Page 30 of Taming Ivy
Ivy pulled off her gloves as well, setting them carefully on the same table, along with her pier glasses.
“Are you sure you won’t take a brandy?”
Something indefinable flickered in his eyes as he studied her profile. “I must be going.”
“Yes, of course.”
There was a slight tremble of her hands. When she bit her lower lip, he grinned. “Come here, Ivy.”
“What if I don’t wish to?” Her voice was hesitant resistance. Sebastian’s smile was complete wickedness.
“You have no choice.”
“Don’t I?” Ivy traced the edge of the marble table with an index finger. “Everyone should have choices. Mine is to remain safely out of reach.”
He chuckled at her naivety. “Oh, little butterfly... a minor point to be consideredbeforeinviting me to stay.” Her eyes met his, bright with sudden alarm and Sebastian blew out a sigh of exaggerated patience. “Very well, I shall come to you.”
Ivy attempted to keep a healthy distance but her retreat did not deter him. If anything, it increased his lethal determination, his eyes glowing with the excitement of the chase.
He finally cornered her against the far wall of the foyer, where the shadows were the deepest and most secret, where the low gaslight of the chandelier did not quite reach. Bracing his hands flat on the wall on either side of Ivy’s head, Sebastian leaned in and then did not move at all. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, that intriguing blend of oranges and lilies. That damned perfume had tied him in knots for the better part of two weeks. He wanted to devour her - just for that scent alone.
And although there was no logic to it, he was going to give her a chance to save herself.
His hands lightly curled into twin fists, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. Sucking in a deep breath, he released it and his words were a hoarse whisper.
“Call for your butler. Your maid. Better still…call for your father.”
“What?”
He confused her. Understandable. How did one respond to being hunted in her own foyer then instructed to call for help?
“I dismissed Brody,” she stuttered, “My maid has been abed for hours. As for my father, he’s presently not even in London…I don’t understand…”
Sebastian’s eyes snapped open, hot pinpoints of desire flaring in their depths. The opportune moment to take yet another piece of her presented itself. And he possessed precious little self-control with her anyway. “It can’t be said I denied you a chance to escape, Countess.”
His mouth swooped down to claim hers, a torrent of heat and sexual frustration. The interlude in the carriage was tame compared to this assault. A greedy flame ignited within him. Ivy tasted so goddamn sweet, kissing her should be crime. Thrusting his tongue deep, he gathered as much of her into his mouth as possible. There was a flash of a struggle before Ivy sighed. Her arms curled about his neck.
Although Sebastian trembled with the effort not to do so, he did not crush her to him. It was a simple defense mechanism. Without it, and he would likely take Ivy Kinley right there in the shadowy corner of her elegant foyer.
It was far too soon for that. She did not love him.Yet. It was not possible to crush her heart.Yet.But soon, judging by her enthusiastic responses, soon he’d have everything from her.
As her arms squeezed about him, he maintained the distance between them, her breasts barely brushing his chest as he ravaged her mouth. Holding her was embracing liquid fire. She filled his hands to overflowing, her curves somehow bending around him. Dear God, it was a bloody fight within his soul not to throw her against the wall and sink into her heat. As the kiss went on, his legendary resolve inevitably slipped. Would she stop him from whatever he wished to do?
One touch of her. One touch and no more.Slowly, Sebastian gathered handfuls of her skirts, his free hand wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her in place. Pulling the frothy petticoats to one side, up past her knees, the bunched mass hung over his forearm. His hand swept beneath the drifts of fabric.
Ivy accepted his palm splayed across the upper part of her thigh. Having breached this forbidden land so easily, he dared to steal more. His fingers trailed higher, over the garter holding her stockings. Discovering the smoothness of bare skin above a circlet of soft lace was magical. His core jerked with lust when Ivy quivered. Her mouth melted into his. Sebastian pressed closer to the bewitchment of her body. Defenses be damned. He needed more of her.
Heat spiraled about them both.
His hips fit the space between her thighs perfectly, as though he were always meant to be there. The skin beneath his fingertips felt as fine as newly woven silk. He imagined the color to be of honey-tinged cream, the hidden curls at the apex of her thighs surely a soft, gilded chestnut. Sebastian’s groan rumbled deep in his chest. He knew how she would taste on his tongue, buttery and sweet, like honeyed milk.
He scattered new kisses in different places. Delicate kisses to the faint freckles skating across her nose, shutting his eyes to the dazed light in hers. His lips grazed her chin, trailed down her throat before leisurely traveling up to nip her ear. He smiled with understanding as her breath came in desperate little gasps. Her breasts swelled against the limitations of her gown, and he considered dragging the bodice down to fully savor her. When her fingers slipped through the thick black waves of his hair, pressing his head harder against her, he decided he would do that too.In a moment.
“Stay still,” he ordered when she swayed and dizzily clutched at his shoulders. And when his fingers swept into the heat between her thighs, Sebastian found he was the one suddenly motionless.
The feel of her on his fingertips drove him insane. She was soft and wet, those low, panting sighs of hers arousing him to a fever pitch. He wanted to push himself into her, as deep as possible…to bury himself in velvety warmth, cradled within her and with her heartbeat all around him. Somehow, he managed to remain still, waiting for her decision. Either come to him or stop him. She must be on the verge of stopping him. She had to be. She could not allow this to continue…
Ivy shifted. Her legs parted, allowing him greater access. Like a butterfly opening her wings. Inviting him to explore. To plunder and claim.
