Page 33 of A Devilish Element
Time—she was giving him time. And whispering to him promises of a future. He could present to her who he truly was, make her understand that… That what, it didn’t make him a freak… an embarrassment… a scandal waiting to erupt? He was all those things.
“I have shocked you,” she said, bringing him out of his mind and back into the present. They were stood practically chin to shoulder, his hands around her waist, hers resting lightly on his shoulders. “Perhaps you don’t believe a woman should allow herself the same pleasures as are readily afforded to men. We should be chaste, goodly… entirely pure.”
“No.” He pulled her closer. “I’m honoured that you seek to ask those things of me.”
“Truly?”
This was foolish, but there was no helping it. In no version of life that he’d ever choose would he walk away from this moment or her and leave her imagining he didn’t want what was offered.
He wanted it so badly; he could taste it in the air.
“Goddammit, Eliza!” He crushed his lips to hers, swaddling her in a fast embrace. He kissed her as he’d dreamed of doing on oh so many nights. Those moments at Lauwine Hall had been so fleeting. The three of them tied in knots none of them dared unpick for fear of finding they were the one holding the end of a different rope.
“I’ve thought so many times about that day.”
“Likewise, so many times.” Not purely of her, but of Joshua too. Of how it’d made him feel to watch the two of them kiss. The answer was surprisingly complex. Jealous, for certain, but more troubling things too. Desire, coupled with thoughts about what the three of them might do together.
He’d learned just hours before that moment that the lords Pennerley and Marlinscar were engaged in a triadic relationship with Joshua’s sister, so naturally such possibilities had loomed large in his thoughts. He knew now, having witnessed Joshua’s actions later that day—he’d put that shot in Pennerley’s leg—that Joshua would never consent to such an arrangement with Jem or any other man.
Yet another reason kissing her was foolish. Still, he couldn’t stop himself.
Her mouth was a revelation. Her touch seared his skin. She was demanding, yielding, soft but fierce. Her hands tucked under his waistcoat seeking skin. He explored the curve of her throat, the shell of her ear, the firm weight of her cherubic behind. She made him stiff with her inexperienced but eager caresses.
The pictures in his mind were all of raising her onto the table, of lifting her skirts and exposing her stocking tops, of then exploring the soft stretch above her garters, of dipping fingers, tongue into the split between her thighs… and maybe, maybe burying himself there.
But she was ahead of him in some regards, eager not just to be led, but to quest ahead. When she set about slipping the buttons of his breeches, his heart grew so big the sound of it echoed in his ears and simultaneously pulsed heat into his cock.
“You’ve grown stiff,” she muttered. “I’ve only ever seen a man’s member limp. Does it hurt?”
“Only in the best way.” She pushed her hand inside the cloth and cupped him. The thrill of it stole the last of his shredded restraint.
“Eliza,” he breathed. “Have a care.”
“I don’t know what to do to please you,” she confessed into his ear.
“Yet you’re managing just fine.” He kissed down the side of her throat to the hollow at its base, then all along her collarbone, and the square edging of her dress. The top of her bosom was firm but soft; he flicked his tongue between the fabric and her skin, seeking her nipple. Found it. Claimed it, sucked it into a steepled peak and heard her crow of pleasure in response.
“Show me how I should pleasure you,” she demanded, while her kiss followed a similar route to the one he’d just traversed, concentrating on the juncture of his throat and collarbone. She did that simply by being a presence in his world, but he acknowledged the plea in her voice, that part of her that always sought to learn, to discover, to unravel… “Like this.”
He guided her hand, showed her how to ring her fingers around his shaft, then guided her motion. Up to the crown, twist, then down. She grazed the tip of his cock with her palm and his breath left his body in an excited hiss. “Yes. Exactly like that. Exactly.”
“You feel so solid, yet so smooth. I like holding you, Jem.”
He might have said something eloquent about how much he liked being held, but his lips were busy, and he was already weeping pearls for her. She kissed him again, sucking on that same, now rather sensitive spot.
“I want to look.” She lifted her hand and tasted the silken fluid he’d spilled there, causing a lightning strike of arousal to hit him. Many’s the man and woman who could learn something from her. Jem lifted his shirt tails, expecting her to glance down, drink her fill and be done. Instead, she bent, bringing her nose down level with the wiry bush at his base.
Her eyes gleamed as she peeped up at him, her tongue running along the edge of her teeth. “Might I taste you?”
Taste him!
What was this alternate realm he’d fallen into? His cock bucked hard at the notion. “I think you mean to kill me,” he said, his voice reedy.
“Is that a usual response to having one’s prick”—she quirked a brow, querying the term—“kissed?”
He would certainly die a little death. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he croaked.
Eliza dropped onto her knees. She peeped up at him along the length of his body. “I think you’d like nothing more.”
