Page 68 of The Good Girl's Guide to Rakes
“Believe me, love,” he rumbled, “what I’d like to do with you is the maximum.”
“Arethere things you’d like to do with me?” she asked, finding it difficult to catch her breath.
He sat up and prowled close, his breath warm on her cheek and spiced with wine. “Many, many things. And I’m having a very difficult time convincing myself that we shouldn’t do them.”
Chapter 16
Kieran fell into the profundity of Celeste’s gaze as she stared back at him. In those hazel depths, he saw arousal, but more than that, he saw acceptance. He’d revealed his most secret self to her, and she not only accepted him, she celebrated who he was.
Soft warmth flooded his body, even as he tightened with need for her. What he’d said to her was true—he ached with desire and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why they had to stay away from each other, or why they shouldn’t yield to the attraction that crackled between them.
Her lips parted, and her pulse fluttered frantically at the base of her throat. Though she had just been dancing, her breath accelerated even more at his words.
“You’ll drive me to madness,” he snarled when she stroked a finger down her neck, “if you keep touching yourself like that.”
“I thought poets welcomed madness,” she said huskily.
“I’m suitably inspired without it.”
She glanced down, and her eyes widened even more when she saw how his cock surged inside his breeches. There was no sense in pretending that she didn’t affect him, and there was something so delectable about her knowing what she did to him.
“Watching you dance,” he murmured, “I truly did lose my mind.”
“Surely you’ve seen more than a flash of bare leg.”
“Everything I’ve seen before now doesn’t matter.” He leaned even closer, narrowing the distance between them to mere inches. “It was watching you free yourself. You loved it, and I loved to see it.”
He paid no attention to the celebration that continued to unfold around them. The music started up once more. Later, he would pay Opal the fiddle player and Quintin the drummer at least a pound for having heeded his silent request that they stop playing before Celeste had disrobed entirely. Perhaps she had been ready to strip in front of the crowd, butKierancertainly wasn’t ready for that.
He’d never, until this moment, wanted someone as much as he wanted her. Hunger for her had taken him over, replacing every part of him. The beat of his heart was now desire, and his lungs were fiery need. He was acutely aware of every inch of his body, just as he was aware of every inch of hers—the beads of perspiration along her cheeks, the widening of her pupils.
“Perhaps it’s time to leave,” she said, low and husky.
It was a disappointment and a relief. He didn’t want this night to end, and yet it was better if itdid, before either of them did anything that they’d regret. He typically didn’t allow feelings of regret—the present moment was all that existed—yet he needed to consider more than himself.
“As you like,” he answered.
“Take me back to the dressing room.” She rose and slid her bare feet into her slippers.
Did she realize that she’d issued a command instead of a question? This imperious side of her was delicious.
He didn’t bother with saying goodbyes to the other celebrants, too focused on the sway of Celeste’s hips as she wended her way off the stage to head toward the dressing rooms. The corridors were draped in shadow, yet he followed her unerringly, as though she was indeed the constellation of which he’d written.
He’d never counted prescience as one of his talents, but perhaps in his Irish lineage there was some seer who read the future in bones and stars. For how else could he have known that she was indeed as celestial as her name, and that he would be guided by her? The destination was unknown but he welcomed the journey.
She stepped into the dressing room yet lingered steps away from the open door. He leaned one of his shoulders against the jamb and crossed one boot over the other.
“I’ll need your assistance to remove my gown,” she said huskily.
It was a lie and they both knew it.
Should he? Shouldthey? God knew how much he wanted her. And she wanted him. At that moment, nothing mattered more than that.
A battle raged within him, to yield to this passion or to walk away. Their time together was running out, and he was selfish enough to seize the provided chance. Yet he could give her so much, and damn it, he burned to give her everything. Hewouldgive her all that she desired.
He straightened, and shut and locked the door behind him before approaching. Her breath came fast and shallow, as did his when she turned and presented him with the fastenings that ran along the side of her bodice. He undid the hooks, fingertips brushing against her revealed stays.
“God how I wish women weren’t compelled to wear such restrictive garments,” he muttered. “I want to touch your skin.”
