Page 79 of Counting on a Countess
Kit’s heart beat thickly as he awaited Tamsyn’s answer. She glanced around the ballroom, and he watched where her gaze landed—the couple fucking against the wall, a man sinking to his knees in front of another man, two men and one woman swaying together as their hands roamed each other’s bodies.
He used to appear at the Orchid Club regularly with Langdon. Tonight, in fact, Kit had spotted his friend flirting with Amina. After several visits, though, Kit’s fascination with the club had waned. The idea of fucking in public and watching others fuck lost its forbidden allure. As a precaution, after it had become known that Kit was on the hunt for a wife, he stopped attending evenings here altogether.
He hadn’t expected to become so aroused tonight. Yet being here with Tamsyn, watching her genuine response, inflamed him. He pictured himself licking her pussy, or her taking his cock in her mouth, or them standing up and urgently fucking. Everywhere his body was primed and ready, his aching cock most of all.
Kit couldn’t remember wanting a woman more. But he would wait and wait, until she was ready.
He’d taken a gamble, bringing her here. He hoped he hadn’t scared her further.
Tamsyn’s lips parted and her chest rose and fell rapidly. She turned her wide eyes to him.
“I want to leave,” she said breathlessly.
Guilt lanced him. He’d wanted this so much for them, and his instincts had been wrong. He’d brought her here to help alleviate her trepidation and show that sex was something to be celebrated. Yet he’d been terribly mistaken.
“The fault is mine,” he said grimly. “I’d thought, I’d hoped—but I was wrong.” He started toward the door.
She stepped in front of him and placed a surprisingly strong hand on his chest. “You misunderstand me,” she said, her voice husky. “It’s time for us to become husband and wife in fact as well as in name.”
For a moment, he could only stare at her. Perhaps he’d misheard. Yet the raw arousal in her gaze told him otherwise. She meant what she’d said.
“You’ve always been a bold woman,” he said. “I understood that the first time I saw you.”
“This bold woman wants her husband.” Her hand slid up to cup his jaw, and her touch aroused him beyond measure.
He threaded his fingers with hers and kissed her wrist, where her pulse throbbed. “That husband is hers to command.”
Chapter 19
There was a stretch of coastline back home that consisted of a twenty-foot-high cliff that plunged into the sea, with a small beach and cove beside it. Since time immemorial, village children had been daring each other to jump from the bluff into the water, then swim to the beach in triumph. Only a handful attempted it.
Though Tamsyn was the daughter of a baron, she’d always played with the local children, all of them disinterested in any class system that would keep them separate. Just a few days past her twelfth birthday, she’d been racing along the craggy coast with Julia Rowe and Louise Turner, when Louise had challenged Tamsyn to leap from the cliff into the sea.
Tamsyn had taken a deep breath, and then ran right over the edge of the bluff.
Riding in the carriage with Kit, she felt exactly the same as she had in those seconds running toward the cliff’s brink. Giddy, elated, uncertain. Afraid of the unknown but welcoming it. Her whole body was electric with anticipation.
She was a grown woman now and made choices because she wanted to, not because someone goaded her into it. Doubt fell away.
Kit sat opposite Tamsyn, his gaze never leaving her face, except to dip down along the length of her neck to linger at the skin exposed by the low neckline of her gown. Wherever he looked, she felt heat and a surge of awareness, as though he touched her with his fingers—or his mouth. From time to time, he brushed his lips with his knuckles, as if he already anticipated the taste of her. They had both removed their masks, so it was impossible to miss the raw desire that gleamed in his eyes.
He said nothing, and the silence only built her tension higher.
But she wanted this, wantedhim, badly. She’d been ready to yield to the demands of her body, and seeing all that she had at the club only ignited her further.
At last, the carriage reached their home. Kit got out on his own and helped her down. His hand was hot as it held hers, and he didn’t relinquish his hold on her once she stood beside him on the curb.
They climbed the front steps together and entered the foyer. Most of the servants were already abed, so a lone drowsy footman shut the door behind them and handed Kit a lit taper to navigate the darkened house. Side by side, she and Kit ascended the stairs. Her heartbeat thudded with each step. In the flickering light, he was sinfully handsome and she marveled that this dazzling, sensuous man would soon be her lover as well as her husband.
At the top of the stairs, he turned to her. “Whose room would you prefer?”
“Mine.”
Within moments, they were in her chamber. As Kit shut the door, Tamsyn released his hand and went to the fire burning low in the grate. She bent and stirred the embers with a poker, urging the flames to life.
Tamsyn stood as Kit approached, moving toward her with intent. Keeping his gaze on hers, he uncurled her fingers from the poker and set the tool aside.
He narrowed the space between them, until their chests brushed against each other. Slowly, he reached up and removed pins from her hair. The pins fell to the carpet but she paid them no mind as he went about his task with a serious, studious thoroughness. Locks of her hair tumbled free over her shoulders. When all of her hair had been unpinned, he combed his fingers through the strands. His careful attention made her heart contract with pleasure.
