Page 22 of A Raven Reborn

Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, he slowly leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers. She didn’t pull away or hesitate. To his surprise, she leaned into him, pressing their mouths more firmly together. His reluctance dissolved like mist in the afternoon sun, and he threw himself fully into the kiss. He nipped gently at her top lip and then the bottom, before sucking it greedily between his own.

Slowly, he traced her lips with his tongue, and she parted to allow him inside. He entered cautiously, teasing the tip of her tongue with his and coaxing her to follow suit. It didn’t take long before she bravely breached his own mouth, and it was his undoing.

He wrapped his hand around her nape and plunged his tongue deep into her warmth. Their position didn’t allow him to get close enough, so he wrapped his arms around her and spun them around. Dropping into the chair, coat be damned, he pulled her down on his lap. She gasped.

“Do you want me to stop?” he was barely able to get the words out.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Oh thank god!” He immediately claimed her mouth once more. One hand held the back of her head and the other began to wander over her body. Down her back, over the curve of her hip and down the outside of her thigh. He had a destination in mind as he slowly skimmed back up to her waist and over her ribs. When her breast finally filled his palm, it was pure bliss. He squeezed gently and felt a peak grow beneath his hand. He brushed it with his thumb, and Rosie whimpered quietly into his mouth. He brushed more firmly and this time she pulled back for a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes were wide, but not with fear. It was unquestionably astonishment and longing.

Patrick untied the sash at her waist and pushed the cotton robe off her shoulders. He gave silent thanks to Ella for providing her with a much less modest gown to wear beneath. It was white silk with a deep-cut neckline, which he took full and immediate advantage of. He plunged his hand inside, seeking out the breast he’d been neglecting. Her nipple was already hard and waiting for him. Slowly, he brushed it with each of his fingertips in turn. Her body gave a small twitch with each one. When he reached his little finger, he made a quick pass back the other direction and then took the treasure between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it gently.

“Patrick,” she moaned breathlessly. She squirmed in her need for more, unconsciously rubbing herself against his leg. He grabbed her hips with both hands and pulled her firmly against him. The barrier of their clothing was no match for her heat as it radiated through silk and wool. He shamelessly rocked himself against her thigh. She groaned as he kissed her again, but he needed to taste more of her. His tongue followed the line of her jaw to her earlobe. Rosie shivered as he nibbled it softly. His kisses moved down her neck, his tongue delving into the hollow at the base of her throat.

What he truly wanted to taste was still hidden beneath silk. Hooking his thumbs beneath the thin straps, he pushed them over her shoulders and lowered them slowly down her arms. When she was bare to the waist, he looked into her eyes to make sure they weren’t telling him to stop. Thankfully, the hunger that burned there matched his own. Patrick leaned back to fully appreciate her beauty. Of course, he’d seen her naked body before, but it was different now. A gracefully slender neck and soft ivory shoulders were only an appetizer. Her lush breasts, like berries and cream with their strawberry nipples that jutted toward him, begged to be devoured. He placed his mouth gently over one and suckled. With an appreciative groan, she opened her legs wider and pushed herself more firmly against him.

Grasping her hips, once more, he encouraged her to rock.

Releasing her from his mouth, he laved the tight bud with his tongue, and she bucked against him. Mewling noises summoned him back to her lips, his fingers moving to caress the breast he’d been ignoring. Their tongues wrestled, and as he squeezed her nipple firmly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, she rocked faster, grinding herself against him. He lifted and lowered his leg in tandem with her.

He greedily sucked her tongue, lips, anything he could, both of them gasping for breath. Her entire body began to tremble, and he pulled back to admire her again. Her plump breasts shook tantalizingly, barely an inch from his lips. Unable to resist, he teased each nipple once with the tip of his tongue. She plunged her fingers into his hair, gripping it painfully tight and pulling his head back.

“Patrick!” She rode his thigh like it was a stallion, her own leg nearly his undoing as it rubbed vigorously against him.

“God, you’re beautiful, Rosie.” Pinned in place by his hair and unable to get his tongue to her breast, he licked his fingertip and brushed it across her nipples. It was the final push she needed. She cried out as she cascaded over the cliff, her eyes wide with wonder.

Patrick barely managed to avoid embarrassing himself and finishing in his trousers. He lifted her to rest on the edge of the desk and hurriedly unbuttoned his trousers. Bending down, he grabbed the hem of her nightgown and began pulling it up. He needed to be inside her like he needed to draw breath.

“Wait.” He heard the word, but it didn’t fully register. “Wait.” It came again. “Stop.” Rosie pushed against his shoulder, the pain finally breaking through his desire. He looked up into her eyes, expecting to see blissful satisfaction, but was instead met with raw panic. Panting in terror, she pushed against him and thrashed like a wounded animal.

Not knowing what to do, he held his hands away from her and stepped back. As soon as both of her feet were on the floor, she sprinted from the room without looking back.

What the devil had just happened?

* * *

Rosalyn closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Every inch of her trembled as she slid down its surface to sit on the floor. Of course, her body weight wouldn’t stop him coming through the door if he wanted to, but what else was she supposed to do? Surely, he would follow her. She had definitely enticed him into whatever was about to happen. Rosalyn’s stomach clenched with fear as she waited, listening for approaching footsteps.

But they never came.

Why didn’t he storm down the hall, force the door open, and take what he so clearly wanted?

And why was a tiny sliver of her disappointed that he hadn’t?

Something was undeniably wrong with her. She’d asked for a kiss, but he’d given her so much more, and she’d enjoyed every second of it. Her stepfather had probably been right. Deep down she must be a whore with unnatural and indecent desires. Even now, her stomach fluttered at the remembrance of the incredible pleasure he’d given her. Surely, that wasn’t normal. She’d ridden his leg like some sort of deranged jezebel, unabashedly calling out his name for anyone to hear.

Oh god, Finch. The door to Patrick’s study had been wide open. It wasn’t possible that he hadn’t heard.

Rosalyn dropped her face into her palms, wishing she could simply disappear. How could she possibly look Finch in the eye ever again? And Patrick. She undoubtedly owed him an apology, but whether for playing the strumpet or for stopping him from taking what he desired and running away like a madwoman, she couldn’t say for certain.

After all he had done for her, getting what he wanted from her body was the least he deserved in return. She let out a long sigh. How long would he be patient with her before he either took what he wanted or threw her out? She hadn’t intended to run away, but when he’d reached for the hem of her nightgown, she was suddenly trapped under Percival’s foul smelling, porcine-like body once again.

A tear ran down her cheek as she recalled the pain and humiliation. She’d learned very quickly that fighting him only made it hurt more. It certainly didn’t stop him from accomplishing his goal. By the third time he’d stumbled into her room during the night, she started trying to imagine herself somewhere else and just allowed him to take what he wanted. Why couldn’t she at least have done that with Patrick?

Rosalyn shivered. Her nightgown was still slouched around her waist. Running mostly nude through his house could also be added to the list of utterly embarrassing behaviors she’d exhibited in the span of about a half hour tonight. She pulled the thin straps, none too gently, over her shoulders. Goosebumps rose on her skin.

She eyed the bed. Its cozy comfort called to her, but guilt wouldn’t allow her to slide into its warmth. She didn’t deserve any more kindness from Patrick. She should march back down the hall and tell him as much, tell him to take her body just as he’d wanted to.

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