Page 88 of Seductive Reprise
Now Rose felt overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder. She could accept his assistance. Assistance that came from his love, his regard for her talent and skill. Not from a perceived innate superiority, and his desire to see her own hers.
Yusef had found the fastening, and her petticoats pooled on the floor around her feet, along with the lovely blue serge skirt. When she leaned forward to remove her stockings, his hand stilled hers, and he gently lifted her against him, carrying her toward the bed.
“What say you?”
He sat on the edge of it, holding her in his lap. He nuzzled her neck; the slight hint of stubble sent a shiver down her back.
“I’ll allow that,” she said, overcome with emotion. She then turned, looked to his mouth, his fine, gorgeous mouth, andlevied the second charge, her voice thick. “However, I’d meant to come here as a stranger. I’d meant to hone my manners. To see if perhaps I could exist like this…” She trailed off, glancing up at his dark eyes through her lowered lashes.
“Like what?” he whispered.
“Like your wife.”
He pounced on her again, his mouth hot on her neck, his fingers digging into the sparse flesh of her waist. She moaned, her hands reaching back and over her head, lacing through his thick hair. Her middle tightened.
With his other hand he lightly caressed her atop her drawers before slowly increasing pressure, then palming the mound of her pubis. Warmth began pooling there, and she jerked forward. Yusef held firm, keeping her in his lap, pressed against his erection. Rose whimpered, wanting very much to move her hips against it. He tightened his arm about her waist. His exploratory hand slid underneath the slit in her drawers again, petting her curls in an agonizingly gentle manner.
“Is that all?” he growled. “Or am I to be castigated further?”
“No, it’s not—” she began, but cut herself off with a gasp when he dipped his fingers inside her, searching for her wetness.
“Pity,” he said, dragging her own slickness up to the apex of her desire. “For I’m done waiting.”
“But I’ve not finished,” Rose panted. Her breathing became labored as his fingers circled slowly. She shifted in his lap, wanting more, needing to unravel this climbing tension. But still he held fast.
“You will have, soon,” he whispered against her ear, then bent down to bite her neck.
With a gasp, she threw her shoulders back, arching against him. Her final contentions fled, and everything became golden sparks, low moans, and hitched breaths. She caught the heady scent of her own sex, and became incapable of speech or reason,writhing about in his lap. When she climaxed she called out his name, and he pressed on, not yielding until she called it out once more with a desperate sob.
His fingers stilled. Rose slumped back against him, feeling somehow both alive in every humming fiber of her being and equally exhausted and indolent. Her breathing began to slow, and there was a slight sheen of sweat covering her, her chemise clinging to her back and breasts, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. Neither could Yusef, it seemed, who was dragging languid kisses from the nape of her neck to one shoulder.
“Mmm,” she sighed.
“Stand up,” he murmured, tracing a hand down her chest.
Rose shivered. Her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment she considered crawling up the bed to sleep. But then she felt him beneath her, and the craving returned. Without speaking she stood, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Yusef stood as well. He kissed her, and bent down to remove her stockings, then her drawers. Rose pulled her chemise over her head.
Still kneeling before her, he grabbed her rear, pulling her against his face. Before Rose could make head or tails of it, she gasped at the feel of his tongue.
“Yusef, please…” she begged. “I’m so… it’s so… it’s too much, too soon, I…” She never finished the sentence, instead crumpling over him with a low, guttural moan, caught completely by surprise.
He held her like that, her half-bent over him as she shook. Finally he pulled them both up to standing.
“What a wondrous thing is a woman,” he murmured, before kissing her once more.
Rose hardly knew what to do with herself, she felt so utterly and thoroughly spent, her heartbeat a massive pendulumswinging within her, so heavy that it unsteadied her. Yusef gently turned her about, facing the bed.
“Shh, sweetness,” he said, guiding her down so that she might lie on her belly. He leaned over to delicately brush her hair to one side, off her back. Then he placed a gentle kiss on her neck and shushed her once more.
Rose tucked her arms beneath her and took a deep, shaking breath, listening to the sounds of him undressing, a hazy happiness settling upon her. And she knew she would be his, even if she couldn’t manage a drawing room full of gentry and grandees. For in his bed he was hers, completely. The compelling and coolly possessed Yusef Ghali belonged to her. Others might know him as Joseph Palgrave, a duke’s bastard, but she knew him by his true name, passionate and driven, with her as his only desire.
And what was that, if not something to be proud of? She smiled and stretched her arms out, feeling endlessly beguiling.
“My God,” Yusef breathed, climbing over her, bracketing her legs with his. He leaned forward to kiss her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful. So beautiful.” He caressed her at the small of her back, sending shivers throughout her body. And then he leaned back on his heels and lifted her bottom from the bed.
Heat pooled between her thighs once more, and she gathered enough energy to push up on her hands. He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing along her lips, coating himself with her arousal.
