Page 51 of A Devilish Element
“Jem, you’re practically his social equal.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “Sorry! Hardly. Eliza, he’s the son of a peer. I’m the orphaned nephew of a minor baron. I told you earlier, I’m a dreadful prospect.”
“You did.” She fingered the silk of his cravat. “And I told you I’m not looking for a husband.” She lifted onto her toes then, while also pulling him down to her and brushed a kiss to his lips.
“That you did.”
“Why would I want to be pinned down?”
“Hm,” he mused, and fastened his hands around her wrists. “Why indeed?” With no effort at all he edged her backward into the wall, where he held her trapped, with her wrists raised to either side of her head. “I mean, there’s nothing fun about that at all. Nothing distracting, or inspirational.” His breath buffeted her cheek as he bent his head while holding her gaze. His lips skimmed shy of her mouth then down the side of her neck to the hollow at its base. “No, you definitely wouldn’t want to be pinned in place by a man. Teased… Tormented… Think how appalling it would be if he kissed you.” His lips grazed her skin, sending prickles of excitement flowing out from that point of contact. “Stole not one kiss, but two… Took certain liberties with one’s clothing.” He drew the pin holding her dress front at the shoulder from the fabric with his teeth and dropped it to the floor. Then did the same to the other shoulder. Beneath, the two sides of the dress fastened with a simple drawstring. Below it, she wore only a chemise and simple waist petticoat.
“Jem!”
He kissed the top of her right breast.
“What are you doing?”
“Pinning you down. Playing the rake. Don’t tell me you’ve never attended a ball and wondered what it would be like to feel lips on your skin… a hand beneath your skirt. Your sisters, your brother, the other guests… they’re only a few steps away. We could be caught at any time. There’s just a simple door between us and scandal.”
That was more or less true of their current situation. If Jane woke… If Linfield returned and demanded entry.
“Tell me to behave and I will. Or don’t…” His grin grew as salacious as it was broad. “Please don’t.”
“Jem,” she returned, nervousness making her own smile extra wide. “I don’t… I don’t want you to stop. Please, don’t stop!”
The touch of one person’s lips to another’s oughtn’t to be so distracting. It chased intelligent thoughts from her head, trapping her in a world of sensations, where all that mattered was the next touch, and the next. She strained against his grasp, but he wouldn’t release her. His fingers curled against the pulse points in her wrists. She could hear the thunder of her own blood in her ears.
“Are you going to be a good girl if I release you?”
“What are you going to do?”
He tugged open the bow resting between her breasts. Her chemise was of the drawstring variety too and opened just as easily. The tip of his tongue touched her skin, making her gasp. Then his mouth closed over her nipple.
Mr Darwin’s book hadn’t included any mention of the pleasure of having a man’s mouth wrapped around one’s nipple. It stole her voice. Made her blood sing. Heaviness pooled between her thighs. It was the sort of ache that made her lean into his heat and made her disobedient. Instead of keeping her hands where he’d set them, she tangled her fingers in his hair and held him in place against her breast.
Damn, that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Better than syllabub, or the feel of the sun on her face. Better than sagging into a chair after a long hard day, tired but relieved to have survived all that had been thrown at her. Even better than having him fill her mouth earlier.
“Jem,” she cried, not wanting him to stop, but simultaneously seeking to lift him to her.
“Eliza… I… still… think I… owe you a favour… or two.” He punctuated his words with movement, each subsequent kiss alighting on a different part of her body. It shocked her when he planted the last of them on her bare thigh above the garter holding her stockings up. He’d bunched her petticoat and dress. “You gave me something precious earlier. I’ve been thinking all afternoon about returning the favour.”
His attention slid further up her thigh.
“I wonder, Eliza, are you as familiar with this concept as you were with fellatio? It has a Latin name too.”
“I’ve heard the term,” she squeaked, sounding far more girlish and innocent than she normally did.
“Ah, so it’s a thrill you’ve yet to enjoy.”
“I don’t raise my skirts for any old fool.”
“Just for this one,” he muttered, but he looked up at her, and his eyes were shiny even in the gloom. “I can smell you, and it’s damn near driving me insane. I’m going to lick you. I’m going to taste the split of your pussy. Fuck you with my tongue.”
“Is that—”
“It’s safer than the alternative.”
“But what if I want the alternative? If it’s your prick I want, not your mouth, or your fingers. What if that’s what I want to feel?”
