Lords Of Desire Part 28

Oh, mercy. Now James was changed, too. A different creature than when he'd first returned from work. Instead of joviality, his green eyes glinted something dangerous. His jaw was harder, etched from a material more ruthless than flesh.

The new mood in the room reminded her of the countryside in the fall, when buck deer would suddenly transform from gentle, pretty animals to fierce creatures bunched with muscle. The males wanted something, and they seemed mad with that want. But the doe responded, just as Sarah was responding to her husband's possessive gaze.

It was frightening to be wanted so. Frightening and stunningly exciting.

When he stepped toward her, Sarah tensed with the impulse to flee. She was too new to this to respond any other way, regardless of her intentions. But a shadow fell into the room, and Crawford bowed from the doorway. "Sir, madam, if it pleases you, dinner will be served when you are seated."

James stared at her a moment longer, but when he blinked, the spell was broken. "Madam," he said, offering a little bow before he held out his arm.

The imagined danger had pa.s.sed and, with a sigh of mild relief, Sarah went to him and took his arm. The simple touch made her burn.

My wife thinks of more than kissing.

James clutched his gla.s.s of port and stared daggers at the library clock.

My wife, he repeated to himself, thinks of more.

When this change had started, he had no idea. Had there been new signs of pa.s.sion he'd missed? Was it only that she'd begun to trust him? Perhaps it simply took time for a restrained gentlewoman like Sarah to become accustomed to a man's touch. Whatever the reason, he could think of nothing else now.

The second hand of the clock had become weighted down, too heavy to keep the right time, he was sure of it. According to that blasted clock, Sarah had excused herself only five minutes before to prepare for bed.

Dinner had been enjoyable, despite the fact that James had been in a painful state for most of it. And at the end, Sarah had stood, hands still clutching her serviette, and announced that she was quite worn out. "I must call Mary to help me ready for bed. Please enjoy your port." She'd practically run from the room, and left James standing there alone, still caught up in the lovely memory of the pale rise of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s above the neckline of her gown.

He knew she wasn't readying for sleep; sunset was barely upon them. No, she was readying for him.

Six minutes. Was six minutes enough? It would have to be.

James set his drink down with a purposeful clink and headed for the stairs.

When he reached his dressing room, he paused to listen. Not a sound from their bedchamber. Was she lying in bed, waiting for him? Thinking about more? James tugged off his tie, slipped out of his jacket, and turned the door handle.

"Oh!" a female voice gasped. His wife or her maid. He couldn't be sure. They'd both turned to gape at him. The maid's hands had frozen over the ties of Sarah's corset. Her dress was gone, her bustle and petticoats as well.

"I..." James tried to think what to say, but his mind was occupied with sending up a prayer of thanks that he hadn't strolled through the door in the buff. "I apologize," he finally managed. "I see I did not give you enough time."

Sarah shook her head. "No, it is just that Mary wasn't expecting me so early and-"

"I'm sorry, sir," Mary murmured, bobbing a curtsy. "Ma'am." She hovered for a moment, clearly uncertain if she should continue with her task.

James cleared his throat. "Shall I...?"

His wife looked from him to the maid and back again. "I'm sure we can...Um, Mary, if you could only unknot the strings?"

Mary's fingers sprang to action and worked at the laces as if her life depended upon it. A few moments later, the knot gave way to her determination. Before the ties fluttered to rest against Sarah's back, the maid had dropped her curtsy and spun toward the opposite dressing room door. The door closed, and they were alone.

The skin of her shoulders gleamed in the lamplight. Her cheeks were soft pink when she started to turn toward him, but then she paused and turned her back again, and James watched the blush creep toward the nape of her neck. The combination of her modesty and her bare skin twined together and dug deep into his body. She was so innocent, and still she wanted him.

Trying to tamp down the need that already throbbed through him, James slowly crossed the room. He paused a foot from her, taking in the sight of her cinched waist and gauzy chemise. He'd never seen her thus: fully covered, but completely indecent. When he reached for her stays, his hands trembled.

Her gasp echoed through the room when he snuck his fingers beneath the crossed strings and tugged. A few more pulls, and her ribs expanded as she inhaled a deep breath. Something about the breath rus.h.i.+ng past her lips made him even harder.

She pressed both hands to her waist to unlatch the front hooks, and the corset fell to the floor to land at her feet. They stared at it together, but when James noticed the way she rolled her shoulders, he put a hand to her back to rub the tension away.

