The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)

Lennox drew back, but kept his hands locked around her waist.

Chloris was glad he anchored her that way, for she felt as if she might swoon. Her body truly had warmed and blossomed after his strange actions, but the state it left her in was no easy burden. “You have made me...”

She inhaled deeply, but that only seemed to increase her agitated state.

He cocked his head to one side, a predatory smile on his lips.

Had he done that on purpose? Frustration and objection swelled in her. “You have put me in a state of...need.”

His hands roved lower, around the curve of her hips. “I warned you, did I not?”

“I did not know it would be like this.” It was the strangest experience, for his proximity alone had stimulated her before the intimate contact. Her breathing was increasingly constricted and she felt dizzy, as if her garments were too tightly laced.

“You have not felt this way before?”

There was no doubt he was being provocative. She pressed her lips together.

“It will pass, try to breathe steadily.” His actions contradicted his soothing words, for he drew her in against him, resting her head against his chest, which only made her situation worse.

It was akin to being embraced, and the hard bulk of his chest beneath his shirt only served to convey the kind of masculine virility that could slake her current needs. What had he done to her with his magic? Surely, if he had put her in this state, he could end it? Touching her forehead with one hand, she looked up and gave him a pleading glance. “Please, can you help me?”

With a nod he bent and lifted her in his arms and took her to the bed. Being held that way—totally enclosed and easily carried in his strong arms—only made her state worsen. Before she had a chance to object, he bent over her and began to loose the ribbons on her bodice, deftly untying them and tugging them open. Astonished, Chloris tried to stop him. “Please, sire, no.”

Arching an eyebrow, he gave her an amused glance. “Hush, you are in danger of fainting, I am only assisting.”

He wore a dark smile, though, a smile that only seemed to confirm his ability to seduce her.

Chloris whimpered. Then his hand brushed the swell of her bosom and, as her bodice was loosed, made fleeting contact with her left breast. “Oh, lord, you are making it worse.”

He leaned right over her and captured her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

Chloris stared up at him, taking in the self-assured look in his eyes. He knew the effect he was having on her, and he was about to kiss her.

Her lips parted.

With a sigh of admiration, he brushed his fingers over the swell of her breasts again and then ducked his head and rested a kiss in her cleavage.

The contact made her melt into the bed. Her emotions soared. Never before had she been touched with such persuasive hands. Torn, she knew she should feel this was wrong, allowing this man so close to her bed. But it didn’t feel wrong, it felt good, and she wanted more. Have I lost my sense of reason?

“You are most desirable. Perhaps I should not confess this, Mistress Chloris, but you have made me crave a taste of you.” Mischief glinted in his eyes, the candlelight picking it up as he turned his head.

She shook her head.

“Why do you fight it?” He breathed against her collarbone as he rested a kiss there. “This is what you wanted, to be a woman who is fecund and rich in possibility.”

His words were so suggestive, so flagrantly outrageous. Yet it made her entire body throb in response.

“You are all of that and more.” Whispering the words close against her ear, he captured the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it gently. “What man could resist?”

“But I...”

“Don’t fight it. This is what you came to me for.”

Was it? She wasn’t sure anymore. He was a wild one, living by his own rules. Why did that intrigue her so?

Brusquely, he undid the remaining ribbons on her bodice, and then tugged her shift down, exposing her nipples where they rose up and breached the top of her corset. Unruly fire built in his eyes as he looked down at her.

He ran his thumb over her peaked nipple. “Take your pleasure from my touch, it will serve to bed down the magic of the ritual.”