It was useless trying to answer him with his hand over her mouth, so she didn’t try, simply narrowing her eyes at him. He lifted his hand slightly, and his fingers trailed over her mouth again. He shifted his big, warm body, leaning over her, and she felt the weight of his chest upon her soft breasts.
“I wonder…Do you really want to see me punished? Are you such a cruel woman?”
“You deserve to be—”
But again he covered her mouth, this time with a long finger across her lips. “No, my sparrow, let me finish. I have been pondering the question, and this is what I think. You want to see me gone because you’re afraid of me.”
She shook her head in denial, but perhaps her eyes told a different story.
“Afraid of how I make you feel,” he went on, with a smile. “How long has it been, Miss Dupre, since you’ve had a lusty young man in your bed? Come, be honest with me now. I know Lord Appleby is rich, but he is definitely past his prime. How long is it since you’ve been thoroughly made love to?”
Antoinette tried to squeak a protest but his words reverberated in her head. Never, she thought. I have never been thoroughly made love to.
He moved closer still, and his lips trailed teasingly over her temple. That sensation she remembered from last night was back again, inside her, softening and melting. Her skin ached for his touch, and she had to force herself to lie still and not wriggle. And that was when he swooped over her and kissed her, his mouth firm and hot.
She responded with a mixture of need and curiosity. Even while she was telling herself she shouldn’t, her lips were clinging to his, savoring the feel and taste of him. A moment later he surprised her again as he slid his tongue between her lips.
Unexpected as it was, the sensation didn’t displease her. The opposite, in fact. The intimacy of his action thrilled her in the way he had last night, when he sucked at her breasts through the cloth of her nightgown. Antoinette heard herself whimper softly, opening her mouth wider, daringly returning the caress of his tongue with hers.
He shifted slightly, whispering in her ear. “You dislike this intensely, don’t you, Miss Dupre? Do you still want me to stop?”
“Yes,” she said huskily. “Yes, I do want you to stop.”
But it was a lie, and as he began to kiss her again, her mouth clung even more desperately to his. In just a few short moments this man, this stranger, her enemy, had set her body on fire to such an extent that she no longer cared what he had done or who he was. All she wanted was the pleasure she knew he could give her.
The tension inside her was building, growing tighter and tighter, but, infuriatingly, the release she sought eluded her. Was she doing something wrong?
She heard him groan softly. “Antoinette,” he said. “I want to kiss your breasts. I want to spread your legs and drink deep. I want to be inside you…”
Antoinette knew she should be shocked. She really should be very very shocked. She tried to think of all the reasons that such a thing was impossible, reminding herself of what she had to lose.
“No.”
But even as the protest left her lips, she felt him move. He was lying upon her now, but not heavily, supporting his weight. Still, she could feel the contours of his body and the hard shape of that part of him that made him a man, pressing to her belly through her nightgown. When she wriggled it butted against her, and she had the bizarre urge to giggle. Then his hand slid down and covered the mound of her breast, and she gasped instead. He made a sound of approval as her nipple jutted into his palm, as if eager for his attention. He found it with his finger and thumb, rolling it, tugging on it, until Antoinette heard herself moan deep in her throat.
“Stop. I command you to stop…”
“Why?” he rasped. “When we’re both enjoying it so much?”
It was true, she was enjoying it, but he was her enemy and she didn’t trust him. He was playing games with her, and they were dangerous games.
“Lovely, lovely Antoinette,” he breathed. “Command me again.”
“I command you to stop.”
He groaned as if her words added another dimension to his enjoyment of her. Pleasure spiraled through her, urging her onward to who-knew-what. This was unknown territory for her, and yet the thought of entering it was exciting. His hand ran down over her belly to the hem of her nightgown, and he drew it up. Antoinette felt the cool night air caressing her naked limbs. He sat back and looked at what he’d uncovered.
“What are you doing?” she said nervously. The pleasure receded, and she tried to sit up.
He grasped her ankles and pulled her down again. Antoinette began to protest, but just then his hand ran up her inner leg, diving into the curls between her thighs, and touching her in a way that made her forget all about running away.
“You’re ready for me,” he whispered, stroking her.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” she managed in a breathy voice. “I don’t know you.”
“Your body knows me,” he said, and his fingers worked their magic once more. “Your body wants mine. Relax, Antoinette, and allow yourself to enjoy it. Why not?”
“I haven’t…”