Page 58 of Making of a Scandal
Dominick frowned, watching as another tear escaped the corner of her eye, then another. “Are you afraid ofme, Callie?”
She let out a choked sound, a sob she had tried to stifle but failed. “I amterrifiedof you, ofthis. I told myself I would be practical, that it was useless to let myself think I could have love and passion and … and I thought I no longer wanted it. I’m not a girl anymore. The other men who made me feel as if I wasn’t worth the honor of their names or titles meant little to me. I could carry on once the initial shock and anger of it had passed. But you … you would destroy me, and I cannot risk that.”
Dominick’s chest ached at the pain he heard in her voice and the truth of it all radiating from her gaze. It made him want to hunt down every man who had ever tried to use and discard her and make them pay. It made him want to do whatever it took to make her forget about them all. Only, he knew all-too well how such disappointment could leave a lasting impression. He’d never been jilted in a romantic sense, but hehadopened himself to the possibility of doing and being something more, only to have door after door slammed in his face. He knew what it was to give up because everyone around him had made it clear they didn’t believe his efforts would ever amount to anything.
He strummed his knuckles along her cheek, finding more tears. “I’m afraid too. Do you know how difficult it is for me to tell you how I feel, knowing I stand no chance against Lewes, knowing I may never be good enough for you but still wanting to be? But, I’m here and I refuse to pretend watching you marry him will not tear me apart. I understand your fear, but I need you to understand that you don’t have to feel that fear alone.”
She trembled in his hold, but did not pull away when he rested his hand lightly on the back of her neck, urging her closer. She closed her eyes and another tear fell, but the tension left her body as she sank into him.
He pressed his lips to her with the barest of pressure, and her mouth opened beneath the touch of his, a soft, desperate mewl escaping when his tongue sought hers.
“Shh … it’s all right,” he whispered, kissing her nose, her brow, then her mouth again, surging deeper this time. “I just want … just let me, Callie … let me show you how badly I want you. God, how I want you.”
Her forehead pressed against his as she leaned in, but reticence still stiffened her spine. “We can’t … I have to think of my future. If we do something we cannot take back—”
“I promise you, we won’t. Can you trust me with that much at least?”
Eyes squeezing shut, she nodded her acquiescence. He fell on her, freed by her tentative surrender. He didn’t care that she might be missed, or even that someone might realize they’d both gone missing at the same time. Nothing mattered but the woman in his arms, clinging to his shoulders as he lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the nearest piece of furniture.
The settee was plush and soft at his back, Calliope a pleasant weight across his thighs. She stiffened when he spread her legs on either side of his, hitching her skirts up past her knees. But, he went on kissing her, soothing her with nonsensical murmurs meant to reassure her. He stroked up her legs, past the edges of her stockings and garters, his palms skimming soft, bare skin.
“Stop thinking,” he urged, nuzzling at her bodice as his hands left her thighs and traveled up her rigid back, flicking buttons loose along the way. “Just this once, just for now, let go and simply feel.”
She met his gentle command with wordless submission, accepting the kisses he trailed down her neck. Her bodice sagged, her stays loosening as he pulled at the laces. His hands shook as he reached up to peel the layers down, just far enough to uncover the flesh he longed to see, taste, and touch—but not enough that he’d be tempted to undress her completely. There was no time for that, but he would accept what he could have of her for now.
He groaned as her breasts fell free of her chemise, high and firm and tipped in the richest shade of dark brown. Unable to help himself, he latched onto one without preamble—no tentative touch or soothing licks to ease her in. It was too much, her straddling him, half-undressed, and finally his for the taking. She issued a strangled cry as he suckled and flicked at her nipple with his tongue, her hips pressing tighter against his with the arch of her back. He couldn’t help but watch her as he feasted on first one breast, then the other, hypnotized by the graceful arch of her neck and sumptuous display of her parted lips. She gasped and panted her pleasure, the sounds heavy with shock and awe.
Cupping the soft mounds, he pressed them upward, his busy tongue laving across both at once, back and forth, circling and teasing. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she held him to her, watching him as if hypnotized by the sight of his face buried in the plush offering of her bosom. He lightly pinched the tips between thumbs and forefingers, delighting in her startled gasp, followed by a powerful shudder and a helpless whimper. He did it again, a little harder this time, and soaked in the shrill sound she made, so wild and wanton.
“Yes,” he crooned, cupping her face and smoothing his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. “That’s it, love. Let me pleasure you.”
“Yes, Nick,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please.”
He accepted her fiery kiss, sitting up to let her help him peel his coat away and toss it aside. Then, he was lifting her, turning her so she lay across the settee, gown and underpinnings fallen to trap her arms at her sides, skirts pushed to her hips. She seemed heedless to her indecent state, her eyes unfocused and glazed as he settled over her, gripping one knee to hitch it upward and open her.
“Nick!” she exclaimed when he pushed her skirts higher, baring her below the waist.
She had gone rigid beneath him, eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment … but he lost his hold on coherent thought the moment his gaze lowered to the black, silken thatch between her legs and the glimpse of pink flesh glistening with her arousal. His cock throbbed with agonizing insistence, his mouth watering at the heady scent of her.
Calliope writhed beneath him, trying to close her legs but finding the way impeded by his body wedged between them. He palmed her thighs, pressing his thumbs against the taut tendons stroking as he met her gaze.
“There is no shame in this, goddess,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the dainty point of her chin. “Don’t hide yourself from me. Yes, that’s good … relax.”
Her thighs eased open as he went on kneading and stroking, working his slow way up. He stopped short of touching her, his hands braced just on the edges of her lower lips, his thumb hovering over the swollen protrusion of her clit.
She bit her lip, breasts heaving as she held her breath in anticipation, thighs quivering. He licked her nipple, holding her gaze as he let his thumb whisper ever so lightly over her swollen nub, drawing a soft gasp from between her lips.
“Do you want me to touch you here, stroke you and tease you until you spend?”
Her head jerked in a nod, but it wasn’t enough for Nick. As badly as he wanted this, he had to be sure she wanted it, too.
“Say it, love,” he urged, his thumb whispering down her slit and circling the taut opening. “Tell me you want me to play with this pretty cunny.”
Her eyes widened as if his words shocked her, but he saw the glint of primal longing in the depths, the spark of something in her that responded to his wickedness. It made him want to push her, peel back her layers to explore the parts of her yet to be discovered and expose them to the light of day. It made him want to debauch her until she was as wicked as he.
“I’m waiting,” he taunted, pressing against her clit and making her eyes roll back into her head. “‘Touch me, Nick,’” he prompted.
Her legs spread wider, hips raising in invitation as she repeated, “Touch me, Nick.”
