Despite his teasing tone, she felt her heart sink to be reminded of the danger. “I don’t wish to deprive you of your usual pursuits,” she replied, skirting the issue.
“You aren’t.”
“You don’t miss your Hellfire League entertainments?”
“How could I miss such mundane affairs when I have my delectable wife to keep me satisfied?”
She doubted those wicked affairs were at all mundane, although she didn’t press the point. Yet while Brynn disliked admitting it, she was secretly glad Lucian had deferred his participation in the League. She didn’t care to think of him consorting with the brand of females that entertained the dissolute Hellfire members.
Indeed, she didn’t care to think of Lucian with any other female at all. He was as much sought after by the fairer sex as she was by her suitors, and dismayingly, Brynn found herself stung by jealousy each time a beautiful woman looked at him with lust. She was aware that Lucian had had any number of mistresses before his marriage, and she found herself scanning the crowds, wondering which ones had enjoyed his patronage.
Yet he seemed interested only in her for the moment, and wholly dedicated to his pledge of getting her with child.
A week following their visit to Harrow, Brynn was sitting at her dressing table, having her hair arranged, for they planned to attend a ball later that evening after dining at home. When she sensed Lucian’s presence, she looked up to find him leaning indolently against the door from her sitting room.
Her heart started beating in that slow, heavy way it did whenever he was near-and accelerated when she saw he wasn’t at all prepared to go to the ball. He wore only a dressing robe of forest green brocade, which clearly told her he had more than dancing till dawn on his mind. He stood there a moment, so handsome that Brynn realized she was forgetting to breathe.
Then, with a brief nod, he summarily dismissed her maid, vexing Brynn somewhat with his presumption.
“Meg was not finished with my hair,” she protested when the girl had scurried from the room.
“She can finish later. I ordered dinner served in your sitting room, and the dishes won’t remain warm for long. Will you join me, love? ”
All he had to do was smile that lazy, entrancing smile, exactly as he was doing now, and Brynn’s vexation melted.
He offered her his hand and escorted her to the adjacent sitting room, where delicious aromas assaulted her senses. The scene was staged for lovers, Brynn realized. A fire burned lazily in the hearth, and the table that had been set up for their repast groaned with sumptuous dishes-braised duck and ragout of veal, tomato aspic, potatoes in Hollandaise sauce, and artichoke hearts, with desserts of Geonese cakes and raspberry cream.
Lucian took it upon himself to serve her, and when they were done, he sat back and eyed Brynn over his wineglass, his gaze lingering brazenly on her bosom.
She felt herself flush at his lascivious look. “Must you ogle me that way?” she said finally. “Every time you look at me, I feel ravished.”
“Perhaps because every time I look at you, I want to ravish you.”
She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Shouldn’t you begin dressing for the ball?”
“My appetite hasn’t been satisfied yet.”
“After that delicious fare, what more could you possibly be hungry for?”
“You, love. I have a vast craving to taste you with the sweets. I’ve been imagining how much I would like to set you on the table, lift your skirts, and bury my head between your thighs.”
Brynn felt her blood heat at the suggestive image. “On the table? You aren’t serious.”
His smile was tantalizing, tempting as sin. “Ah, Brynn, how little you know me.” Leaning forward, Lucian lifted her hand and turned his mouth into her palm.
“Someone could come,” she said breathlessly.
“Someone could,” he agreed. “But I should be allowed to enjoy savoring my wife in private.”
Rising, he crossed the room and locked the door to the hall. Then he cleared most of the dishes from the table to the hearth, leaving the silver bowl of raspberry cream.
“We will be late for the ball,” Brynn said, making one last attempt at being sensible.
“It’s fashionable to be late. Besides, that gown you are wearing is worse than being naked,” Lucian replied, coming to stand behind her chair.
Brynn frowned, knowing her jade, empire-waist gown was elegantly cut but modest as far as evening attire went. “What is wrong with my gown?”
“It’s far too provocative.” Bending, he nuzzled aside her tresses and found her ear, touching it with the tip of his tongue. “I can’t possibly permit you to go out in public dressed like that, looking so lush and tempting. I shall have to remove it.”
He reached down to slide his hands beneath her bodice, caressing her nipples. Brynn arched against his touch wantonly and bit back a moan.
“ Lucian…” she murmured finally.
“Yes, my love?” he asked, nibbling at her ear.
“This is scandalous.”
“No, it isn’t. It is merely your duty, which you’ve neglected outrageously of late, wife. You haven’t properly aroused me today.”
With effort, Brynn opened her dazed eyes. “I think you should be the one to arouse me for a change.”
“I would be more than happy to oblige, love.”
Her heart began to race as he unfastened the hooks at the back of her bodice. Helping her to her feet then, he pushed the fabric off her shoulders, letting her expensive gown slide to the floor. Lucian made short work of her corset and chemise, drawing it over her head, leaving her wearing only stockings and garters and slippers.
The heat of his gaze burned her to the core as he stared at her breasts gleaming pale and bare. Opening his robe, he brought her full against his hardened frame, letting her feel his desire. Brynn shut her eyes, hot tension radiating from her loins in waves as his thick, pulsating member nestled between her thighs.
He didn’t take her, though. Instead he lifted her to the table and pulled the pins from her hair.
“Your hair is incredible… like fire,” he whispered, tangling his fingers in the long tresses, “aflame around you.” Holding her still, he began a hot exploration of the inside of her mouth. His kiss was relentless in its demand, twisting, bruising, insisting, stirring.
Her senses felt dazed as he eased her back upon the table, spreading her thighs for his appreciation. His eyes roamed freely over her, just as his lean, strong hands were doing. For a moment his hands covered her breasts, his palms working her stiffened nipples, but then Lucian drew back.
The curve of his lips was darkly sensual as he dipped his finger into the bowl of raspberry cream, anointing the twin peaks of her breasts standing taut and high. Brynn shivered at the chill sensation, even as the fire of his gaze heated her flesh. His finger dipped again, and he traced a sweet path along her body, painting her navel with the sweet cream, and lower, drenching the lips of her sex. Brynn had to grit her teeth at the warm shock that went through her.
He let his own robe drop to the floor, standing above her, his magnificent body bare. Then, easing his powerful thighs between her spread legs, he bent to lick the cream from her nipples.
Brynn gasped as he suckled the tight, wet crests, feeling pleasure spiking downward toward the pulsing core of her body.
“Delicious,” he murmured, his rasping tongue working his way along her skin. Holding one breast in each hand, he moved his mouth even lower, burying his head between her thighs as he’d threatened earlier.
She went rigid, scarcely believing the incredible sensations as he tasted her. Lucian was so powerful in the way he took control. He licked and savored, setting her nerves awake with each flick of his tongue.
She was whimpering now. The lash of pleasure was almost cruel, the searing wet heat almost unbearable. Desperately she threaded her fingers tightly through his darkly burnished hair and clung to him.