Page 63 of The Art of Sinning
Ohhhh, goodLord. Her knees gave way and she gripped the desk for dear life. His lips were... and his teeth were... and... and... oh,marvelous! She pushed into him, greedy for more.
With a growl, he gripped her hips to lock her against his insolent, clever mouth. A drumbeat call to pleasure sounded in her ears, and, like a soldier blindly following, she marched toward it, faster, determined to catch the elusive sensation running just ahead of her.
“Jeremy... please... oh,please!”
He quickened his strokes, and she strained to capture that delicious feeling that was so very... very...
She hurtled over the edge and plunged right into bliss.
Oh yes... yes...yes!
A fractured cry escaped her, and her body shook and writhed with her enjoyment. What exquisite heaven!
It took some moments for her gasps to subside, and her body to settle into a luxurious contentment. So this was what it could be like with a man. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, wanting to touch him, to be close to him.
His motions had already slowed. His mouth turned gentler, softer. Withdrawing. He kissed her thigh, wiped his mouth on her drawers, then slipped from beneath her leg and rose.
She leaned into him, unable to look at him. “That was... I didn’t know... I never guessed—”
“I knew you would take your pleasure with the fierceness of a lioness.” Enfolding her in his arms, he nuzzled her neck. “And I had to see it, at least once. Forgive me for that.”
At least once.Why did he insist on building walls between them when there was no need? She didn’t understand him. He wouldn’t let her.
“Nowthatis something I wish I could capture on canvas,” he said. “You in the throes of pleasure. But alas, I could never be that good an artist. No one could.” He kissed the pulse at her temple. “That should tell you right there that you’re more than a model to me.”
“But not enough to be a wife.” When he stilled, she wished she could take back the words. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I could never make you a good husband. I lack an essential—”
A loud knock came at the door, and they jerked apart. Then they heard someone try the handle. Frantically, she sought to restore her clothing, to don her cloak and find her mask.
“I told you, my lord,” Mrs. Beard said to someone else, “he’s in there with his actress friend, Miss Hardcastle. He’ll be out when he’s ready.”
“He’ll be outnow, if I have anything to say about it,” growled a male voice.
Oh, Lord, it wasWarren.How in heaven’s name had he known to comehere? Hastily she tied on her mask and worked at closing up the cloak’s frog fastenings to hide her shepherd’s costume.
A pounding began on the door. “Keane, you’d better open up! I want to talk to you!”
“Just stay calm, sweetheart,” Jeremy breathed. “He thinks you’re an actress. Keep quiet, and I’ll get us out of this.” Showing a remarkable presence of mind, he went to open the door. “What the devil, Knightford? You have no business—”
Warren pushed his way into the room, his gaze scanning it... and her. “You, Keane, have no business stealing... er... Miss Hardcastle from me. She and I have an agreement.” Warren stared hard at her, and she could fancy he saw right through her mask. “Don’t we, love?”
“You can’t have her,” Jeremy bit out. “Go back to your other wenches and leave her be.”
“She’s leaving with me,right now,” Warren said with a meaningful glance in her direction.
Oh no, he obviously knew who she was. And he would tell Edwin, if she didn’t stop him.
She headed for the door, but Jeremy caught her arm. “You’re not going anywhere with him.”
“Take it outside, gentlemen!” Mrs. Beard said. “I’m not having any disputes over a light-heeled wench who ain’t even one of my girls. Out, the three of you!”
This time, Yvette was glad to be ordered out. Warren mustn’t be allowed to talk to Edwin; she still hadn’t learned where Samuel’s boy was! But she didn’t dare ask more questions of Mrs. Beard, not with each man gripping an arm as if he’d carry her out if necessary.
None of them said a word until they were in the street. Then Warren spoke in a low voice. “My rig is around the corner. Yvette’s going with me, Keane.”
“The hell she is! Everyone will see your crest when you drive up to the damned ball, and they’ll know that you’ve been out alone with her. I’m not taking that chance.” Jeremy waved to their hackney driver, who scurried to bring the horses round. “She and I already had a plan, and we’ll stick to it.”
