Whirling her around, he removed her shift, and she kicked off her drawers until she was naked. His eyes flared with heat, drinking her in languidly. He lifted his head, and those hot eyes met hers as he curled his hands around her shoulders and walked her backward. With one push, she fell onto the bed with a surprised cry.
His gaze focused on the spot between her legs, and despite her recent boldness, she covered herself with her hand. He shook his head and dropped to his knees, gripping her about the waist and drawing her close so she hung on the edge of the mattress with his face directly in front of her hot center.
“Wh-what are you doing?” He removed her hand and spread her thighs wide, putting her on display. Her cheeks heated. Had her husband ever looked at her in such a manner? Certainly not. She felt so completely exposed that she became increasingly uncomfortable with every second that passed.
“Looking at you.” His voice was rough. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for the briefest moment before reopening them to pin her where she lay. “I can smell you.”
She turned her head, fighting the mortification that wanted to take over. She shouldn’t be embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him. She should embrace it, revel in it and, most of all, learn from it. Their affair would be short, and what if she wanted to take another lover upon his departure?
No. She couldn’t imagine taking another lover. Bedingfield was the only one she desired. One tryst in the carriage and he mastered her body. She quivered in anticipation of what he would do next.
Tilting her head back, she sniffed. The heady scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, mixing with a muskier, more masculine smell. Their combined aroma intoxicated her, and her limbs grew weak. The dampness between her legs increased, tickling the very insides of her thighs. She’d never reacted to her husband like this.
Ever.
Garrett brushed his damp mouth against her thigh, and a jolt moved through her at the sensation. What was he doing, kissing her there? Her husband had never attempted such a thing.
He did it again, higher this time, and she reached out and rested her hand atop his head. She should push him away, tell him what he was attempting to do was wrong, indecent, far too wicked.
He shifted, his breath a hot blast across her quivering center, and he kissed her there.
Licked her there.
She curled her fingers into the silky softness of his hair as a moan tore from her throat. He licked her again, teased her folds with his tongue and circled the knot of nerves where her pleasure was focused. She cried out, arching into his mouth, and he slid his hands underneath to cup her bottom, holding her close as he feasted on her.
It felt so agonizingly good that it nearly drove her mad. He tormented her with his lips and tongue, and she writhed beneath him, straining toward her release, which was surprising. How quickly his earlier promise was coming true. She tugged at his hair, and he slipped one of his hands from her bottom and slid a finger deep inside her. He pumped once, twice, and crooked his finger, dragging it against her swollen, sensitive flesh. That was all it took.
She fell apart beneath his mouth, her whimpers of his name echoing throughout the quiet of her chamber. She clamped her thighs about his head and held him there while her body was racked with tremors. Somewhere far off in her mind she knew she should be ashamed of her quick reaction, but she wasn’t. She literally sobbed with the exquisite deliciousness of her climax as the waves shimmered throughout her limbs.
Tremors shook her, and he fumbled with his trousers, removing them completely, then moved up her body. He covered her, pressing her into the mattress, and with one thrust he was inside her.
She cried out at the sensation, her still-trembling inner walls clutching him as he filled her. He pushed inside her again and again, his jaw gritted tight, the muscles in his neck straining in stark relief. She stared up at him, ensnared by the beauty of his barely restrained control. He slapped his hips against hers, and their gazes held. Groaning, he swooped down and crushed her mouth in a devastating kiss. She skittered her hands up and down his back, pressing against the firm muscles of his buttocks, and sighed with pleasure as he sank deeper within her.
It was so good. She hadn’t known being with a man could be like this, could feel like this, and when she broke their kiss, they watched each other as he filled her over and over. No words were spoken, but none were necessary, for they would have ruined the moment.
It was enough to stare into his eyes and feel his body moving within hers. She’d never been so utterly connected with someone. The moment was fraught with intimacy, and she almost wanted to weep from the intensity.
He stiffened and stopped, a moan tearing from his throat as he threw his head back. He erupted inside her, filling her with jerking spurts of his seed. She followed him, a climax washing over her, stronger than the last, and clutched at him, clung to him as if she never wanted to let go.
And she didn’t.
Chapter Four
They’d spent the last two weeks constantly fucking, and he still couldn’t get the woman out of his system, Garrett thought grimly as he waited on the sidelines of yet another dance floor as Lady Renwick danced with yet another man. She made him reckless, hungry, in constant need of her. He’d never been utterly enthralled with a woman, taking a secret sense of pride in his cool detachment where the fairer sex was concerned. Allowing one’s emotions to become involved only caused trouble. His father had warned him of that in his youth.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop wanting to be with her, talking to her, kissing her, buried inside her…
Since the two of them had taken up this little affair, Julia had become the belle of the season. Men swarmed her at every event she attended, vying for a dance, a chance to offer her a refreshment or speak a few idle words. All the while he was nearby, observing, coveting her, wishing like hell he could tell the rest of her potential suitors to bugger off. She belonged to him.
But he couldn’t. Their relationship was a well-kept secret.
Jealousy flared deep. He took a sip from his glass and exhaled loudly as the spirits burned down his throat. Just looking at her drove him mad with desire. Watching her laugh at whatever the idiot she was dancing with had said. Just seeing her in another man’s arms made him want to tear the gloating arse from limb to limb. She was merely being polite, he was sure, for only one man could make her moan with pleasure from his touch alone. Only one man could make her come so hard she sobbed his name every single time she fell apart in his arms.
And he was that man.
The set ended, and she excused herself from her dance partner with a polite smile. Garrett had no clue who he was, not that it mattered. No one mattered but the woman who stood only feet away, clad in a gorgeous emerald-green gown that accentuated her lush figure. The color emphasized the creaminess of her skin, the darkness of her hair and eyes.
Her gaze drifted and met his for the briefest moment. He stared at her, bold as he pleased, and flicked his head toward the hall behind him, hoping she would catch the hint.