Page 85 of Taming Ivy
Before she could answer, his mouth swooped down, his tongue delving to fence with hers, swirling around, leisurely tasting her. And she could not move, not with the weight of his muscular body pushing her against the bookcase. His hands kept hers prisoner while his mouth continued to search and give and take and request until Ivy finally melted.
Sebastian growled. A low, deep sound of want and need. Desire and frustration. Even with the layers of cloth between them, his arousal was evident. An answering spark lit within Ivy, one she wished did not exist. It was dangerous to her sanity. She tried shifting away, but he held her too tight.
"I want you.” Tearing his mouth from hers, Sebastian laid a flaming hopscotch of kisses along the curve of her throat. "I want you as I have never wanted another woman. And God help me, it’s only been one day and already I grow impatient with this waiting. What must I do to have you, Ivy? What must I do to make you want me with the same desperation I feel? I'm mad for you. Utterly and completely insane...but you know this."
His grip shifted, holding her wrists in one hand higher above her head while his other smoothed down her side, skimming the curve of her breast before coming to rest in the indentation of her waist. That light touch tracing her form, through layers of silk and muslin, was scorching.
"You mustn't say such things.” Ivy’s words dissolved into a moan of longing. Her knees wobbled, suddenly incapable of holding her weight.
"Mustn't I?" Sebastian murmured. He pressed sinful kisses pressed to her jawline, drifting along the delicate line of her collarbone revealed by the neckline of her gown until she sucked in a sharp breath. He took great pleasure in seducing her and, shameless creature that she was, she was powerless to stop him.
Finally, he released her, allowing her arms to fall. A flounce of lace along her shoulder was flicked back into place with his index finger. "You win, my dear.” Resignation rumbled in his tone, his eyes dark with challenge. "Shall we continue our tour?”
Bright and airy, the music room was exquisite. Wallpapered in cream on cream satin stripes and accented with dark blue, the woman’s touch it exhibited plucked at Ivy’s heart. It was both feminine and sophisticated at the same time. Another painting of the late countess hung over the fireplace. This one included Sebastian as a dark haired, grey-eyed little boy about the age of five.
“She was so very lovely,” Ivy observed. The artist did a masterful job capturing the merriment in his mother’s eyes as well as the mischief in Sebastian’s. “You were quite the handsome little lord.”
“It is one of my favorite paintings of her.” Sebastian wore a tiny smile as he considered the portrait. “I never saw Mother cross, although I am sure she must have occasionally been. Theirs was an arranged marriage, but she and my father fell in love very quickly. It nearly destroyed him when she passed.”
“How did she die?” Ivy asked gently. Sebastian’s sadness was noticeable although his demeanor remained unchanged. Extremely sensitive to it, she could not stop her hand from finding his.
He squeezed her hand while gazing up at the portrait. “Giving birth to my sister. The babe was stillborn and Mother died a few hours later. I was twelve at the time.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ivy moved closer until she nearly hugged his arm.
“It was difficult for my father, although I suffered her loss with a depth of heartache almost unbearable. You must understand since you lost your own mother at the same age.” Sebastian turned suddenly, taking both of her hands within his, his eyes dark. “The day is too beautiful to dwell on the sadness of the past.” When he smiled, it only took a moment for the light of it to reach his eyes. “Tell me, what do you think of the music room? Does it please you? Would you like to redecorate it, put your own touch on it?”
Sebastian offered the opportunity to change a favored room of his mother’s, and Ivy’s heart swelled. He wished to please her, to help her feel as though at least one room in this enormous place felt like hers, but if she were honest, she would change nothing. The former Countess of Ravenswood and she shared similar tastes. The room was perfect as it was; timeless and graceful, unspoiled by the capriciousness of a society following every decorating fad until the style of a room was a hopeless mishmash of clashing trends.
“I would not change a thing,” she replied and Sebastian nodded in pleasure.
“I’m heartily glad to hear that. I recall our first kiss was in your music room.”
“Yes.” Ivy blushed. “I busted your lip then nearly crippled myself jumping up from the piano. I was so surprised.”
“So was I.”
Ivy tilted her head. “How so? You knew you were going to kiss me.”
“Yes, but I did not know how it would affect me.” He tipped her chin with a finger. “Somewhere within my soul, I knew you were destined to be mine, only I did not realize it then. And now, here we are.”
He brushed her lips lightly with his own, and her eyes fluttered shut. She swayed toward him, but Sebastian abruptly stepped away.
“Play for me. Something cheerful,” he said, moving toward the piano. “When Mother was here, this room was always lively. I’m glad it will once again be filled with music and laughter.”
Ivy gratefully sank down on the bench, her knees weak. When he sat beside her, she began to play the melody from the afternoon when they first kissed. Sebastian’s smile told her he remembered it well and she nearly basked in the glory of his approval.
The ballroom was next. Ivy admired the white and gold gilded plasterwork, the tall, soaring fluted columns circling the highly polished light oak floor. The room could comfortably hold four hundred or more people, the space stretching like an open field. Ten huge crystal chandeliers hung from the high-coffered barrel ceiling and encompassing one wall were glass doors opening to a large terrace overlooking the parterre gardens. A fountain similar to the one in front of the manor occupied the garden center. Decorated in shades of gold, silver and blue, the entire room shimmered with light and richness in a sophisticated, unmistakable display of the earl’s wealth.
"Oh, how exquisite the gardens are,” Ivy exclaimed, crossing to the windows to gaze at the gardens. She fingered the heavy, gold damask of the draperies, admiring the intricate scrolling pattern of dark blue embossed in the fine fabric.
"They should be,” Sebastian said. "A veritable army keep the grounds pristine even though I’m not in residence.”
“It seems a shame not to utilize the beauty in this grand space.”
“There is reason, now that we’ve wed. Come, no one has danced on this floor in almost six years, and longer than that since my mother danced here with my father.” Tugging Ivy to the middle of the ballroom floor, Sebastian executed a courtly bow. “Would you grant me the honor of being the first Countess of Ravenswood to do so in more than sixteen years?"
"There’s no music…" Despite the protest, her hands automatically clutched his shoulders.
