“Touch me,” he commanded roughly.
With a tiny groan she arched back to regard him with a troubled gaze.
“I have warned you that I am not my mother.”
He frowned, gripping her hips to press her firmly against his aching erection. This was hardly the moment to chat about her mother.
“So you have said, although I haven’t the least notion what this has to do with the Countess,” he growled.
Her hands trembled, but she did not pull them away from his chest. “You are not the first gentleman to presume I am eager for an affair just because my mother enjoyed such a blatant liaison with the Emperor.”
Just for a moment Stefan’s heart twisted at the sight of the vulnerability that shimmered in her wide eyes. She appeared so damned innocent with her flushed cheeks and her bright curls tumbled about her face. It stirred a protective instinct that sent a chill of alarm down his spine.
He narrowed his gaze as he studied the angelic face that might very well disguise the heart of a viper. He would be a fool to forget that for a moment.
“And you would not be the first woman to return my kisses with the hope of trapping a duke into marriage,” he smoothly countered.
She blinked, as if shocked by his words. “I would never—”
“And neither would I,” he interrupted, kissing her with a fierce demand. “I desire you,” he rasped, his lips moving down the line of her collarbone. “I ache for you. It is that simple.”
“Dear lord,” she moaned, her fingers skating over his chest as he once again found the tip of her breast to suckle her with a growing insistence. “There is nothing simple about this.”
She was right.
Lust was simple, but this…
Grimly thrusting aside the voice of warning in the back of his head, Stefan nudged her legs apart with his knee, his hand moving over her hip until he could tease the inner skin of her thigh.
She gave a small cry of pleasure and Stefan hastily covered her lips in a smothering kiss. It was not fear of discovery that troubled him; it was fear he might very well shoot anyone stupid enough to walk through the door and interrupt him.
Returning his kiss with an untutored enthusiasm, Leonida dug her nails into his back. Stefan growled his pleasure, his hand seeking the intimate cleft between her legs. She was already damp and his finger slid through the slick folds, a sweet temptation that made his erection pulse with an angry demand for release.
Guided by her soft pants and moans, Stefan caressed her with a growing urgency, goading her to even greater pleasure. She began to stir restlessly in his arms, seeking a relief to the tension he could feel clenching her muscles.
“Easy,” he murmured, grasping one of her wandering hands to press it against his arousal.
He groaned at the raw pleasure. Even through his buckskins he could feel the heat of her fingers as they curved tentatively around his shaft.
Using one hand to guide her fingers over his arousal, he used the other to continue pleasuring her, their rasping breaths the only sound to break the silence of the grotto.
“Stefan…I need…”
“I know, my dove, trust me,” he muttered, barely recognizing the irony of his words.
In this moment he could think of nothing beyond the sight of Leonida’s beautiful face as her eyes widened and her mouth parted in a silent scream of pleasure.
Her first taste of
passion, but not her last, he silently swore.
Struck by her beauty, Stefan was caught off guard when her fingers tightened around him. With a strangled moan, he thrust his hips forward and his powerful release exploded. Gasping for air, he leaned heavily against her, struggling to remain upright as the shattering climax pulsed through his body.
Christ, what had the woman done to him?
CHAPTER SIX
WAITING UNTIL THE DINNER GONG had echoed through the vast house, Leonida glided through the thankfully empty corridor to slip into the Duchess’s room.