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She paused, drawing a shuddering breath. "Everyone came crowding into the doorway to listen to Gordon's hateful rant. I thought my friend would defend me, but he apologized, a look of guilt on his face as if we really had been having an affair. It was only later that I understood."
"Understood what?"
"That Gordon had arranged the entire spectacle. That the man I'd thought my friend was really his p.a.w.n. He testified that we were lovers, that he was one of many men with whom I had relations. He painted me a doxy before the entire world. And nothing I said could change anyone's mind. No one asked me anything because no one believed that I might not be guilty."
She hung her head, her hands clenched in a tight, white-knuckled grip. She wasn't even aware of Leo until he took a seat at her side and covered her cold hands with one of his own.
"I believe you," he said. "I believe every word of your innocence."
Then she was in his arms, clasped inside his strong, warm embrace, her face pressed to his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Thalia." He brushed his lips against her temple. "I would undo it all if I could. Your hurt pains me." He skimmed featherlight kisses over her forehead and nose and cheek, each slight touch driving away a little more of the chill inside her. "But I cannot be sorry you are no longer his wife. For that, I can have no remorse."
Tilting back her head, she looked into his eyes. "I hated being his wife. Make me forget, Leo. Make me forget it all, if only for tonight."
His mouth found hers, softly, slowly. He kissed her tenderly, as if she were made of spun gla.s.s and he feared she might shatter.
And perhaps she might, she realized, but not for the reasons he thought.
She was so tired.
Tired of the lies.
Of the loneliness.
And most of all, of denying her own natural human desires.
She'd been branded a harlot yet enjoyed none of the carnal rewards. Until now, until Leo, she had not missed them. Hadn't even wanted them, thinking herself incapable of such needs.
But Leo made her feel, made her yearn as she never imagined she could. He'd given her a taste of pleasure so exquisite it still haunted her dreams, awake and asleep.
And now, tonight, she wanted more.
Closing her eyes, she kissed him back, silently urging him to take things deeper. But his touch remained light, his every move easy and slow, as if time itself had stopped and they were the only two people left in the world.
He dusted silky kisses over her eyelids, nose and cheeks, then down to her chin and jaw, where he placed nibbling little pecks along the length of her throat. His lips settled at the base, nuzzling there before he began drawing on her with a sweet suction that would surely leave a mark.
His mark.
The knowledge made her tremble as fire sizzled through her veins. Her fingers twined in the dark gold of his hair to cradle him closer.
He made a low humming sound of pleasure as she caressed his nape. Scattering kisses, he moved on to a new spot along the upper curve of her breast. He licked her there lightly, then did the same to its twin, leaving behind a damp trail that set her nerves ablaze.
A fresh shudder rippled over her skin, hot and cold, then hot and cold again. Her clothes suddenly felt too tight, too confining, her thin satin slippers irrationally heavy on her feet.
With a restless movement, she kicked them off.
Leo noticed. "Will your maid be along to a.s.sist you tonight?"
She shook her head. "No. I told her not to wait up, that I would see to myself."
He smiled, pleased. "Then I shall see to you," he told her, a proprietary gleam in his eyes. "Presuming you will let me, that is."
"I will," she murmured. "Take me to bed now, Leo."
He kissed her again, then entwined his fingers with hers to pull her to her stocking feet. Hand in hand, he led her across the sitting room into her bedchamber. He closed the door behind them with a firm click of the lock.
Still holding her hand, he drew her to the satinwood dressing table with its large mirror. Gently, he turned her around so she faced the gla.s.s, her back to his front. Their eyes met in the reflection.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to a spot just behind her ear; her toes curled against the soft wool carpet. "Where does she usually begin?" he asked.
"With my jewelry," she said, her breath thin in her lungs.
He came around and reached for the bracelet on her wrist. Unfastening it, he laid it next to the rose-painted porcelain hairpin box on her dressing table.
Her necklace came next.
Moving behind her again, he set his fingers to work, nimbly opening the tiny clasp. She stood utterly still, watching through shuttered lids as he gathered the warmed gold into his palm.
His lips glided over her cheek and temple. Arching her head back against his shoulder, she let him take her lips in a leisurely, openmouthed kiss that left no doubt of his ultimate intentions.
Her eyelids slid closed.
Rather than continue, though, he went to her dressing table again to place the necklace next to its companion. "Gown next?" he said.
Silently, she nodded.
He took a moment first to remove his jacket, leaving him in waistcoat, shirtsleeves and trousers; then he stepped behind her again.
His fingers went to the small b.u.t.tons on the back of her evening dress. With a deft touch, he began working them open. "I've been wanting to do this since the night we first met."
Her eyes found his again in the mirror, a faint smile on her lips. "Yes, I know. You were horribly forward."
"I was also hopelessly bewitched."
He placed a palm over the exposed skin of her shoulder for a warm caress. "I thought I'd changed your mind that afternoon by the lake at Holland House, but you ran away."
"I did. I'm sorry about that. And for getting you shot."
"I told you before, you are forgiven. Who could possibly have foreseen that farmer and his gun?"
He slid her dress down and off, pausing to let her step free. "But you were right to make us wait. I can see that now."
"Can you?" Her heart beat faster as she stood in nothing but her shift and stays.
He draped her gown over the back of a nearby chair, then returned to unlace her corset. "Yes, I know you now. We know each other. Tonight is going to be amazing."
Tendrils of antic.i.p.ation spread through her. She knew he was right.
