“I—I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to bite—”
“Don’t apologise, my sweet. I want to feast on you too. Every inch of you.”
Her eyes widened, but she did not seem appalled by his suggestion. “I don’t—I’ve never…” She licked her lips nervously, and the sight of her wet mouth made the blood pound harder in his loins.
She’d never experienced such an explosion of desire, he conjectured. Never felt such primitive lust. Well, neither had he, despite his former experience. This was something new, something altogether different, for both of them.
“Yes,” he murmured against her mouth. “I understand. This is unfamiliar for me too.”
This time the heat of his kiss flared even higher. She didn’t shrink away but wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Spurred on, he slipped his hand down her back, following the contours of her spine until he reached her bottom, where he squeezed her flesh through her skirts. She let out a miniscule squeak against his lips as her buttocks perked in delightful fashion beneath his greedy grip. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand lifted the hem of her skirts and sought out her leg. A rounded knee was the first thing he encountered. He smoothed his hand northwards over her cotton drawers and closed his palm around the firm mound of her derriere. The heat of her flesh radiated through the thin material like fire.
“Nellie, sweet Nellie. You are Venus come to tempt me sorely.”
Though lust hazed his brain, he hung on to the remnants of his self-control. Nellie was not her usual self, understandable after the events of the night, and he had to be mindful of this though she clung to him and kissed him with wild abandon. He had to maintain command of the situation. But even as he thought this, his exploration of her bottom drew his hand to the cleft between her buttocks, and to his enchantment he discovered her drawers were of the open-crotch variety. Without pause, his fingers slipped involuntarily through the opening and sought out the sweet moistness between her thighs.
Nellie exclaimed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she first tensed then slowly relaxed against him. Heat shot through him as he caressed her slick folds. He could no more stop himself as fly through the air. Indeed, his heart hammered so hard he feared his ribs would burst. He felt as though he were drowning in her melting, dizzying temptation. Moaning softly, she shifted her legs, rubbing herself against his urgent fingers. Sweet lover mine. How ravishing she looked with her head thrown back, her hair wild and her breasts heaving.
His gaze flickered to the stairs leading up to the hayloft. It would take a matter of seconds to get her upstairs, and once up there they would tear off their clothes, and she would recline naked on a pile of hay and spread her thighs wide. His crotch swelled even harder, the urge for release biting at him. His hand tightened on her bare thigh; he could practically feel himself thrusting into her.
Then his gaze fell upon her dazed and trusting face, and shame pricked him. Good God, Nellie was special and precious to him. She was no amiable tart to be carelessly tumbled in the stable. She deserved rubies and emeralds, the stars and the moon, everything her heart desired and more. And he wanted more, too. More than a befuddled coupling at midnight, he wanted her trust and regard, and groping at her like a lust-addled satyr was no way to win her esteem.
Slowly he withdrew his hand from her legs. He straightened her ruffled skirts and buttoned her jacket, all the while trying to ignore his baying, boiling need.
“Julian?” Nellie asked, her voice shaky. “What… Is something amiss?”
“Yes.” His hands shook as he smoothed her curls. The lure of her red mouth was almost too much. “I should not have fondled you like that. It was uncouth and brutish.”
Her mouth formed an O of astonishment. “You didn’t enjoy it?”
“Of course I enjoyed it!” To curb his frustration, he turned back to the horses and snatched up the forgotten pail. “I enjoyed it too much, that is the problem.”
He marched to the pump in the corner and filled the pail. When he returned to his mare, Nellie was still standing there, her fingers twisted together. “Julian, I am as much to blame as you.”
Blame. Why did she have to put it like that? “Look, why don’t we forget it happened? Least said, soonest mended.”
“Is that what you want to do? Forget it?”
Scowling, he dumped the water pail in front of his mare. “I don’t want to forget it, but for now it’s probably best, what with all your…dilemmas.”
She fingered the loose ends of her hair for a while. “I suppose you are right. While I’m all at sea, it would not be fair to you.”
“I don’t give a fig about fairness.” He grabbed a couple of blankets and threw them over the horses. “And I make no bones that I’d like you in my bed, but if that does happen, I want it to be your conscious, measured decision, not a temporary lack of judgement.”
“You—you make it sound so dispassionate.”
“Don’t worry. If the time comes, I’ll have plenty of passion to show.”
He turned his back on her, as there were limits to his self-control, and he was beginning to regret not taking her by the hand and leading her up to the hayloft. If it weren’t for his damned principles, by now they would both be buck naked and he’d be in seventh heaven.
He busied himself securing the blankets. When he looked up, Nellie had disappeared, leaving behind only a tantalising trace of her scent. He uttered a curse under his breath, and his mare whickered in response.
“At least you will be sleeping comfortable tonight,” he muttered into her ears.
The freshly lit fire gave off a flickering illumination over Julian’s bedroom. The air was growing warm, but beneath the crisp sheets goose bumps dappled Nellie’s skin. Sheer nerves. Even now, lying naked in Julian’s bed, she couldn’t quite believe what she’d done. What she was about to do.
Her gaze darted about the room. This wasn’t her first visit to Julian’s chamber. A few days ago, with the aid of Mrs. Tibbet, she’d given the room a thorough going-over. The carpet had been beaten to within an inch of its life, the windows and curtains had been washed, and the furniture waxed and polished. At the time, her only thought had been to provide Julian with the comfortable, clean room he deserved; she’d never dreamed she’d be bold enough to visit his chamber in the role of seductress.
Was this the right way to go about things? When it came to the seduction of men, she was an ingénue, and Julian was far more experienced than she. Would he find her sufficiently alluring? She’d brushed her hair until it gleamed like copper, and she’d washed the dirt and mud from her body and rubbed rosewater over her skin, and now she lay in Julian’s bed with her hair fanned out over the pillows. But was that enough? She had no diaphanous negligee or French perfume or artful skills. Nothing but her body and her burning desire. Would that satisfy a man like Julian? Perhaps she should—
The door latch clicked and Julian walked into the room. As soon as he saw her, he stopped short, his eyes widening.
“Well.” He shut the door and moved to the foot of the bed, his steps slow and deliberate. “I did not expect this.”
She held the sheet up beneath her chin as her bravado rapidly deserted her. “Um, if you would rather I leave…”
“Oh, no.” His eyes gleamed like jet, possessing her. “If I’d known you were here waiting for me, I’d have been much speedier.”
Her heartbeat quickened. Down in the stables it had been so easy and natural to fall into his arms and kiss him, but here, in the intimate confines of his bedchamber with his personal effects around them, it was a different matter.