Page 31 of The Rake
CHAPTER 14
Of all the reactions Langley had expected from Margot, this had not been it. He might have hoped or dreamt of hearing that strangled gasp of desire, but from a vicar’s daughter, one who had spent the last ten days to two weeks cementing a platonic wall around herself, that desire was not something he would have imagined from her. It didn’t mean, of course, that he didn’t smile, and she must have seen that grin, because Margot turned away from him, hiding her face in her hands.
“Don’t look at me.” Margot moved away, turning as if she meant to run into the darkness.
In haste, Langley moved forward to her. When he reached Margot, he wrapped his arms around her with as much gentleness as he could manage. It angered him to no end that women were made to feel shame for their desires. Her admittance had been a godsend, but he would hardly be cad enough to act… despite how much that one little outcry of hers had shot a lightning bolt of want through his body, and his cock was throbbing for her. Hopefully she was naive enough not to notice, or failing that, that his trousers hid the evidence.
“Hush” His forehead rested against hers as he held her lightly, hoping he sounded sufficiently soothing. “There is nothing in this world you could do to be embarrassing, and desire is one of the greatest joys there is.”
She wriggled against him, and Langley immediately stiffened, the fleeting touch of her body inflaming him. But he needed to stay in control, to not allow himself the pleasure of her tantalisingly warm perfume, or to luxuriate for too long in the feel of her slender shoulders under his grip.
“I—Just…” Margot’s voice was very low, whispered close to his face as she stared up at him. He couldn’t see her expression, but he could sense her trembling uncertainty, and something else—something he thought he knew all too well: feminine need. “I don’t think I can be at ease. I ache… as if there is…” Margot trailed off, and she shook her head. “I should not be saying such things to you.”
With an unsteady release of breath, Langley controlled himself. It was not the first time a woman had admitted her desires aloud in his presence, in fact he had lost track of the number of times they had approached him hoping for his ‘help’. But there was something utterly consuming and different about Margot’s revelation. If he moved in that moment, it would be to push her through the nearest door and into whatever bedroom happened to be there, to capture her mouth with a hundred kisses, taste the sweet nectar of her tongue and lips, and then rip her clothes from her body. All the promises and reminders of the last fortnight were now working against him. Normally, extending his acquaintance with a woman or lady taught him all the little ways they would not suit beyond the bedroom. In Margot’s case it seemed as if the qualities he admired in the daytime were driving him wilder. He wanted her because of her qualities, whether that was her bravery or her talk of her family. The humour at the absurdities of thetonmade the intimate posethey now found themselves in even more illicit, and all prior memories of other women faded from his mind.
There was a mad, urgent need to possess her which had Langley in its grip so tightly that for one wild second, he indulged in the idea of what heaven it would be to give in to temptation.
Of course, he couldn’t do any of that.
She wriggled again.
“Stop it.” He had meant to sound jokingly irate, but instead his tone came out with a husky edge to it. Her hips with the last move had jogged against his front, the most unconscious of brushes, and yet it was driving him out of his mind.
“It won’t pass,” Margot said, and Langley knew precisely what she meant, and when she leant closer, pressing herself entirely against his frame, her neat body flush to his, all those restrictions and naysaying thoughts fled from him. With his forehead still resting against hers, Langley lowered his right hand from her shoulder, and with a deft touch gave her all the time in the world to move away if she wanted to.
Margot did not. Instead, he felt a small shuddering breath escape her lips as his fingers drifted down and over the small shape of her perfect breast. Her neck tipped back, and in the faint light of the lantern he saw her swallow. Unable to stop himself, Langley’s hand moved faster, over her stomach and down to nestle in amongst the soft silk of her gown, he pressed in as close as he could get, rubbing at the apex of her thighs, touching her sex through the material. He could feel the sheer wanton wetness of want.
Margot’s eyes opened wide as he stroked her through the material, the beat of her breaths heightened as their eyes locked.
