Page 22 of From London, With Love
He eased back on the daybed, slinging one arm along the back of it.
“I thought I was the one giving the orders,” she replied, though she was intrigued. This was a side to Gideon she’d never known existed.
Gentle, yes. But firm. Determined. He was the rock who never yielded. She should have guessed he’d take command in his own quiet manner.
“Not in here,” Gideon replied, his voice roughening just a little. “You make the rules, but I give the orders.”
Alexandra sipped the brandy that remained for her. A part of her liked the insolent way Gideon lounged against the chair, the way he tilted his face back to watch her, exposing his throat. She had never touched; only been touched. And her fingers itched to explore.
In the end, it was her decision, and her decision alone.
The silk of her skirts swished around her ankles as she slinked toward him. Tension betrayed itself in the tensing muscles of his thighs, and then slight creases that formed at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t move.
Barely even breathed.
Every step she took felt like she crossed a field strewn with explosives, until finally, finally, she stood before him.
“And now?” she whispered.
“Sit on my lap,” he said.
Queens didn’t perch on laps, she told him with a haughty arch of her brow.
“You’re not my queen right now,” he replied, “you’re just a woman. And I’m just a man.”
So be it. Sweeping her skirts out of the way, she perched herself gingerly on his thighs. Gideon’s fingers took the glass from her and rolled the cordial back and forth, his eyes dipping to her neckline, but he made no move to touch her.
How utterly vexing.
“Are you going to make me beg at every step of the way?” she demanded.
“I don’t intend to make you beg at all,” he promised, capturing the fingers of one hand between his. “I’m the supplicant here, Alexandra. Not you.”
“Then what—?”What next?It chafed her pride to be so at odds and ends here, uncertain of the next step and forced to rely upon his dictation.
Gideon seemed to understand.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, lifting her cordial to his lips and watching her.
The question flummoxed her.
“I want to kiss you again,” she whispered, for she quite liked kissing. As long as it was him. “And not that foolishness of a kiss you just gave me.”
He drained the glass and then set it aside. “Then kiss me. Do as you will.”
Alexandra leaned down, cupping her palm against his cheek and the burr of prickles there. She captured his mouth, sighing into the taste of him. Gideon arched his throat, eating at her mouth with slow, lazy strokes.
Their tongues lashed together, and a small moan escaped her.
Goodness.
Something pressed against her hip, hard and indignant. It took her a moment to realize what it was, and she jerked back in surprise.
“I won’t apologize for that,” he said stiffly. “I’m only a man, Alexandra. I can’t deny my attraction to you.”
“It’s not as though I’ve never encountered an erection before,” she replied tartly, squirming a little. “Though I will admit, never quite of this… substance.”
She glanced down curiously.
