Page 96 of To Hunt the Hunter

“Mmmmm,” was all she could manage by way of reply, and he chuckled.

“I took you for a walk about the house. I intended to seduce you that night, may God forgive me. I was so desperate for you, out of my mind with jealousy whenever you danced with another man.”

She laughed at that. “You could have fooled me.”

“No, I couldn’t. You knew it soon enough, once we were trapped behind those curtains. And you loved it, didn’t you, my wicked angel?”

He pressed closer and the hard length of him burned hot against her even through his clothes. Just like that night, when she had felt the evidence of his desire for her for the first time.

The blush burned her cheeks. She was unable to deny it. She had loved it. The sounds of another couple’s lovemaking and Lucian’s arm about her waist, holding her close, trapping them in the darkness, had been the most erotic thing she’d ever known. Not that she’d had much experience of such things, though she suspected that was about to change.

“Answer the question, Matilda.”

“Yes,” she said, as one lazy hand caressed her breast, tweaking the nipple until she gasped, the other still occupied between her thighs, slowly driving her out of her mind. “I loved it.”

“You wanted me too,” he murmured. “You told me no, but you didn’t want me to stop. Did you?”

She shook her head, but that did not satisfy him.

“Tell me.”

“No,” she said, the word breathless as desire made her giddy, her knees weak. “I wanted you to touch me.”

“How? How did you want it?”

“Like this. I wanted your hands, your mouth, I wanted you to touch me, to make me cry out with pleasure like the woman on the other side of the curtains.”

He groaned and slid a finger inside of her. Matilda cried out as the pleasure of it broke over her, her body clenching around him as he drove her higher. Helpless in the crisis' wake, she was relieved when Lucian swept her up before her knees gave out entirely. He carried her to the bed, laying her down.

Matilda collapsed against the soft counterpane, her body pliant, limbs cast wide in abandon. How wanton she must appear, not that she cared… until she saw the look in his eyes, the hunger there. Then she cared, and she loved it.

“You were jealous,” she said happily, gazing up at him as he slowly stripped off his coat, casting it aside, and his long, elegant fingers undid the buttons on his waistcoat.

“I was. Madly jealous,” he agreed, his voice dark.

“You wanted me.”

“More than I have ever wanted anything. I thought I would die when you told me no.”

“Did you think of that night often?” she asked, feeling the curve of a decadent smile move over her lips.

He laughed then, low and wicked. “Oh, that pleases you, my lady. Yes. Yes, I thought of it often, though in my dreams you never denied me. Such depraved things you did. You gave me everything I asked, and more.”

“Then I shall make it up to you,” she said, opening her legs wider, a shameless invitation.

His hands stilled, his gaze riveted upon her, his breathing harsh.

“Yes,” he said. “You will.”

A thrill of excitement shivered over her. She watched as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes, taking his time, deliberately, the beast.

“Lucian.”

She spoke his name like a plea, a complaint, an urge for him to hurry. He ignored it, moving closer to the bed, his cravat held loosely in one hand, the other reaching out to draw lazy circles over her skin, until she shivered.

“Please,” she said.

“I love you.”