Название: Addicted
Автор: Charlotte Featherstone
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Эротика, Секс
isbn: 9781408914243
isbn:
He couldn’t deny her, not with the way she was stroking his shaft through his breeches. He was ready to explode; yet his mind kept resisting. But he wanted to please her. He wanted so damn much to be the sort of man she desired. And he needed release. God, he needed that. To spill himself in her hand and press his face into her sweetly scented throat.
She unfastened his trousers and slipped her hand into the front of them, finding his cock and swirling her finger around the wet tip. “How aroused you are. You’re wet already and leaking your seed.”
His cock stiffened further and he shoved his hips forward encouraging her to stroke him. He was unable to believe that his shy little Anais was being so bold. But it excited him. The more she stroked him, the more aroused and reckless he became. “You’re a little cock tease,” he murmured as she cupped his cods in her palm.
“And do you like how I tease your cock?”
“I should think you know the answer to that, especially after the other night.”
“And am I better than the other night?” she demurred, inflaming him further. “Am I a better cock tease?”
He raised her skirt and stroked her bare backside. A backside that felt much different from the delightful heart-shaped derriere he recalled. But this was Anais. He sensed her as he always did. It was this damn thing that had poisoned his brain, making him think such crazed thoughts.
“What do you want me to do with this?” she asked boldly, cradling his shaft in her hand.
“Suck it,” he groaned, the words spilling out in a long rush of breath as he gave voice to his deepest fantasy. And then almost violently he captured her lips with his and kissed her, needing her in a desperation he had never felt before. “I have to tell you. I can’t wait. I love you,” he said passionately between long, hard, drugging kisses. “I always have. I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want to hide it. It’s only ever been you—it will forever only be you.”
A heartrending gasp shattered the sound of their breaths. He looked up at the woman in his arms and blinked, his vision still swimming before him. And then, the image slowly danced into focus and he felt the contents of his stomach threaten to come up and spill onto the floor. He looked from the woman who was pressed against him to the sound of the frantic breathing he heard coming from beside him. His mind whirled with the impossibility.
Anais stood frozen, shocked, horrified. The implications of what she was witnessing spun with dizzying speed in her head. Her chest began to rise and fall too rapidly and she felt as though she were being choked by the blue ribbon around her throat. With shaking hands she tore the bonnet from her head. How could Lindsay have done this to her? How, after what they had shared with each other in the stable, could he so easily fall into the arms of another?
“Jesus, how long?” She wasn’t certain if Lindsay knew he said the words aloud.
“Long enough to see you with her and hear that you love her,” she whispered, choking back a sob. She looked away, sickened by the sight of him and saw, for the first time, the woman who was pressed against him.
“Why?” she asked in what was little more than a half-strangled whisper. But she could not finish the sentence. She could not look at Rebecca pressed against Lindsay, her breasts glistening from Lindsay’s mouth. She could not stand to see the woman who had been her trusted friend wearing her costume—the only thing she had ever owned that had not been designed or ordered by her mother. The only thing she had ever wanted Lindsay to see her wearing. Oh, God, what a stupid trusting fool she had been to think that Rebecca had picked up her muslin sack by mistake. It had not been by mistake, but by design—a cruel, ugly design.
“It was you I said those words to. I thought she was you, Anais,” he stammered. “Let me explain—”
“I don’t think the words are necessary, darling,” Rebecca purred, reminding Anais of the snake her friend truly was. “I think what Anais saw speaks for itself. We needn’t hide it anymore.”
“Don’t touch me,” Lindsay snapped, shaking off Rebecca’s hold on his arm. “Goddamn you, what have you done?”
“It’s what you have done, Lindsay,” Anais replied. “You have done this.”
“Let me explain,” he muttered, staggering closer. “I was with Wallingford. I was…slipped something…that is, I took something that made me confused. I thought Rebecca was you. I believed, Anais, that it was truly you.”
“How could you think such a thing? We look nothing alike.”
“Nor are we the same size.” Rebecca’s voice dripped with venom.
Lindsay shot Rebecca a murderous glare as he held on to the wall, supporting his wavering frame. “Anais, listen to me. It was a drug. I’m not drunk. I swear it. It was a mistake. I thought it was you. Believed it was you…believe me, Anais.”
“Lies,” Anais whispered brokenly as she fixed her blurry gaze on Lindsay. “Everything you said, everything you told me…it was nothing but lies. What we did, that was a lie, too. You were just amusing yourself with me—God, how you must have laughed at me, falling for your seductions so easily.”
“Don’t say that, Anais.”
“What, that you were bored silly that night so you thought you’d take me—plain, undesirable spinster that I am—out to the stables for a little amusement? You probably thought you were doing me a favor by sleeping with me. You must have really felt sorry for me that night to put up with such an inexperienced wallflower like me—especially when you could have had…” Anais glanced at Rebecca and felt her throat squeeze shut. “When you could have had someone beautiful, someone as desirable as her.”
“I wanted you—I want you,” he corrected with a frown. “You know that. Just remember how it was, Anais.”
“I remember all too well. I remember a woman who is not beautiful, a woman with a round body that is too full in the belly and the hips, a woman who thought she was beautiful enough for someone like you. Obviously I was an evening of sport until you could move on to better and prettier things.” God, to think of the way she had blindly believed him. Never questioning his sincerity, actually believing that he had not proposed after making love to her because he wanted it to be special like he claimed. And she had fallen for it.
“No, this is a mistake. It’s not what it seems,” he began, taking a staggering step toward her while using his hand against the wall for support.
Anais felt her lips twist with disgust. He looked so very much like his father, stumbling toward her, fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers, his curling hair in disarray, his shirttails hanging outside his trousers. She could hardly look at him without wanting to vomit. This was not the Lindsay of her childhood. This was not the man she had lain with two nights ago. This was a stranger—a dissipated wastrel she had never seen before.
“No, please. Don’t look at me like that, Anais. Don’t look at me like you do him. I’m not like him,” he roared, staggering toward her. “Listen to me and let me explain. I don’t want Rebecca. I don’t want anyone but you.”
Anais was suddenly aware of a strong presence beside her. Without looking, she knew that it was Lord Broughton. His arm around her waist was strong СКАЧАТЬ