Page 48 of A Winter Scandal

The smile warmed Gabriel’s dark eyes before it touched his lips. “Whenever I am certain that I know you, you surprise me yet again.”

“I surprise you because I express sympathy for you?” Thea asked teasingly. “Am I such a shrew the rest of the time?”

“Not a shrew. I’d say … a warrior, perhaps. A Boadicea, wielding your candlestick as you guard your fallen and less capable soldier.”

Thea could not help but laugh at his description. “Boadicea? Now I fear that you must have suffered a blow to the head when you and Lord Rawdon fought. I hardly think I qualify as a warrior queen.”

“Oh, but you do. You are all strength—rescuing abandoned children, facing down the wicked, saving those of us who have strayed from the path.”

He smiled at her, and Thea could not look away from his well-formed mouth. His upper lip was sharply defined, the bottom one fuller and softer. She remembered well the way they had felt upon her own lips, soft and almost velvety, yet firm as they sank into her. She was aware of how much she would like to feel his mouth on hers again, and unconsciously her lips parted a little.

Something flared in his eyes, and he straightened. He raised her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against her skin. Thea’s heart fluttered, and she feared that he must see the sudden frantic beating of her pulse in her throat. He turned her hand over and laid another kiss in her palm. A tremor ran through her. She had never known the warmth that flooded her now, that swept over her whenever he touched her or looked at her in that dark, languorous way. She wanted him to kiss her, to put his hands on her as he had the other day.

And as if he knew her very thoughts, he slid his arms around her, settling her into his body, and bent to take her mouth with his.

Ten

As it did whenever Gabriel kissed her, the world seemed to spin away from Thea, leaving her breathless and clinging to him. The taste of his mouth was darkly intoxicating, at once sweet and heady. The yeasty odor of ale still clung to him, mingling in her nostrils with the warm scent of his body and the spicy hint of cologne. Her hands slipped up and over his shoulders. Thea was amazed at her own boldness. She had daydreamed many times over the past few days about how Gabriel’s hair would feel upon her skin, and she indulged her curiosity now, sinking her hands into the thick, silky mass. The strands twined and curled around her fingers.

His breath shuddered against her cheek as he lifted his head to change the angle of their kiss. He swept his hands down to cup her buttocks, pressing her up into him, and she felt the swift surge of his passion against her body. His skin was suddenly flaming as he turned her, and moving back blindly, she came up against the low bookcase. He lifted her onto the bookcase, stepping in between her legs so that his body was flush against her, only their clothes separating them.

Thea would not have thought the fire in her veins could have flared any hotter, but it did so now, flashing through her and centering in the ache between her legs. She wanted to squeeze her legs together against the sudden, insistent hunger, but she could not because Gabriel stood between them. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, seeking ease. He jerked, making a noise low in his throat, and ground his body into hers. His mouth consumed hers, drinking her in even as it filled her. He moved his hands up her sides, cupping her breasts in his long, supple fingers. Thea shivered, startled by the intimate touch and equally surprised by her reaction.

Her breasts were full and aching, the nipples suddenly hard. His thumbs brushed over them, lightly abrading them with the soft cloth of her dress. He continued to play with her nipples through the fabric, gently pulling and rubbing, and with each movement, the ache inside Thea grew stronger and more demanding. Even as she thrilled to the sensations Gabriel was creating in her, she wanted something more.

He slipped his hands over her breasts and delved down inside, pushing aside the modest fichu and dragging down the neckline of her dress and chemise beneath. She could feel the cool air on her breasts as they were exposed, and the hard central buds tightened even more. Gabriel pulled his mouth from hers. His eyes were blazing, his face flushed and heavy with desire as he gazed down at her breasts in his hands.

“Beautiful. You are so beautiful.”

He bent and brushed his lips over the trembling soft top of one breast, and Thea let out a choked sound of pleasure. She could feel his lips curve in a smile against her skin, and then, amazing her yet again, he traced the tip of his tongue in lazy circles across the sensitive flesh. Thea jerked and squeezed her legs more tightly around him. With a soft groan, Gabriel took her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle.

