Page 85 of His Wicked Charm

“You will hate me,” he murmured.

“I don’t think so.” Her hands went to the hem of his shirt, gathering the cloth and climbing upward.

When she reached his waist, she slipped her hands beneath the fabric. He jerked as if he’d been stung, and reached out to grasp the door frame on each side—he wasn’t sure whether it was to hold him back or to hold him up. He dropped his head, resting it against hers, drinking in the scent of her even as he struggled to retain the last remnant of his control.

“Think.” He made a final effort. “You’ll regret it.”

“I won’t.” Her hands glided over his ribs, circled his nipples. She went up on her toes, her mouth seeking his.

And Con was lost.

He seized her by the waist and pulled her into him, holding her hard and fast as his mouth consumed hers. All thought of codes of conduct, gentlemanly behavior, even honor, were swept aside by desire. He had to have her. And he would make damn sure she didn’t regret it.

Unwilling to let her go, Con lifted her and walked into the room, pushing the door closed with his foot. This time undressing was an easier task, with only their hastily donned clothes to whisk off. The first time Con had enjoyed seeing Lilah naked in the light of day, but the darkness now was seductive, entangling, heightening his senses. The sound of rain on the windows mingled with Lilah’s faint murmurs and moans, sweet and soft in his ears.

Her skin was like velvet beneath his fingertips. He wanted to linger over every inch, but he wanted even more to feel her beneath his lips. He ached with need, yet it was so sweet he savored it. The empty bed that had so alarmed him earlier was now an invitation, and he made his way to it, falling back upon it and taking her with him. He loved the weight of her body on his, the feel of her against him all the way up and down.

He slid his hands down her back, curving over her rounded bottom and her thighs. Slipping a hand between their bodies, Con edged his fingers between her legs and had the satisfaction of her opening to him. Her slick heat was enough to drive him mad, but wanting more, he rolled over onto his side and began a long, thorough exploration of her body.

Every muffled gasp, every moan, every movement of her body in response sent another shaft of desire spiraling through him, his hunger building and building until he thought he must explode. But still he held it leashed to have the pleasure of making love to her, the barbed thrill of watching her take what he gave her.

Lilah circled her hips, urging him on, and only then did he begin to hasten the movement of his fingers. He watched her, his own flesh tightening in response, as she arched up, pressing herself against his hand, then trembled as the pleasure took her.

She went limp all over and opened lambent eyes to gaze at him, her mouth curling in a satisfied way. She reached up and stroked his arm. “But...what about...you know, the rest of it? What about you?”

“Oh, we’ll get there, never fear.” He smiled. “We’re just taking the long way around.”

He kissed her lightly, his fingertips skimming over her, teasing at her breasts, her stomach, her legs. Soft as a feather, he slid his fingers up the inside of one leg, moving closer and closer to her core without touching it, then drifting back down her other thigh.

He kissed her mouth, long and thoroughly, before moving down over her neck and chest. He devoted extra time and care to her breasts, caressing and teasing, until her breath came short and sharp in her throat. His lips moved downward, over her ribs and onto her stomach, her abdomen. Lilah moved restlessly, murmuring his name, but still he lingered, opening her legs to kiss the insides of her thighs. Then, finally, his settled his mouth on her.

Lilah twitched and gasped. “Con! I... Ohhh.” She dug her hands into the sheet beneath her. Then it was a moaning “yes” that fell from her lips as pleasure rippled through her once again.

At last he parted her legs wider and moved between them, lifting her hips to receive him. He pushed into her slowly, watching the play of expressions across her face, savoring the sensation of her closing tight and hot around him. He thought he could stay here forever, but need drove him on. He thrust and retreated in an ageless rhythm, pumping harder, faster, as the pleasure gripped him. Everything inside him shattered, and a delight so wild, so deep, so intense that he could scarcely breathe, swept through him.

Con sank back onto the bed, breathless and beyond speech. Curling an arm around Lilah, he snuggled her close, nuzzling into her hair. He felt as if he’d been turned inside out. Tomorrow he might count himself a fool or the luckiest man on earth, he wasn’t sure. But right now, his whole world, his life, was here, wrapped in his arms.

* * *

LILAH WOKE UP, disoriented and groggy, as the bed moved beneath her. She rolled, snuggling into the warmth, and realized it was gone. She opened her eyes to see Con sitting up and turning away. There was little light to see him, but Lilah’s memory supplied the rest. She knew each curve of muscle, each line of bone. Indeed, she was certain she would know Con even if she could not see at all.

She reached out and laid her hand upon his back. He turned his head, sweeping his tangled hair back from his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right.” Lilah could not keep from caressing his back. “Are you leaving?”

“I must.” He dropped back down on his elbow, slipping his hand beneath the covers and spreading it out across her stomach. “Can’t have Cuddington coming in and finding me in your bed.”

“No.” Lilah giggled at the thought of her somber maid’s horrified face. “I suppose not.”

She curved her hand over his cheek, the bristle of his morning stubble prickly beneath her touch. She wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to snuggle into the warm bed, pulling the covers up over them to shield them from the world. But she had done that last night, and she couldn’t ask again.

She wondered what he thought, how he felt, if he regretted coming to her bed, if he still thought this a mistake. But she didn’t ask. No longer on the firm ground of the old rules, uncertain of the future, she had only what she had here and now. She would live only in the moment and say nothing to spoil it.

Con leaned down to kiss her, and when he raised his head, his eyes had a heavy, slumberous look. His hand glided over her stomach and up to cup her breast. He propped his head on his hand, gazing at her, as he caressed her skin. He looked about to speak, but instead he bent again and kissed her again.

Nuzzling into her hair, he murmured, “Tell me you don’t hate me, Lilah.”

“I don’t hate you, Con.” Lilah smiled to herself, sliding her hand up and down his arm lazily.