Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)
“Now, that is a perfect means to beginning a day, ma souris,” he murmured, his hand lifting to lazily play with an auburn curl that lay against her cheek. “Of course, I should have preferred to be snugly tucked between your thighs. Next time, I will be deep inside you when I find my release.”
Lightning streaked through her body at his casual words, the image of Edmond poised above her as he tutored her in the pleasures of passion all too vivid.
“There will be no next time.”
He gave her curl a sharp tug. “Then you intend to leave?”
Something that might have been pain briefly clenched her heart. Ridiculous, of course. The man had no doubt enjoyed the delights of hundreds of women, far more fully than with her. Why would a few meaningless moments alter his desire to be rid of her?
“You’ve…had your pleasure, surely that has earned me a few days?” she retorted, sharply.
Without warning, Brianna discovered herself flat on her back with Edmond’s heavy body pinning her to the mattress. She swallowed a groan as he grasped her hands and tugged them over her head, his mouth skimming down the length of her neck in a path of searing fire.
“So long as you are near, I will want you. And if you do not flee, I will be your lover,” he muttered, exploring the line of her gaping neckline. “Mon dieu. Perhaps it is already too late for flight.”
“Edmond…” The words became choked in her throat as his mouth found the tip of her breast through her chemise. “Oh.”
Brianna closed her eyes as her entire body jerked in response. Was this heaven? She had
never dreamed such exquisite sensations existed. It was enough to steal the wits of even the most intelligent woman.
His tongue circled her sensitive nipple, drawing low moans from deep in her throat. At the same time, his leg was pressing between hers to part them wide enough for him to settle his hips between her thighs.
Brianna gasped as her chemise was bunched around her hips and the feel of his hair-roughened legs brushed against her. Then, he settled even deeper and the hard thrust of his arousal pressed at the sensitive flesh between her legs.
Oh, this was…wicked. And wondrous. And so amazingly dangerous.
Edmond sucked in a sharp breath, as if he were as shocked by the violent jolt of pleasure as she.
“Damn you,” he breathed, his eyes a stormy blue that spoke of his tumultuous emotions.
Uncertain why he was angered, Brianna parted her lips to demand an explanation only to have the words halted as a sharp rap on the door made them both freeze in shock.
“Sir,” a muffled voice echoed through the door.
“Go away, Boris,” Edmond snarled, his fierce gaze never wavering from her wide eyes.
“We have an intruder,” the servant retorted.
“Get rid of them,” Edmond commanded, his tone promising severe retribution for the interruption.
“It is Miss Quinn’s stepfather,” Boris insisted. “He has threatened to call for the constable if he is not allowed to see his daughter.”
“Dear lord,” Brianna breathed, stark fear clenching her heart. “How has he found me so swiftly? How has he found me at all?”
Muttering what she assumed were foul Russian curses, Edmond lifted himself from the bed and roughly tied the belt of his robe.
“Get dressed.”
“No. I will not go back to him.” Scrambling off the bed, Brianna pressed herself against the wall, shaking her head in horror. “I will throw myself out the window, I swear it.”
“It is too early for such theatrics, ma souris,” he drawled, all hint of passion replaced with a shimmering fury. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”
“Do you intend to hand me over to him?”
“Either that or I will toss you out the window myself.” His gaze ran a grudging path down her slender body barely hidden by the thin chemise. “You are a complication I do not want and do not need.”
“If you do this, all of London will know that you are not Stefan,” she warned. “You seem to forget that I have a note revealing your true identity written and prepared to be sent to the Times.”