Page 54 of The Sound of Seduction
She blinked, her resolve returning as if sparked by his quiet invitation. Slowly, she gave a small but determined nod. When he leaned in, she followed, closing the space with a surge of courage.
Her breath mingled with his, her pulse racing as she prepared for this moment—not as a timid heroine from a storybook but as herself, Wendy, who was ready to learn something new and face it head-on.
*
Stan leaned closer,his breath mingling with Wendy’s, a shared warmth in the chilly confines of the carriage. His eyes traced the curve of her lips, soft and slightly parted, as if inviting him forward. He fought the pull of instinct, held himself in check—not out of propriety, but something far more thrilling.
“Wendy,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his pulse raced faster than any words could admit. “If you’ll trust me… part your lips. Gently. Just a touch.”
She did—tentatively, hesitantly, her gaze flicking between his mouth and his eyes, searching. The uncertainty in her expression was as endearing as it was intoxicating.
He swallowed hard. “Now, if you wish, close your eyes, and follow my movements. Copy me.” His thumb brushed her cheek—a light, fleeting touch, enough to calm her while his restraint frayed. “Grant me access, Wendy. Only if you wish it.”
Her lashes lowered, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure she understood. But then her lips softened beneath his, telling him everything. Her tentative trust opened the door just wide enough to unravel him. He pressed forward, capturing her mouth and coaxing her into an entirely new experience.
This was not a tumble as earlier at Cloverdale House.
This was deliberate.
Intentional.
Thrilling.
Heat spiraled between them, slow at first, a warm tendril winding through the cold air of the night. Her lips yielded to him tentatively, her inexperience painfully sweet and wholly undoing. He deepened the kiss, and for a moment, the air around them vanished.
Stan tried to focus, to continue his whispered instructions, but the taste of her—like something forbidden and stolen—drew the thoughts right out of his head. She was delicious, soft, and utterly consuming.
Her hands, he noticed, hovered awkwardly between them, fingers curling and uncurling like she wasn’t sure what to do. He grinned faintly against her lips and pulled back just enough to speak, his voice rough. “Your hands,” he whispered, taking them gently and guiding them upward. He placed them against his chest, a solid barrier of warmth beneath her touch. “You can touch me anywhere you want.”
Her fingers trembled briefly before sinking into the fabric of his coat, her gaze darting back to his. “Me too,” she whispered, her voice husky, desire threaded through her words.
Her hands drifted upward, threading into his hair, her touch bolder now. She raked through the strands, and the sensation pulled a shiver from him that he couldn’t suppress. His mouth moved against hers again, possessive now, and when her tongue darted out to brush his lower lip, he groaned low in his chest.
Stan opened his mouth, and she flicked her tongue hesitantly into the warmth of his. He didn’t guide her this time, couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried. Instead, he cupped the back of her head and tilted her just enough to take her deeper. When she mimicked his movements, shyly at first but with growing enthusiasm, it felt as though his heart cracked to lock her in.
A deep, guttural growl escaped him, raw and unbidden. Wendy broke the kiss only to catch her breath, her chest heaving against his own. Her wide eyes sparkled with mischief and discovery as she whispered, “I know this sound now.”
Stan blinked at her, still half-reeling, his breath ragged. “What is it?”
Her lips curved into a small, devilish grin. “The sound of seduction.”
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity, the words a spark in the tinder of his desire. With no further warning, his hands slid lower, tracing down her back, over the curve of herhips. She gasped softly as his grip tightened, and in one fluid motion, he grabbed hold of her bottom and lifted her.
Wendy moved without hesitation, her skirts brushing his legs as she straddled him. For someone so new to this, she was a quick learner.Talented. Hands-on indeed.
And Stan knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he could never keep his hands off her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Minutes later, thesteady rhythm of hooves ceased, and the carriage came to a halt before Gunter’s Tea Shop at 7-8 Berkeley Square. The amber glow of the shop’s windows bathed the quiet street with warmth, a contrast to the chilly evening air. Stan stepped down first, his shoes landing firmly on the cobblestones, before turning to assist Wendy. She placed her gloved hand in his, her grip delicate but certain, and descended with a just-kissed flush that drew his gaze for a moment longer than necessary.
Wendy’s earlier delight lingered on her features, her cheeks faintly pink from the cold—or perhaps from their shared breathless moments in the carriage. Her smile was so unreserved, so vivid, it tightened something in Stan’s chest, though he didn’t dwell on it. He offered his arm, and she took it lightly, her fingers brushing his sleeve as though this was where they were meant to be.
Stan pushed open the door, the bell above chiming softly. A gust of sweetness enveloped them—a blend of citrus and faint floral notes mixed with the spicy undertone of cinnamon wafting from behind the counter. Wendy blinked, slightly off balance as her gaze swept across the shop. Rows of neat jars and tins lined the pastel-painted walls, their contents etched in neat lettering. Beneath glass-domed trays on the polished counter sat the famous ices in appetizing hues—pale creams, soft yellows, delicate pinks—half-melted under the warmth of the lamps that lit the space.
Stan took in the tiled floor patterned with faint geometries, the meticulous order of the display, and the weary clerk wiping his hands on a linen towel behind the counter.
“Sorry, we’ve just closed,” the clerk said, his tone matter-of-fact but not entirely unkind. “Was just about to lock up for the night.”
