Page 25 of Taming Ivy
“I- I’ve done you a disservice. My intentions are not honorable.” Somehow, she forced her gaze up to his.
“And mine are?” His smile was devastating.
“You’re teasing me again,” she whispered in anguish.
With one smooth movement, he was at her side. His hands, encased in the finest kid leather black gloves, clutched her arms through the velvet cloak. Rotating her toward him, he began stroking the material as if it were her flesh.
Ivy melted at the hypnotic rhythm. Heat spread through her veins with the molten smoothness of honeyed whiskey. Alarm bells rang with a frantic clamor in her ears. When she tried to speak, Sebastian pulled her to him, and she forgot what she wished to say. He had never held her so close before. Something wild sparked within her.
“Be quiet,” his voice was rough. “I’ve no interest in your damn confession. It will not keep me from you, or save you from me. You cannot know how I’ve obsessed over this moment when we would be alone.”
“But I-”
Sebastian slid his hands from her arms to her throat. As he cradled the sides of her neck, all coherent thought vanished. With the slightest effort, he could end her life with his bare hands. Once, she might have thought that to be a distinct probability, but not now. She did not believe he would hurt her.
His fingers laced at the back of her head while both thumbs coasted with nerve-wracking deliberateness, from a delicate spot on the underside of her chin to the hollow of her throat. Could he feel her pulse race through the leather of his gloves? The blood quickening below her skin? Ivy plummeted into a disorienting bog of instinct. It demanded she dissolve and thaw. Her head tipped back. Her eyes grew heavy.Let the earl do what he will. Open to him; lift your mouth to his. Kiss him. Let him kiss you…
His hands skated up until his palms cupped her face. Like silver fire, his eyes burned in the dimness of the coach. Different from the golden radiance of the lantern light, but warmer, somehow. A foreign tingle pulled from the pit of Ivy’s stomach when his hands remained on either side of her jaw, holding her prisoner. Their eyes locked.
“I don’t understand what is happening.” She did not intend to whisper her confusion aloud, but the words incited Sebastian. Dark, primitive need flared in his gaze.
“Listen to me, Ivy. Be very quiet, very still and listen to me. Whatever you say, whatever you do, any attempt to stop me, will not work. I will take what I want and you will let me.”
“I will?” What did he wish to take? Her soul? He could have it. Her body? That too. She was drowning in him, and God help her, she loved it. She wanted more. She could not tear herself away from him. She did not want to. “What...what do you want?”
“You. I want you. Ivy, you will crave it, these things I intend to do. You will beg, yes, beg me and I will do these things. To you. With you. For you. You will not stop me. Indeed, you will notwantto stop me.” His hands tightened on her jaw, keeping her steady, the leather suddenly hot against her skin. As if he were made of fire beneath the gloves. “Are you ready, Ivy? Because I must taste you before I go mad. Say yes. Say,‘yes, Sebastian, please taste me’”
She stared at him, and as if in a dream, she repeated the words in a voice so husky, she did not recognize it as her own. “Yes, Sebastian.Please...taste me.”
Sebastian’s lips curved. His lashes dropped, hiding his eyes. “Good girl.”
The kiss was like nothing Ivy imagined it would be. This kiss was so achingly sweet and so captivating, it sent her soul soaring.His mouth coaxed hers to open even more.Cinnamon.And the spicy sharpness of bourbon flooded her mouth. The two flavors created an intoxicating fusion. Everything inside her somersaulted. Melted. Burned. What was wrong was suddenly right, the forbidden instantly allowable. Long held boundaries erected by society, by the world, even her own self-imposed confines, were promptly reduced to cinders. The fluttering ashes of restraint drifted away on a moan.
Ivy was giddy with confusion, with the need to belong to him. No words existed to stop him, not when his hip pressed her leg, not with his mouth upon hers, not with his hands holding her so tight. Sebastian traced the shape of her lips, and when she inhaled in delight, the kiss deepened to one darker, hungrier. His tongue delved in slow, deliberate sweeps before dancing away in a teasing manner. He was testing her, to see if she would follow.
Allowing the butterfly come to him.
She would. She did.
Her nerves sparked, liquid and hot. Blindly, Ivy sought Sebastian’s mouth again and again. She let him kiss her until she was melting into the cushioned seat. Her hands fluttered across the broad expanse of his chest, his pulse thumping beneath the pads of her fingertips. In the haze of foreign sensations, there was a realization the earl’s heart did not keep time with the pounding of hers. No, his heartbeat was slow, methodic. Controlled. How was that possible? Why was he unaffected by the turmoil of emotions cascading around them? How could the swirling chaos inside her soul not devastate him too?
Her face still cradled in the palm of his hands, Sebastian’s fingers inched upward, threatening to entangle in the elegant upsweep of her coiffure. When she groaned her pleasure, he abruptly pulled away, removing his hands and allowing a bit of space between their bodies. He remained between her legs, but her skirts kept him from direct contact with her body. Wanting his heat and hardness to scorch her, she arched against him.
His head twisted, presenting his cheek. “Right here, if you please.”
Ivy made no move, her eyes drowsy and full of wonder at the burning world he just inducted her to. Tendrils of desire tangled about her limbs. Why did he stop? Why was he talking instead of kissing her?
“You should slap me quite soundly for my actions.” He waited for the palm of her hand to connect with his flesh. “Especially for what I made you say.”
His statement seeped in, slowly making sense in a languid world.
Sebastian wished her to strike him.
With a resounding wallop, a proper young miss would remind Lord Ravenswood that such valuable liberties were hard pressed to be won. Her easy capitulation to his advances flashed in Ivy’s frazzled mind. Would he think the worst of her for allowing such a kiss? Would he believe this to be a common occurrence? That she routinely granted such intimate favors to members of the Pack? Her cheeks burned, recalling the words she repeated at his command.Taste me…
No one ever dared kiss her in such a way. In such an all-consuming, possessive sort of way. She was far too eager for it to continue. The need for his mouth upon hers made it difficult to form coherent words and string them into complete sentences.
His dark brow rose. “I shall not offer again. Last chance and I must warn you, I do not play fair.”