Reveling in the surprising heat of the slightly damp linen, James pressed his thumb along the edge of her spine.

"Ah," she sighed.

"It must be a relief to take that thing off."

"Yes."

He put his other hand to work on the left side of her spine.

"Oh, James. That feels so good." Her head bowed, stretching her neck out for his view, only inches away. Tempted, he lifted the heavy fall of her hair and pushed it over one shoulder. Now her spine was exposed from the middle of her back to her hairline. His thumbs crept up to bare skin and elicited a soft whimper with each circle he pressed to her muscles. The sounds vibrated through the pads of his fingers and chased along his nerves until his c.o.c.k throbbed.

As soon as he reached her shoulders, he stepped closer and put his mouth to the side of her neck, finally tasting her. This new, wanton Sarah let her head fall to the side so that he could nibble to his heart's content. Even more surprising, she pressed her backside to his erection.

"Will you...?" She took a breath and tried again. "Will you douse the lamps?"

James didn't bother answering; he simply let go of her shoulders and moved toward the closest lamp. But it made no difference. The faint light of the lowering sun still exposed her to his view. He did not volunteer to close the thicker drapes. Instead, he began unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt.

Eyes wide, she watched, gaze lowering as each b.u.t.ton slid free. When he shrugged the s.h.i.+rt off entirely, her eyes closed.

"Does my body disturb you?" He tried to ignore the sharp hurt that caused.

"Of course not." Her eyelids rose, her gaze darted frantically over his chest, then to the floor, back to his body and then his eyes. "I should not like to stare."

Honest relief made him smile. "You wouldn't like to or you are trying to be all that is proper?"

Her attempt to answer his smile did not quite succeed, so he only took her hand and led her across the room to their bed. "Close your eyes, Sarah," he murmured.

Facing him, she stood still and closed her eyes, not offering a protest when he reached for the hem of her chemise and slowly dragged it up. First her drawers were revealed, stark white against her ivory skin. Then her belly, soft and smooth.

James averted his eyes when he pulled the chemise over her head. He wanted to see all of her, needed that, so before taking her in, he reached for the tie of her drawers and freed her from every st.i.tch of fabric.

Then...By G.o.d. The moonlight views he'd stolen of his wife were nothing to this. Her rose-tipped b.r.e.a.s.t.s a bit too small to fill his hand. Her waist where it nipped in just before flaring out to succulent hips. Her s.e.x, the dark curls of her mound. James held back a hum of approval.

Though her hands fisted at her sides, Sarah did not cover herself. She only stood, eyes closed, and let him look.

James went to his knees. His fingers felt too thick as he fumbled at the clasps of her stockings. All his coordination had been stolen by the shock of the view. He could see past her curls from this vantage to the beckoning pink beneath. He could smell her heat, the musky scent of feminine arousal. His mouth watering, he thought of kissing her there. Would she cringe in horror? Would she sob in pleasure?

The idea of shocking her proved impossibly tempting. He wanted her shocked. Scandalized. By him.

He pushed the stockings down, one at a time, then smoothed his palms back up her bare legs, slowly, slowly. When he reached her outer thighs, he pushed farther around, so that his hands slipped up to the perfect roundness of her b.u.t.tocks. Sarah gasped, and her hips jumped forward just a bit, offering a more generous peek of glistening pink.

His mouth watered for a taste. Just a taste. How could she know if he didn't show her?

James spread his fingers out, taking a firmer grip on her round bottom. Then he pressed one chaste kiss to the triangle of dark curls that tempted him.

"Oh!" she gasped. But she did not pull away.

He kissed again, lower, and let the tip of his tongue delve in to graze her plump flesh.

"James, don't!"

Cursing himself for a beast, he ignored her and slid his tongue lower, feeling her lips part just the tiniest bit at his thrust. He'd finally found the taste of her, pleasure on his tongue.

"You can't..." she protested, finally touching him. Her hand curled into his hair and pulled. "Please don't."

James looked up her body, past the curve of her belly and the jut of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Open your eyes," he urged. Sarah shook her head. "Open your eyes," he said more firmly, telling himself he'd stop now if she didn't. He'd stop and apologize and tuck her beneath the sheets. But Sarah opened her eyes.

