Page 57 of Making of a Scandal
What he’d meant to be a brief meeting of lips transformed into something else entirely. When she opened her mouth to him, her sweet tongue darting against his lower lip, he broke, all his good intentions falling away until he was left with nothing but the need to utterly possess her.
He deepened the kiss, sealing his mouth over hers and plunging with his tongue, tasting, teasing, claiming. She met him with equal fervor, whimpering against his lips and giving in to his assault. He grasped her arms and slung them up around his neck, and she obeyed his silent command, fingers tangled in his hair so tight his scalp stung. Then, he was caressing his way down her body, his touch skimming her arms, her ribs, her waist, the flare of her hips.
She wrenched her mouth away from his with a sharp cry, but he merely went on kissing her, nibbling his way down her cheek, along her jaw, down the slender column of her throat. Her pulse galloped against his tongue, and she sobbed when he latched on, drunk on the taste of her skin.
“Dominick,” she cried, hands holding fast to his head. “Please … I can’t.”
“You can,” he countered, nuzzling his way downward, clenching at her fichu with his teeth and yanking it free of her bodice, sending pins scattering to the floor. “You’re killing me, goddess. Every time you give him your smiles, your laughter, even so much as your hand touching his … I die a little bit more.”
Her fichu fell away, leaving soft mounds of golden flesh bare above her neckline. He’d gone mad, his knees weakening at nothing more than the sight of the tops of her breasts. He had seen countless women naked, had helped himself to the charms of so many he’d lost count. He’d experienced just about every pleasure there was to be had, from the tamest to the filthiest … and still, none of it compared to being allowed these tiny glimpses of her—her exposed throat, the wings of her collarbone, the swells of flesh at her neckline. If he ever managed to get her nude, Nick wasn’t certain he would survive it.
He literally ached for her, his cock painfully hard, his entire body wound so taut he feared a single touch would cause him to spontaneously combust.
Calliope gripped his shoulders, squirming and twisting away from him.
“If you are so desperate, why not take what Lady Thrush is so readily offering,” she snapped as he stepped away from her, albeit reluctantly. “I’m certain she, like every other woman you’ve ever looked at, would be more than happy to spread her legs for you.”
Nick pinched his lips, his shoulders trembling with the laughter he struggled to contain. “I don’t want Lady Thrush, or anyone else. Why do you think I’m here with you?”
“Because I am paying you to be, though I am not certain why when you’ve spent the last three days letting thatwomanfawn all over you!”
Now he really was amused. Leaning against the back of a sofa, he crossed his arms over his chest and observed her. He’d never seen her in such a state, magnificent in her anger. She was all vengeance and rage, looking as if she would strike the other woman down with nothing more than a glare if she were able.
“Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you might have noticed that I’ve done nothing to encourage her. But if my attentions as your courtesan have been lacking, I am more than happy to remedy that.”
She went still, jaw dropping and brow furrowing as if she’d just come to a realization. “Oh, my God. I didn’t realize it until just now, but it makes perfect sense. Lady Thrush … the two of you … she was your …”
“My keeper, yes … years ago. There is no need to be jealous, Callie. It’s you I want, not her.”
“Is that supposed to be some sort of compliment? Do you suppose that means anything coming from a man like you?”
“What kind of man is that, exactly?”
A pained expression marred her features, making him want to kiss it away. “One who revels in giving away his attentions as easily as he does his smiles. One who would find his way into any woman’s bed for the right price, but who would have me believe he somehow sees me as different than all the rest!”
She’d ambled closer during her tirade, near enough for him to yank her closer. She fell into him as he pressed her hand flat against his chest and held it there, forcing her to feel the rapid beat of his heart, the yearning vibrations that had rattled him to his very soul.
“My body might have been for sale, but it is the only part of myself I ever gave to any of them. Surely that isn’t so difficult for you to understand, hating me as much as you do, yet still finding it in yourself to feel lust for me.”
Her shoulders slumped and the fight went out of her as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her close.
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered. “Most times, I think I even like you. But, I …”
She tipped her head back to look at him. He intertwined their fingers and brought their joined hands up to his lips. She sighed when his mouth brushed her knuckles, eyes growing heavy-lidded as her resistance began to wane.
“I’ve never felt this way. I’ve lived the way I do because no one ever made me believe I could be any better. But you’ve made me want to be, if for no other reason than the need to be worthy of even a shred of your affection. This isn’t about lust, Callie. If it was, I could have found some way to move on. I could have found someone else to satisfy my baser needs. But, what I feel for you isn’t so base or simple that it could ever be compared to the cheap, meaningless transactions I have conducted with others.”
Her fingers tightened around his and tears filled her eyes, bringing amber and honeyed tones alive in the deep prisms of brown. Chin trembling and chest heaving, she lowered her gaze as if afraid to go on looking at him.
“I want to believe you,” she murmured, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. “I want to let myself feel all the things I’ve been fighting since the moment I met you, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You have no idea what it would cost me to give in only to find out that none of it was real. I’ve felt that pain far too many times, and I cannot bear it again.”
“So, you would rather choose the safer man.”
“Don’t you dare judge me for wanting to feel secure. Martin may not be the most romantic man, he may not make me feel the things you do, but he and I want the same things. If I choose him, I’ll have a respectable life, and children—a family! If I choose him, I know how this will end, and I don’t have to be afraid.”