Thea leaned her head back against the wall, lost in the pleasurable sensations running through her. One of his hands slid down her body, skimming over her side and waist and down onto her legs. His fingers slipped beneath her dress and petticoats, inching upward over her leg. His touch seared her even through the cloth of her pantalets as his hand moved from the outside of her leg over her knee and onto the soft line of her inner thigh. He lifted his mouth from her breast, ending the bone-melting things he was doing to her there, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. His breath sounded in her ear, harsh and rasping, as he softly kissed the sensitive flesh of her neck, teasing her with lips and teeth and tongue.

His fingers meanwhile crept ever closer to the hot, moist center of her passion. She could not move away, for she was pressed too tightly against the unyielding wall, but Thea knew that she had no desire to move, anyway. If she shifted her body, it would be simply because it was becoming harder and harder to keep still under the exploration of his hand.

Then his thumb was on her, pressing through the damp cloth of her undergarments and touching the swollen, aching point in which all the sensations besieging her seemed to gather. She gasped. It was outrageous … wicked … appalling … and unbelievably pleasurable. Thea could not hold back a whimper as she moved beneath his caress, squirming and lifting. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, embarrassed at the way moisture flooded her, knowing he must feel it and sure that this must prove her overriding wantonness, yet reveling in the pleasure, too, and aching to feel even more.

Gabriel obliged her, stroking his thumb against her, light as a feather. She could not hold back the noises that rose from her throat, soft moans that seemed to be pulled from her. Her head rolled against the wall as her hips began to move in time with the rhythm of his stroking thumb. Thea heard his own harsh breaths, felt the heat and tension that permeated his body, and she knew she was not alone in this maelstrom of passion.

Something coiled and twisted inside her, building and building until it was as if she were running, straining to reach it even though she had no idea what it was. Amazingly, pleasure exploded deep in her abdomen, and she cried out, clapping her hand over her mouth to still the sound. But nothing could stop the heat that rushed through her, the pleasure that pounded in waves to the outermost reaches of her body.

He braced his arms on either side of her against the wall, struggling to control his breath, his body taut as a bowstring. “Thea …” Her name escaped his lips—she wasn’t sure whether as a prayer or a curse.

Thea sagged limply against the wall, floating in the warm, buoyant sea of pleasure. She was not sure if she would be able to stand, or even move at all. Her legs were like jelly. But at the moment, she could not bring herself to care.

Gabriel moved away from her, and she felt the loss of his heat and bulk. She roused herself as best she could, opening her eyes and saying, “Gabriel? Are you—am I—” She realized that she had no idea what to say.

He was at the window, turned away from her and staring out, one arm raised to lean against the wall. He shook his head. “Just give me a moment. I must think, for just a bit, of—well, of anything but you.”

It occurred to her, horrifyingly, that he was angry with her, displeased, that this flood of passion that had stormed through her had not touched him at all. Even worse, what if he had been disgusted by the exhibition of her base desires? Thea sucked in her breath, her hand flying to her mouth and tears starting in her eyes. She slipped off her perch and found that she could stand, after all, though her knees seemed amazingly weak. She shook her dress and petticoats down, smoothing and tucking and rearranging until everything was once again in modest order … though she rather doubted that inside her anything would ever be in order again. She did not understand how she could feel so wonderfully good and at the same time so scared and embarrassed. Her body had become a stranger to her, a delightful, perplexing, maddening stranger.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I should go.”

He whirled to face her. “No! I mean, yes, perhaps you should go. But don’t be sorry.” His voice was low, but sharp and hard. He came over to grasp her arms and leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “There is nothing to feel sorry about. You are … a delight.” He kissed her forehead softly, carefully, then released her and moved away again. “But right now it is very hard for me to remember that I am a gentleman. Or, at least, pretending that I am one.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Perhaps I should go look at the rest of the wing.”

He smiled faintly. “That would be an excellent idea.”