Willing her to yield, James darted his tongue against her slit. When he looked back to her, her whole face had tightened. He held her with his eyes and s.h.i.+fted his hands lower to tug her legs apart. She slid her feet only a few inches, but it was enough. This time his tongue parted her lips and he was sliding over that pearl of hard tissue.

Her hand clenched in his hair and she gasped. He knew it felt good to her, because he could taste her pleasure. He licked again, flicked his tongue over her bud, and when her thighs began to shake, he eased her to the bed. Yes, now she was spread before him, deep and pink and wet, and James could hardly think.

He'd done this before, only a few times. But this was his wife, letting him suck at her, letting him push his tongue into her center, and he almost could not bear it.

"James?" she gasped. "James, is this all right? Can we...?"

"Yes," he groaned. When she thought of more, he wanted her picturing this. He would never stop thinking of it, surely. Never.

James dragged his tongue down as far as he could, then back up to circle her c.l.i.toris.

"Oh, it feels so...I don't think I should..."

Some wretched animal inside him swelled with dominance. No, she shouldn't. He shouldn't. But he would, because he wanted this with her. His sweet, innocent wife. He wanted to create a world where she was something else in private. His secret lover.

So James closed his lips around her tight bud and sucked gently.

"James! Oh, G.o.d, oh, no! Please. Please."

Yes, please, he thought, as her soft thighs tightened, squeezing him, shaking. Her hips jerked, she screamed, and his mouth was full of the taste of Sarah.

Listening to her ragged panting, James sat back on his heels and wiped his lips. He could spend his seed right now with only the barest touch of his own hand, he was sure of it. Best to take a few deep breaths himself.

Sarah's knees closed with a slap as she sat straight up. "What did you do?" she demanded. Her nipples were even pinker now, tipped with deep, hard rose.

"I kissed you."

"Yes, but...Do men...? Is that something that people do?"

"Yes."

She stared him down for a long moment. "Are you quite sure?"

"I'm certain. But if you ask me not to, I'll never do it again."

"Oh." Her eyelids fluttered, and he thought she was looking down to the place he'd just tongued. "I can't imagine that it brought you any pleasure. Surely-"

"On the contrary. I'm sure I've never enjoyed anything more. Did you like it, Sarah?"

She swallowed hard.

"It's all right to say yes." He added, "Or no," though his throat tried to cut off the words.

"Yes," she finally whispered, and the animal raged back to life in his chest, greedy with l.u.s.t.

"You liked it?"

"Yes."

"And...tomorrow, Sarah? Tomorrow, would you like it again?"

"Oh. I...y-yes." Her eyes filled with tears, shaming him.

An ache in his chest briefly overcame the one in his groin. "Ah, love. I'm sorry. Men are beasts when they're overcome with l.u.s.t, and I seem to be no exception." Chastened, he rose to his feet and lifted her from the bed to turn back the sheets. "Here."

Though he grieved the loss, he covered her naked body in crisp white, then sat on the edge of the bed and let his head fall to his hands.

By G.o.d, he might have ruined everything. All her awakening desire and tentative curiosity. What kind of man couldn't control himself with his own wife? What kind of husband would hope to make her feel dirty?

When Sarah's hand brushed his back with a b.u.t.terfly touch, he cringed.

"James," she breathed. "Are you overcome with l.u.s.t?"

"I was, but I can control it. You needn't worry." Perhaps he should excuse himself to the dressing room and take care of the problem in private.

Her voice interrupted his brooding. "For me?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"You were overcome with l.u.s.t for me?"

He froze. Her warm hand settled flat against his spine. "Of course for you, Sarah."

"I..." Her fingers curled into his back. "I like that, too." His heart stopped as her hand stroked down to tease along the waistband of his trousers. "I'm sorry I'm so nervous. I do not mean to be."

He turned to face her, clasping her hand in his. "No, I'm to blame. There's no need to rush. We have a lifetime together. Thousands of nights."

She looked startled for a moment, then her mouth bloomed into a wide smile. "Thousands? My word."

"Too melodramatic?"

"No, but you remind me that perhaps..." Blus.h.i.+ng, she hesitated until James arched an eyebrow. "Um, perhaps I should see exactly what it is I've committed myself to."

He frowned in confusion. "But we have already done that. Many times."

She turned from pink to red in a fascinating suffusion of color. "Yes, but..." Clutching the sheet to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she leaned close. "I have never seen your instrument."