Her legs slid against his, then went wide, wrapping about his hips so she anchored herself completely to him. Increasing his pace, he thrust deeply, as deep as he could get, trying not to go too fast for fear of ending their lovemaking too soon.
“Let go, Cam,” she whispered against his mouth, her tongue darting out to lick. “I want to see you lose control.”
No. He couldn’t. Former lovers complained of his aggressiveness in bed before. Women he’d dallied with who were never satisfied with what he could offer, always criticizing his every move. None of them able to look past his speech affliction and focus on bringing him pleasure.
Until Daphne.
“Please.” She rested a hand against his cheek and he opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her expression unguarded, completely open. “I can sense you’re holding back. I want to feel you. I want to know what it’s like, to be your complete focus.”
“I don’t want to—” he gritted his teeth when she shifted, sending him deeper, “—hurt you.”
“I don’t believe you could.” She caressed his cheek, her index finger tracing down the length of his nose. “Please, Cam. I’m begging you.”
Ah, Christ. Her words were sweet, the glow in her eyes even sweeter, and he rose up on his propped hands, slamming inside her with everything he had. Again and again he pounded within her welcoming body, the wet sounds of their connected flesh driving him on, driving him mad. She wrapped herself around him, held on for dear life, and when he felt the first quivering of her inner walls clenching and releasing around the length of his cock, that was it.
He let the climax take over, shouting her name hoarsely as his entire body shook with the intensity of it. Her whimpers and cries seemed to urge his completion on and he spilled himself deep inside her. Again and again, until he felt as if his body had been completely pumped dry.
She stroked him, slipping her hands down his sweat-dampened back. The rhythm of their harsh breathing matched, she seemed to slow hers as if to relax him. He pressed his cheek close to hers. Kissed her on her earlobe and made her squirm.
He never wanted to withdraw from her embrace again. It felt so good, so right in her arms. But what would they do now? What was he supposed to say? His previous encounters with women had always been casual. This woman, she might want more. Hell, he wanted more.
He just wasn’t sure how to ask for it.
Chapter Nine
“If I have to listen to her sing one more song, I just might strangle her.”
Daphne smiled, speaking between her clenched teeth to her brother. “Sounds delightful. Then you would put her out of her misery for good.”
Hugh chuckled and shook his head. “More like put us out of our misery. The lady cannot sing, no matter how hard she tries.”
They were speaking ill of their hostess, so of course they had to pretend to smile and nod as if they were enjoying the horrendous renditions she pushed upon them. Her husband beamed with pride. The other guests looked painfully uncomfortable.
It was one of the worst nights out Daphne had spent in recent memory.
It didn’t help that she hadn’t heard a word from Camden since their one blissful night together. Her cheeks heated at the memory and she gripped her fan, flapping it hurriedly to cool her skin. They’d stayed up the entire night and far into the early morning hours. Exploring each other’s bodies, they’d brought themselves to climax again and again together. She’d slept like the dead the entire day after he left. Had woken up that evening, fully expecting he’d call upon her.
He had not. She hadn’t seen him again. And that was almost a fortnight ago.
The disappointment that filled her was nearly overwhelming. Perhaps he didn’t care about her after all. He’d never said such a thing, though he’d behaved like a man who cared. He was, after all, only a man. A man who was known for his cold, heartless behavior, for being arrogant and rude. She never believed him cruel.
Until now.
His reputation had conflicted greatly with the man she’d been with that night. Yet the description matched perfectly with the behavior currently exhibited by him. How his neglect hurt. Yet she put on a brave face. Continued to attend various gatherings all over London accompanied by Hugh in the hopes she’d catch a glimpse of Hartwell, but so far, nothing.
It was as if he’d disappeared.
“You’ve been in a mood.” Hugh nudged her shoulder with his own, a scowl on his face. He looked so much like their father, his brown hair turned golden from the candlelight that shone down upon them from the large chandelier hanging above.
She smiled and shook her head. She appreciated Hugh’s company more than he’d ever know. “My mind is elsewhere tonight. I’m sorry.”
His frown deepened. “What’s troubling you, sister?”
Their host turned in his chair to glare at them and Daphne pressed her lips together. “We’ll talk later,” she whispered from the side of her mouth.
“It’s Hartwell, isn’t it?”
Shock washed over her, chilling her to the very bone. “What?” Her harsh whisper rang loud and several people sent curious glances their way.