With a speed and efficiency that demonstrated his familiarity with women's undergarments, he pulled her stays free and laid them on top of her dress.
Then he came to stand behind her again, their eyes meeting once more in the mirror. He pulled her gently to him, rocking her slightly against the unmistakable evidence of his erection.
She trembled, then trembled once more as his fingers moved across the thin cotton bodice of her shift to unfasten the b.u.t.tons there.
Her eyelids drifted closed.
"Open your eyes," he commanded, his voice rich as velvet. "I want you to see yourself, to see us, and how perfectly we fit together."
He waited until she complied before peeling back the cloth to reveal her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Cupping them in his wide palms, he ran his thumbs over her nipples. She watched the pink tips tighten, felt their ache down to her core.
"You are so beautiful," he said with unmistakable reverence.
Unable to look away, she watched him fondle her, rolling her throbbing peaks between his thumbs and forefingers, stroking, sliding, before giving them a firm pinch.
She cried out, her head pressing back against his wide shoulder. "Do you like that?" he asked.
"Yes." The word came out on a gasp.
"Good."
Unfastening a last pair of b.u.t.tons at her waist, he pushed her shift down past her hips. It pooled at her feet. "Kick it away," he told her.
Thighs quivering, she obeyed.
He curved a long arm around her bare stomach and pressed her more tightly against him.
Seeing their reflection in that moment, she was struck by the fact that she was completely naked, save for her stockings and garters, while he was still fully clothed. She waited for him to lead her to the bed.
He shocked her instead.
"Spread your legs," he told her.
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"Your legs. Move them apart." Bending his head, he kissed the side of her neck. "Trust me. I promise I'll take care of you."
And she did trust him. Otherwise she would never have let things go so far, never have given him such power over her.
She hesitated a few seconds more, then obeyed him again.
In the mirror, she watched his other hand slide down, over her waist and hip and thigh. He stroked her inner thigh for a few tantalizing moments, then wove his fingers through the patch of dark curls between her legs.
Her body flushed with heat and longing.
Slowly, he slid one long finger inside her, going deep.
"Hmm, you're so wet already. Practically dripping for me," he said with approval.
His words made her wetter, intimate moisture beading as he inserted another finger beside the first. He stroked, in and out, then in and out again.
The sight and sensation of his touch turned her legs to jelly. If not for Leo's strong arm at her waist, she knew she would have crumbled to the floor. But he held her steady, relentless as he drove her closer and closer to the edge of insanity.
She moaned and angled her pelvis to draw him deeper still, her head rolling against his shoulder, her eyelids falling shut.
"Keep your eyes open." He stroked her faster, pausing to scissor his fingers inside her with every deep inner touch. "See how beautiful you are as you take your pleasure."
And then she couldn't look away, watching, feeling, as he built her desire higher and hotter. She ached, hunger sc.r.a.ping through her until she felt raw, shaking from the force.
He cupped her with his palm and pressed deeper. As he did, he rubbed with his thumb, doing something so astonishingly pleasurable she thought she might break.
Suddenly, she was crying out, quaking wildly as she toppled over into bliss. Her mind went blank, her limbs too weak to hold her up.
But Leo didn't let her fall. Exactly as he'd promised, she was safe in his arms.
He wasn't done, though, far from it, she realized hazily as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her across to the bed. He laid her against the sheets, the linen cool against her overwarm flesh.
"I forgot to take down your hair," he said, leaning over her for a long, sultry kiss.
Continuing to kiss her, he began sliding hairpins free, dropping them in small cl.u.s.ters onto her bedside table. Once her hair was loose, he drove his fingers into the heavy ma.s.s, ma.s.saging her scalp as he searched for any overlooked pins.
Tingles radiated downward from her head, the sensation of his fingers unbearably erotic. She shivered and speared her fingers into his hair to draw him nearer. Finding his mouth, she kissed him hard, sliding her tongue in and out with wild abandon.
He moaned and demanded more. Eagerly, she gave it.
Then he broke away, his hands moving to the b.u.t.tons on his waistcoat.
She watched as he stripped off his clothes, every inch of skin he revealed a profound revelation.
Simply put, Leo was beautiful.
His shoulders and chest were broadly sculpted. His stomach was a flat plane that beckoned to be touched, while his arms and legs were roped with lean male muscle. His hips and b.u.t.tocks were tight and narrow. As for his shaft, he was heavily erect, thick and long, a bead of moisture glistening on the broad tip.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she reached out and took him in her hand, running a thumb over the drop of his s.e.m.e.n. Another one immediately gathered. She rubbed that one too.
A harsh groan rumbled low in his throat, his eyes closing for a second of obvious bliss. "You're going to unman me if you aren't careful," he warned.
"Am I? From what I've seen, that doesn't seem likely."
His eyes gleamed, dark with need. Then he was on the bed, bending up her knees as he fit himself between her legs. He crushed his lips to hers, ravishing her mouth in a way that left her enslaved.
Breath panted from her lips as she slid one leg up over his back. "My stockings," she said, only then remembering that he hadn't taken them off.
"Leave them," he said, palming one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I like the idea of tupping you with them on."
He kissed her again before bending lower to suckle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in ways that drove her mad, using his lips and tongue and teeth until she thought she might drown in the sensations. Hunger coursed through her, stronger than any she'd ever known.
Still, she gasped as he slid a hand beneath her b.u.t.tocks and thrust heavily inside. It had been a long time, more than six years, since she'd taken a man into her body. She thought she'd known what to expect, but nothing about Leo was ever what she imagined it would be.