The Regency Season: Forbidden Pleasures. Julia Justiss

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СКАЧАТЬ gently again, trying to stave off and intensify his climax.

      It seemed she had done well, for some moments later he cried out, his nails biting into her shoulders through the fabric of her gown as he reached his peak, shuddering.

      Not until he sagged back on to the bed did she gently disengage. Noting that he seemed for the moment insensate, she walked over to the washbasin to refresh herself, planning how she would next attempt to satisfy him.

      Undress him, stimulate him, straddle him, she thought, ticking off in her mind the techniques that might leave him most sated. She damped down the shivers of feeling sparking at her breasts and between her thighs as she envisaged pleasuring him.

      Pleasuring him, she rebuked her stirring senses. This had nothing to do with her.

      Hands at her shoulders startled her. ‘Come back to bed,’ he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

      Obediently she turned and allowed him to guide her over. ‘Let me undress you first,’ she urged.

      ‘Only if I can then return the favour.’

      Get him naked and she might avoid that. Murmuring a non-committal response, she turned to seat him at the bedside.

      Swiftly, she removed his jacket and waistcoat, then pulled the shirt over his head. And caught her breath, as any woman would, for he was so beautifully made.

      Strong arms and shoulders gleamed in the candlelight. The muscles of his chest tensed as she ran a finger over them, down the taut belly to the edge of his trousers, then back up and over the scar that circled one shoulder.

      ‘Sabre slash,’ he answered her unspoken question. ‘Doesn’t hurt any more.’

      ‘Where?’ she asked, curious in spite of herself.

      ‘Badajoz.’

      She’d read accounts in the newspapers about the battle. Not yet retired from Society, she’d also heard he’d entered the fortress city first, leading the van of the ‘forlorn hope’ through the breach the engineers had blasted into the walls. Her heart, not yet armoured against him, had swelled with fear at his recklessness, with joy that he’d been spared.

      Denying the heat building within her, she ran her tongue along the scarred ridge of flesh, feeling him gasp and flinch under her touch. Encouraged by his response, she kissed lower while her hands caressed the lines of muscle and sinew.

      Concentrate on him, she urged herself as her fingers tingled and the tension within her coiled tighter.

      She suspended her kisses to strip off his boots, socks and trousers, then urged him down on the bed, pressing him back against the pillows. But when she lifted her skirts to follow him, intending to straddle the erection that sprang up boldly before her, he stopped her.

      ‘My turn.’

      She made a murmur of inarticulate protest, but, ignoring it, he stood and turned her so he might access the fastenings of her gown. Not wanting to provoke a dispute by refusing, she allowed him to proceed.

      She’d just have to resist as best she could—and resist she would, she promised herself.

      Stiffening, she suffered him to unfasten her bodice and skirt, tightening her jaw as he began to caress her breasts through the linen of her chemise. He cupped them in his big hands, dragged his thumbs over the nipples until they peaked, each swipe sparking a flash of sensation that shot right to her core.

      Her control already unravelling, she jumped when he hooked a finger at the hem of the chemise and dragged it up, letting cool air flow over the hot, damp place between her legs. Gently he pushed her to the bed, kissing her with insistent, drugging kisses that stole her breath.

      Her pulse grew unsteadier still as she struggled to resist the tide of sensation hammering at her. She bit down on her lip to keep herself from rubbing against him when his finger insinuated itself between her thighs, bit down even harder when he slid that finger up to caress the nub at her centre. Her arms ached from holding herself rigid.

      Then he slipped that finger inside her, evoking a sensation so intense, she had to hold her breath until she almost lost consciousness to battle down a response.

      He bent to kiss her again, suckling her tongue in rhythm to the stroking finger. Everything within her seemed to be melting, building towards some precipice she was desperate to reach.

      If she couldn’t stop him before she got there, she’d come apart.

      Frantic, she broke the kiss, rolled on to the bed and pulled at his hips, urging him over her. ‘Now!’ she gasped.

      Mercifully, he must have thought she was ready to finish. At once, he plunged within, filling her, which was better—or maybe worse. Rocking urgently against him—this time, she simply couldn’t remain motionless—she sought to bring him to fulfilment, before the sensations he was unleashing drove her mad.

      In deep, penetrating thrusts he drove to the core of her, possessing her through every inch of her body. So the two become one flesh, flashed through her disjointed mind.

      Never. Never one. Not now. Chance. Once. Lost.

      Thoughts disintegrating to chaotic bits, she despaired of holding out any longer, when, buried deep within her, Alastair went rigid and cried out. A few moments later, he collapsed on her, then rolled with her to his side.

      Heart hammering a crazy rhythm in her chest, she tried to steady her breathing. Please, let him fall asleep now, as he had the night before. Any illusions of courage abandoned, she would steal out as soon as his relaxed body and steady breathing told her he was beyond consciousness.

      She couldn’t withstand a repetition of that assault on her senses.

      With him limp beside her, she wriggled free of his entrapping arm. Silently, she threw on her skirt and fixed the pins of her bodice as best she could—thank heavens for the all-concealing cloak! She was groping for her shoes, ready to tiptoe out, when a hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

      She jumped, startled by his touch. Desperate to escape, she attempted a smile. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m afraid I must...must get home. Right now. My son. I’ll...I’ll meet you again. T-tomorrow?’

      Sweet heavens, she was stuttering, her control a shambles. She had to get away.

      ‘He denied you passion, too, didn’t he?’

      Unable, unwilling to answer, she stared at him, her eyes begging him for the mercy of release.

      ‘Why won’t you let me give you pleasure?’

      ‘Why would you want to?’ she shot back, anguish loosening the hold over her tongue.

      His lazy eyes widened. ‘You can’t believe I’d try to hurt you?’

      ‘You have no reason to be kind. Please, Alastair, I’ll come tomorrow, I promise, but no more tonight.’

      She was trembling now, light-headed with sensations denied, torn between her body’s eagerness for what he offered and her need to resist. If she didn’t get out soon, the battle might rip her in two, СКАЧАТЬ