisses lower, following the bones of her spine until he’d run out of hooks. Placing the palm of his hand very slightly against her inward curve of her back, he slid it up and out along the back of her shoulder, feeling her shivers beneath his fingers as the gown was freed from one shoulder. At that moment, he confirmed she wore no corset.

And no shift.

It was nearly his undoing.

His cock sprang to life against the placket of his breeches, straining the fabric. He took a breath and steadied himself, forcing himself to concentrate on freeing the long sleeve of her gown from her arm. His finger drew down her skin, gently pulling silk past her elbow and over her hand. Her body felt almost boneless as it leaned against the front of the hard lines of his torso, her auburn curls tickling his jaw. He was sure she could feel his manhood pressing into the base of her spine as he shifted behind her to remove the other sleeve. As if in slow motion, Elizabeth raised her free hand to place it against the space just below her breasts, apparently to hold up the gown as her arm slipped out of the other sleeve.

George drew his finger back up the outside of her arm, eliciting a sigh and a gasp from Elizabeth. Her head was resting against his shoulder, and he used the opportunity to capture her earlobe with his tongue and pull it between his teeth. The sudden inhalation of her breath brought the tops of her breasts into view, forcing George to close his eyes and concentrate on suckling the soft skin of her ear and on undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. With that task completed, he moved his lips to follow her hairline to the nape of her neck while he shrugged out of one side of the waistcoat. That done, he moved his free arm to grasp her around her middle, where her arm held up the gown. He let go of her with his other arm. The waistcoat joined the tailcoat in the neat pile he’d created below. He wrapped his arm about her shoulders, sliding the tips of his fingers over the lines of her collarbone, around the hollow of her throat, and down the center of her bosom until they disappeared in her cleavage.

She was aware of the gown’s silk slipping from her breasts, of its cool slickness sliding down over her stomach, of his lips nipping at her shoulder and his hand cupping her breast. The sound of her gasp nearly brought her back to her senses, but then he’d captured a nipple between his thumb and middle finger, held it gently while barely rubbing it with the pad of his forefinger. She was lost again as his ministrations sent shivers of delight through her breast.

Her other breast, suddenly heavy and tipped with a hardening nipple, filled his other hand as he slid it up from her waist and cradled it. A thumb passed over the engorged tip, once barely making contact, and the second time pressing it and then circling it until it was round and red. The jolt of electricity that passed through her breast forced her back against the front of his body. The fabric of his shirt seemed to chafe the skin of her back, the wool of his breeches scratching through the thin fabric of her drawers.

With her head still against his shoulder, his lips took purchase along her jaw and the skin just below it. There were sounds of whimpering, of gasps and mewling that Elizabeth barely realized came from her. When one breast was suddenly released from his hand, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and watched as the hand slid down the front of her body and disappeared beneath the gown. The tapes of her drawers suddenly loosened, and the fine lawn slid down her legs to pool at her feet. After another moment, the petticoat joined the pile, the swishing of the soft fabric over her legs and her sudden inhalations the only sounds in the room.

George could feel her labored breathing, hear her soft moans, feel the entire weight of her body pressed against the front of his. Her legs seemed as if they were no longer able to hold her up; she would slide down to the floor if he didn’t get her onto the bed. He slowly pulled his hands away from her and caught her body in his arms. He carried her the few steps to the large bed – his bed. Elkins had pulled the curtains around the side of the bed facing the room and turned down the linens, leaving the expanse of white linen the perfect canvas onto which to place her. Although she still held her gown clutched to the front of her body, she had done nothing to recover her breasts. As for the rest of her body, George knew there was nothing beneath the silk but her bare skin. One of her arms lay splayed to one side. He reached down and wrapped his hand around hers, lifted it to his lips, and brushed his lips over the bare knuckles. Elizabeth’s quick inhalation of breath matched the frisson he felt shoot down her arm.

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