Page 50 of No One's Bride
“You’re so wet,” he moaned against her ear as a second finger joined the first to open her wider. “The next time I make you come, I mean to own you. I want you hugging my cock, taking me deep.”
His crude words did not shock or offend. They were like a potent aphrodisiac, stimulating every nerve.
He kissed her, his tongue plunging into the moist depths of her mouth, mimicking the gentle pumping of his fingers.
She was close to losing her mind.
Every muscle tensed.
An intense pressure built inside.
He stopped kissing her, but his lips lingered on hers as he waited for her to come apart on the last delicious stroke. Then her world exploded, all tension disappearing.
They stared at each other as she bore down on his fingers and rode every wild convulsion. He swallowed every pant, drank in her moans. Held her tight to his body, absorbing every shudder.
ChapterTen
Sebastian sat at Aaron Chance’s dining table, flicking through the book of sigils while sipping coffee. Pretending to examine the symbols when he could think of nothing but Miss MacTavish shuddering beneath his touch. The woman stirred something carnal in him. A beast he couldn’t contain.
Things were progressing just as he feared. Kissing wasn’t enough to ease the craving. Touching barely fed his addiction. He’d spent half the night trying to tame his cockstand, the other half dreaming about her sleeping naked beside him in bed.
But it went deeper than that.
He didn’t want to go back to bickering. He wanted to indulge every wicked fantasy—make love to her, to no one but her.
What the hell did it all mean?
One thing was certain. He was being manipulated by a force he didn’t understand. Had Michael suffered a similar fate? Had he met a temptress ashore? Was he held captive by her charms? Had he died of heartbreak, not a tropical fever?
Christian Chance strode into the dining room, his arrival providing a much-needed distraction. “I didn’t take you for an early riser, Denton.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Not while yearning to hold Miss MacTavish in his arms. “I decided to use the time to study the evidence we found last night.” Christian doubtless thought all peers were dissolute devils who slept until noon.
The man sat opposite, though there were eight other chairs around the table. Known as the King of Diamonds because of his golden hair and sparkling blue eyes, Christian was a scholar. One who studied facts and figures. A sturdy fellow with brains and brawn.
It came as no surprise when he said, “Show me the book you found.”
“By all means.” Sebastian handed Christian the small book, then took a sip of coffee. “We found similar symbols in the grimoire locked in your vault.”
He did not mention Michael’s book or his eerie suspicions.
Christian drew his spectacles from his coat pocket and wiped them on a napkin before sliding them onto his nose. He flicked through the pages, his eyes shining as bright as the diamond stick pin adorning his cravat.
“Sigils are symbols that are said to have magical powers.” Christian pointed to a specific image in the book. “This one for lust is a combination of different ink strokes. Whereas the annotations in the book are of a runic alphabet.”
“An alphabet?”
Christian nodded. “Each rune represents a letter. Each sigil represents an idea or a symbol of a supernatural spirit or deity. People assume they’re one and the same. But the alphabet is about human language. The symbol is a means of otherworldly communication. Now you just need to understand the connection.”
To say the man’s knowledge impressed Sebastian was an understatement. “I need time to study the grimoire, but the investigation keeps us busy night and day.”
“I can examine the spell book once I’ve finished the monthly accounts. There seems to be a pattern to the markings in the margins.”
Sebastian wished he’d noticed, but since touching Ailsa, logical thought had abandoned him. “I’m not sure you should study the grimoire. Not unless you want to be bound by a magical spell.”
Not that Sebastian was complaining.
He liked his current obsession.