“Silvester—I want—I—” It was bliss to hear his name on her lips.
“I know,” Langley said. There were even some nerves at the back of his mind in case he could not bring her completion—this had never worried him before, but it mattered so greatly that he could. With a grim realisation, he knew that this was the risk of becoming friends with Margot first. Now he cared, more than he ever had previously… Perhaps it was even more than friendship.
She shifted her sex against his hand once more, lifting herself against his fingers with a keenness that was so provokingly intense.
Together they struggled back against the wall of the passageway, Langley fumbling with the folds of her silken red skirt, lifting and adjusting her until Margot was flat against the panelling. There was no time to crash through the nearest doorway, besides, something told him that if he dragged the pair of them through into whatever available bedroom he happened to find, Margot might regain her senses.
In his own eagerness for her, Langley hardly had time to admire the shapely outline of Margot’s long, stockinged legs, or even the nakedness of her long legs before he found what he sought—Margot’s damp, dark curls. God, had anyone ever wanted a woman more?
“Hold on to your skirts.” Langley did not recognise his voice as a small part of her dress got in his way.
Unquestioningly, perhaps for the first time ever, Margot followed his direction, snatching up the material of her gown and clutching it to her torso. The back of her head was thrown back as she writhed and gasped against the wall each time that he touched her. His finger stroked in increasingly strong movements, finding the specific place inside her that would made Margot squirm.
Langley dipped one of his fingers into her tight passage. She was warm, tight, and inviting. Whilst there was only a faint amount of flickering light for him to see her, Langley could makeout the outline of Margot’s delectable sex, the curving points of her hips and the sheen of her pale skin. Distantly, he wondered if Madam Sandrine or her servant might come upon them, but then he heard Margot laugh as she moved, and the thought of anyone else fled from his mind.
“Like that,” she said, pulling Langley back to her with just a whisper. Her feet arched upwards as she strained against his fingers. One of her stockings had completely dropped down her thigh to pool around her ankle, leaving yet more of her body exposed. He wanted to kiss all of her and tell Margot how lovely he thought she was as he explored her.
In fact, that was an excellent idea, Langley told himself with pride. After all, thinking of anything beyond simply touching Margot was now a distant concept. With that in mind, he dropped to his knees before her, lifting Margot up so that her legs draped either side of his head, adjusting her to give himself better access to her sex. His face was buried amongst her curls, those delicious legs of hers hanging down his back, and all he could smell, and taste was her.
Margot cried out as his tongue pierced and stroked against the peak of her sex, it was music to his ears. Langley felt certain the noises she was making were some of the sweetest he’d ever heard. Of course, he’d imagined previously how Margot might sound in the height of her passions, but the reality was far better.
As he swirled his tongue more thoroughly against the inner folds of Margot’s sex, he could feel her body tensing against the intrusion. Distantly, his mind told him not to press in too deeply with his mouth or fingers, he hardly wanted to take Margot’s virginity in a mere passageway. But that knowledge pulled against the reality of her squirming body, and his own need to worship at the fount of her, drinking in every single moan, wriggle, and reaction.
Being with her so, unmanned in a way, he could understand. His passion felt like a thing alive—unhealthy, and needy, and almost animalistic in its desire to consume and be one. But the idea scared him too.
Sexual congress had always been his forte, and Margot had dismissed his libertine choices. For her to now admit she too felt desire was a bittersweet sort of victory. Still, it was an uncalled-for emotion. It would have been an enjoyable time, so as his tongue probed more deeply into Margot, she gave another lusty cry, her body shaking, and Langley knew she was close. That sudden, vicious thought entered his head on running, inexpiable but present as he fought both his own wants and the overwhelming need to continue tasting her.
“Margot.” He eased his head back to look up at her, visible as a tempting, writhing sight above him, balanced delightfully on his shoulders. His fingers took the place of his tongue to play and touch the folds of her sex as he watched Margot arch and reach desperately for her release. Their eyes met, hers keen and needy.
