A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Knowing he would be the first gentleman to taste her proved highly arousing. “Then think of this as your opening night. And you know what actors say.”

“No. What do they say?”

“One’s performance improves with practice.”

Chapter Eight

The sight of Mr Lockhart moistening his lips was enough to rob Claudia of all rational thought. She forgot about the cold nipping her cheeks, forgot that her fingers were numb, forgot she was his second choice and should tell him to go to the devil.

Lord, he was about to kiss her and pay seventeen hundred pounds for the privilege.

Did that not make her the most expensive courtesan to grace the ballroom this evening?

The thought should have made her gather up her skirts and race back to Falaura Glen. But she would rather kiss Mr Lockhart once than have Mr Thorncroft’s lips smother hers night after night.

Mr Lockhart lowered his head and stared at her with a smouldering heat that made him look positively sinful. Nerves pushed to the fore as he came closer, close enough that she breathed in the woody tones of his cologne.

Oh, why was he taking his time?

Why did he not hurry?

Her heart hammered so hard in her chest she had no choice but to take control. Grabbing the lapels of Mr Lockhart’s black waistcoat, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips to his so fiercely it hurt.

The gentleman tore his mouth away. “Good God, woman. You may suffer from stage fright, but there’s no need to assault the cast.”

“Forgive me … I …” Heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh, just kiss me, sir, and have done with it.”

“That is what I am attempting to do.”

“You were lingering for too long.”

“Lingering? It’s called seduction.”

“I think you forget why we—”

Mr Lockhart’s lips came crashing down on hers—wild and wicked—bursting with passion, not panic. His mouth slid over hers with surprising skill, so warm, so wet, so thoroughly commanding. Every nerve in her body sparked to life to bask in the sweet sensation.

With a hunger that stole her breath, he coaxed her lips apart. Her legs almost buckled when he moaned into her mouth and the first touch of his tongue teased her to respond. He continued to stroke, to taste, to explore with a need that went beyond the duties of a fake husband. Every slick movement fed her desire. Every caress tugged deep in her core.

Hudson Lockhart knew how to please a woman.

Hudson Lockhart knew how to take what he wanted.

A pleasurable hum resonated in the back of his throat, the sound like a siren’s song tempting her to move closer to this idyllic shore, to dive into these forbidden waters.

Oh, she’d imagined kissing him many times this last month—but never like this.

Random lines from Coleridge’s poem entered her mind.

Alone … Alone on a wide sea! My soul in agony.

Her soul craved a companion.

Looking for something to ease the yearning inside, she touched her tongue to his. The erotic sensation seemed to draw the strength from her muscles. She sagged against his chest, permitting him to plunder, to take whatever he needed.

Hudson Lockhart wasted no time.

Merciful heaven.