Responding in the way she hoped, he let her inside his warm, wet mouth, let her taste him as she wanted to. The wild dance of their tongues was accompanied by the sound of their ragged breathing. The sudden urgency to sate a physical need Daphne had denied for so long pushed to the fore. Before her mind could catch up with her movements, she was straddling Thorpe’s lap. Releasing Daphne’s wrist, his other hand crept under her skirt to caress her thigh.
“God damn, Daphne,” he whispered trailing kisses down the column of her throat. “Are you determined to drive me insane? Is this to be my punishment for challenging you? Am I to sample something heavenly only to have it ripped from my grasp?”
Thorpe was a man of sound mind. He spoke with care and clarity. These unrestrained ramblings were so unlike him.
“When presented with a problem,” Daphne began, though the liquid fire pooling between her legs made it almost impossible to focus, “a lady must find a way to gain the upper hand.”
Thorpe pulled away abruptly, snatched his hand back from under her dress as though he’d touched a nest of spiders.
“Then my first instinct was correct,” he said with a hint of malice that belied the look of longing swimming in his eyes. “This is a game to you. In your bid to teach me a lesson, you would drag me through the hot fires of hell.”
Daphne slid off his lap and tumbled into the seat opposite. “My initial intention was to do just that,” she said batting the creases from her dress. Her cheeks burned, but she did her best to hold his gaze. “But it has been a long time since I’ve felt close to anyone. I think it’s fair to say we both got a little carried away.”
He glanced down at his boots. “Such a misunderstanding will only hinder our working relationship.”
A misunderstanding? What did he mean?
So she’d kissed him. Like a wild wanton, she’d sat astride those muscular thighs straining against the confines of his breeches. One did not need an education in human emotions to know they had enjoyed the experience.
“There is no misunderstanding.” A working woman did not need to skirt around the truth. “Once our lips met, and you finally responded, it was our mutual desire that took over.” Had her words not dampened his ardour, heaven knows where their passionate encounter would have ended.
The carriage rumbled to a halt in Church Street, prompting a change in conversation.
Thorpe shuffled forward. “Give me a few minutes to find a clean coat, and I’ll be back. Wait here.”
He opened the door, jumped to the pavement and inhaled like a man starved of air.
Daphne peered out. “Where are we to go next?”
Thorpe turned, reached into the carriage and snatched his hat from the seat. “I am going to visit Lord Tranmere. And you, Mrs Chambers, are going home.”
Chapter 7
“I am a mature woman not a child in need of coddling.” Daphne followed him into the house in Church Street, her constant complaining a means to rouse a reaction.
Daniel mounted the stairs two at a time to place some distance between them but she raced up behind him, the thud of her boots on the wooden stairs evidence of her frustration.
“Surely your client’s wishes take precedence over your own,” she persisted. “What if I don’t want to go home?”
Daniel swung around and grabbed the bannister at the top of the stairs for fear of throttling the woman to her senses. “What part of your supposedly logical brain fails to appreciate the severity of what has just occurred?”
She climbed the last step and came to stand before him. “Forgive me, but I fail to see why a man of your experience places so much weight on the event. Frankly, you’re overreacting.”
Daniel stared at her, baffled by her nonchalant manner. “Do you take pleasure in causing me distress?”
“Distress? Come now, is that not an exaggeration?” A coy smile touched her lips. “I’m not a woman of vast experience, but I know it can be difficult for a gentleman when passions are roused to such a degree. It can cause an emotional imbalance that men struggle to deal with. After all, it was over so quickly. You’re bound to feel a lingering need for satisfaction.”
“Satisfaction? Rest assured, Mrs Chambers, when I catch the blasted driver of that cart, I’ll string him up outside Newgate and leave him as food for the crows.” Daniel’s hands throbbed at the thought of wringing the rogue’s neck.
She drew her head back sharply and blinked numerous times as if still trying to bat rain from her lashes. “Oh, you’re talking about the incident in Covent Garden. That’s why you want me to go home.”
“What else would I be talking about?”
A pink blush touched her cheeks. “I thought you were referring to our … to the incident in the carriage. You appeared most unsettled by it.”
Unsettled was far too tame a word. Lonely nights spent imagining that exact scenario had failed to prepare him. God, the woman had no idea how she affected him, how much he’d wanted to unbutton his breeches and thrust home, to hear her pretty pants and sighs as he pleasured her until she called out his name.
“Lust can lead to frustration and can occasionally be distressing, but our kiss has nothing to do with my need to take you home.” The comment held a grain of truth. Daphne’s safety was paramount. But he’d spent years learning to suppress his desire for her. Now, having tasted the forbidden fruit, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it at bay.