Page 12 of Tempting the Bluestocking
These last words she said while gesturing about her study, indicating the books and the items he realized she must have taken the time to collect. He supposed it made sense that a woman so interested in intellectual pursuits would have no time to waste on carnal pursuits, especially given that her first experience had been unexceptional.
“But,” she said, with a fluid shrug of one shoulder. “She has convinced me that the problem was a matter of compatibility. According to her, I simply must try again with the right man, and she seems to believe that man is you. So…here I am, ready to give it another go.”
Edward was inclined to agree with Helene after their stimulating kiss. Joining Clare at the desk, he reached out to touch her, trailing his fingers from the sleeve of her gown, down the bare skin of her arm. She sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze darting up to meet his as gooseflesh rose up to abrade his fingertips.
“This man…your first lover. Did you feel a strong attraction toward him?”
Her mouth fell open, but words were not immediately forthcoming. She blinked a few times, shivering as he traced slow circles along the inside of her wrist and waited for her answer.
“W-well, he was handsome, as I said. He had—”
“And those porcelain figurines on your mantle are very beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in until that scent of lavender invaded his senses in a heady rush. “But I am notattractedto them. There’s a difference between admiring something in a shop window and wanting it to the point of being ready to empty your purse. Now, this man…did youwanthim, or was he simply a convenient means by which you could discover what making love was like?”
She seemed ready to offer a response, but then halted, snapping her mouth closed with a thoughtful frown. “You know, I’ve never thought of that way. I liked him well enough. I met him at a botany lecture being held in the home of a friend, and we struck up a rapport. I liked that he was as interested in the study of plants as I was. Mostly, I liked that he was not put off by a woman with thoughts and opinions of her own. But, I do not think I felt any sort of passion toward him. I simply knew he had an interest in me in a physical sense, and that he would be discreet.”
He shook his head, running his hand back up toward her neck, then taking a lock of her hair in his grasp. She stiffened, but made no attempt to move away, simply staring at him as he twirled the silken strands around his first finger.
“While I admire your initiative, I must say you went about it all wrong,” he declared. “Desire and compatibility are like any other science, you know. The correct variables must be achieved to assure the proper outcome. Surely a learned woman such as yourself must know this.”
Her eyes darkened as her pupils grew, turning the sapphire hue of her eyes to deep indigo. She seemed beyond words now, a tremor going through her as she moved her head in a stiff nod of affirmation.
“And you should know, your former lover and I have something in common. I, too, find a scholarly mind most stimulating. In fact, I think science to be a downright erotic past time. Shall I demonstrate?”
Before she could respond, he’d taken hold of her shoulders and turned her so that her back was to him. Smoothing both hands down her arms, he lowered his head and nuzzled the side of her neck, enjoying the way it made her shiver against him.
“We must determine the symptoms of a woman who is attracted to the man who wishes to take her to bed,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “First, a quickening of the pulse.”
Edward pressed his mouth against the vital vein in her throat, finding to his delight that her pulse fairly galloped against his lips. He nibbled the delectable column of her neck for a moment before humming his satisfaction against her skin.
“Then, there are the tremors,” he added. “They begin as very slight vibrations, before turning to full-fledged shivers that can overwhelm the entire body.”
She gasped when he kissed the back of her neck, flicking his tongue against the sensitive flesh just beneath her hairline. She shook as he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her as tight against him as possible.
“There are other signs of course, ones I can only determine if you’ll allow me to properly examine you.”
Her head fell against his shoulder, and she went completely pliant in his hold. His cock began a painful and rhythmic throb against the swell of her arse as he caressed his way down her chest—over her collarbone and down to the neckline of her gown. He spotted the lacy edge of a chemise as he dipped his hand inside, biting back a groan at the feel of a pert breast filling his grasp. She whimpered, arching her back and rasping the plump bud of her nipple against his palm. The nub furled tight when he gave her a squeeze, then hardened further when he tugged it gently between his thumb and forefinger.
“Taut nipples,” he rasped in her ear, steadily plying the tip of her breast until she began to pant. “Another sure sign.”
Continuing to play with the nipple at his fingertips, he slid his other hand down the side of her body and took hold of her skirts. She squirmed against him, agitating the erection rapidly swelling to full mast in his breeches. Slowly drawing her gown up, he found his way toward a stocking-clad leg and tracked a slow path upward. His mouth watered at the first tickle of downy curls against his fingers—curls he knew would be as black as the strands of hair tickling his jaw.
“Wet.” He sighed, dipping a finger between her lower lips to find her slick with want. “So, so wet.”
One of her hands fell against his thigh, her nails digging in as she seemed to fight for control. She was unraveling, going from cool and reserved to burning hot and he’d hardly touched her yet. Her first lover had been too dense to realize what had been right in front of him. This woman was made for passion; for wild, unbridled ecstasy that only needed the slightest stoking to rise to the surface. That she hadn’t enjoyed herself had been entirely his fault, not hers.
It took every ounce of his will to let her skirts fall and pull his hand free of her bodice before turning her to face him. He wanted to tear her clothes off and bend her over the nearest surface before sinking as deep into her as he could go, but he’d done all this to make a point, something he couldn’t lose sight of just yet.
Her eyes shined with an unfocused light, as if she were dizzy. Cupping her jaw, he brushed his thumb over her pouting lips, the scent of her arousal filling the air and striking him with a sudden desire to know how she would taste.
“I would say that based upon the exhibited symptoms, you are most certainly attracted to me, Clare,” he said, taking hold of her hand and pressing it flat against his chest. “And in case you wish to do your own examination…feel this. My heart is pounding, my pulse is racing…”
She swallowed, glancing to where he held her hand against his heart. “So it is.”
“And this.”
She let out a strangled sound of shock when he took that same hand and held it against the organ pressing desperately at the fall of his breeches. He resisted the urge to thrust against her hand and simply allowed her to feel the heat and hardness of him, certain that if she concentrated hard enough she might feel the pulse of blood making him feel as if he’d explode at any moment.
“I’ve been walking around like this since our kiss yesterday, and it shows no signs of going away until I’m inside you,” he said, holding her gaze as she closed her fingers over him, seeming more curious than anxious now—as if wanting to know more about the sort of pleasure the hard ridge of flesh could give her. “And now that we have the proper variables in place—you, me, and a rather potent attraction—we must test our hypothesis.”
