Shameless (The House of Rohan 4) - Page 61

And the longer he stared down at her, the harder he became.

He dumped the clothes on top of her, and she awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented. She sat up, realized she was naked and quickly pulled her discarded clothes against her body, covering herself. Her eyes narrowed as she saw him, and a rich color rose to her cheeks, suffusing them, and he could see her mouth, soft, tremulous, uncertain.

“I would suggest you dress and return home before it’s full light,” he said, his voice clipped and distant.

“Why?”

Damn the woman! Didn’t she know a dismissal when she heard one? He needed her dressed and out of there, before he changed his mind and threw away everything he’d planned so carefully.

“I wouldn’t want the gaggle to jump to any conclusions. ”

“What kind of conclusions might they jump to?”

He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and hold her still while he kissed her. “That this was anything more than a momentary lapse on your part and a mistake on mine. I’ve done my duty, aided in your education, and now you’re free to apply that knowledge in a more suitable direction. ”

She was very still. No expression crossed her face, but then, she was good at hiding her reactions. He wondered if that was pain in her dark blue eyes. If so, that was a good thing. It would make the lesson stick.

“Indeed,” she said finally. “Have you already taught me everything you know?”

It was a worthy comeback, and he fought his admiration. “All that you’re capable of assimilating. I believe I made myself clear. If there was a chance in hell I’d ever find myself harboring any kind of feelings for you I wouldn’t have succumbed to the very ripe temptation you offered. Awkwardness and enthusiasm is an interesting change now and then, and I won’t deny I enjoyed myself, but in general I prefer a more sophisticated pleasure. Go find some earnest young man who’ll share your charitable activities and leave me alone. ”

She blinked. Such a small reaction to his deliberately brutal words, and he wanted more. He wanted to lash out at her, to cause her the same consternation that she’d caused him. But she simply looked at him for a long moment, and he had the odd feeling that she was taking his cruel words and translating them in her brain, as if from a foreign language.

“I see,” she said after a moment. “Perhaps you would be so good as to summon your carriage to drive me home? Or would you prefer I take a hackney?”

He refused to flush. “My carriage will be at your disposal, madam. ”

“And would you also allow me to dress in private? I find I have no interest in displaying my body in front of you. ”

“Trust me, it would have no effect on me,” he said, ignoring his damned erection. In truth, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue with this if he saw her naked once more. The curve of her pale breasts; the soft, perfumed skin; the tawny curls between her legs…the very thought made him break out in a cold sweat.

“And what about the Heavenly Host?”

He had already turned toward the door. “You may trust me to take care of the situation. ”

“But I don’t,” she said softly. “I don’t trust you. ”

He remembered her words from the night before. She’d told him she’d chosen him because she trusted him. He’d managed to do an effective job of smashing that trust. “Very wise. But I give you my word—there will be no murders on the night of the full moon. ”

She didn’t respond. She merely looked at him, seemingly calm and unmoved, and yet he remembered her body clenching his, remembered the shuddering climax that had shaken them both. He could see the mark his mouth had made at the top of one breast, and knew there would be others on her sensitive skin. He remembered when she had sunk her teeth into his shoulder rather than cry out, and the spur that tiny bit of pain had forced.

“Goodbye, my lord. ”

Even then he wanted to change his mind. Wanted to cross the room in two swift strides, pull her back into his arms and kiss her senseless. Wanted to bury his aching cock in her sweet, welcoming body, drinking in the richness of her response.

He gave her a nod, and left the room, before he made an even bigger disaster of his life than he already had.

She pushed the covers back, looking down at her body. She was damp and sticky between her legs—the last time he’d been too tired to do anything more than collapse on top of her, and they’d slept. Or so she thought. He’d washed her the other times, gently ministering to her, and she’d let him. Foolish, foolish woman.

Th

e room was cold, the fire out, and she looked down to see her nipples puckered against the icy air. There was a red mark on her breast, another on her thigh, and she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering.

She was made of sterner stuff than that, she reminded herself, opening them again. This was all working out for the best. She’d chosen Benedick Rohan for one reason and one reason alone. He was purportedly a brilliant lover. If the previous night was any judge of his skills, he’d been sadly underestimated. He was astonishing. So good that even with his cruel words echoing in her ears she’d still lie down for him if he wanted her.

So now she knew. The pleasures of the flesh were, in fact, desirable, and how much more delightful they’d be with someone she loved. She could now search out a good, decent man to marry and, perhaps with a miracle, bear children. She wanted to be a mother. She now had enough information to ensure that the next man she fell in love with would be able to bring her pleasure, as well. She needed to get home swiftly, to make notes as to what had been most pleasurable so she wouldn’t forget, and then she would instruct her future husband….

There was a strange, choking noise in the room, and she looked around her, appalled, then realized the sound came from her own throat. She swallowed, convulsively, shoving the pain back. She was being ridiculous.

Tags: Anne Stuart The House of Rohan Erotic
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