A Growing Passion (3 page)
Stephen couldn’t quite believe his ears
or
his eyes. Victoria stood before him, her obviously aroused body nude beneath her dress. She was in front of the fire, and he could see tantalizing curves and the darkness of her taut nipples through the fabric, her face framed by her shining hair. The way she was breathing and the open desire he saw in her eyes hit him in a streak of fire that surged straight to his groin and he hardened instantly, his erection swelling and filling his breeches. She began to fumble with the fastenings on her bodice and whispered, “Please, Stephen . . . I want you inside me now. Help me take off my dress.”
or
his eyes. Victoria stood before him, her obviously aroused body nude beneath her dress. She was in front of the fire, and he could see tantalizing curves and the darkness of her taut nipples through the fabric, her face framed by her shining hair. The way she was breathing and the open desire he saw in her eyes hit him in a streak of fire that surged straight to his groin and he hardened instantly, his erection swelling and filling his breeches. She began to fumble with the fastenings on her bodice and whispered, “Please, Stephen . . . I want you inside me now. Help me take off my dress.”
She wanted . . .
him inside her?
him inside her?
Had she actually said that?
His mind reeling, he still had the presence of mind to turn and shut the door to his study, the voice of reason in his head vying with the sudden pulsing of his lower body. He had never gotten so hard so fast in his life. Standing there for a moment, he took a deep shuddering breath.
She was the daughter of a man he admired and considered a friend. She was undoubtedly innocent—he couldn’t do this. By the Saints, they had been playmates for years. “Tori, love, I think this is a mistake, it’s the seeds—”
“I’m not a virgin,” she informed him as if she could read his mind. “Hurry. I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my breasts and I ache.”
When he turned around, he saw she was naked, her full breasts licked by firelight, the apex between her legs gleaming. Dropping to the rug, she lay flat on her back and moaned again, knees spread, her damp sex open and waiting. “Stephen.”
Not a virgin
? The brief spurt of jealousy was tempered by the fact he now knew he wasn’t deflowering her. Stephen fairly tore his shirt off over his head. He unfastened his breeches, his rigid shaft springing free, aware she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes. He couldn’t get out of his boots and pants fast enough and she spread her legs open more in pure carnal invitation as he moved toward her.
? The brief spurt of jealousy was tempered by the fact he now knew he wasn’t deflowering her. Stephen fairly tore his shirt off over his head. He unfastened his breeches, his rigid shaft springing free, aware she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes. He couldn’t get out of his boots and pants fast enough and she spread her legs open more in pure carnal invitation as he moved toward her.
Good God, he was pulsing, hard against his stomach. Her cleft was wet and inviting, her arms reaching for him, her hands frantic as she gripped his shoulders. Moving between her open thighs, he took his stiff penis in his hand and guided the throbbing crest to her opening, beginning penetration without so much as a kiss, her need so obviously intense––and even without the benefit of some ancient aphrodisiac, his somehow just as wildly primitive.
No doubt, it was because he’d always wanted this, he just hadn’t imagined it happening quite this way.
“You’re so tight, Tori,” he said through his teeth, as he pushed forward carefully into her yielding heat, “but so wet.”
She evidently didn’t want him to be careful. “Fill me,” she begged, bending her knees and opening further. “All the way . . . oh, yes, like that.”
“I don’t want to be rough with you. . . .”
“Damn you, Stephen, deeper.”
With a low curse, he complied, driving forward forcefully, hearing her answering cry of pleasure. Fully embedded in her body, he felt as if he were in some sort of pagan version of heaven, the physical joy intense and soul-shattering as he began to move in and out in long slick strokes, her liquid warmth caressing him as he thrust hard into her vaginal passage, her eager hips lifting to meet each penetration.
He wasn’t surprised when she climaxed quickly, her inner muscles clenching around his straining cock, the ripples intense, and he covered her mouth with his just in time to smother a scream he was sure would bring all the servants running.
She was so beautiful in her sexual abandon that he felt his testicles tighten and scalding sensation lashed through his entire body as he stiffened and pushed as deep as possible, suddenly exploding inside her just as quickly and with such incredible force that he gasped for air.
There was an ensuing silence except for the light crackle of the flames in the hearth and his harsh breathing.
Beneath him, Tori murmured languidly, “Though I hate to agree with Lady Haldon on any point, I can see why she was so importunate.”
All Stephen could do was give a choked laugh. If Isabelle’s comment about his stamina had been overheard, it was obvious that, virgin or not, Victoria was too innocent to understand it. He’d practically embarrassed himself, but then again, she hadn’t wanted anything but all due speed. And truthfully, he was more than willing to give her anything she desired.
The sun.
The moon.
A lifetime.
And for the first time he was hopeful it might be possible.
“Don’t leave.” Victoria grasped his buttocks to stop his withdrawal and Stephen halted, his still rigid shaft partially inside her. His face was dark with passion, his light blue gaze holding hers, but he thankfully sank back inside, stretching her wide with that wonderful sensation. “I’m sorry,” she explained without a trace of the shame she should be feeling at the wanton request, “but you feel so good.”
“Why the devil would you be sorry?” His lips feathered across her temple. “And don’t worry; I vow I have no desire to go anywhere.”
“I . . .” she stopped, the impulse to offer an explanation for her impetuous behavior there, yet something also holding her back because she wasn’t quite sure just
how
to explain it.
how
to explain it.
She would never know what she might have said next because Stephen kissed her.
It was nothing like what had just happened between them but subtle, sweetly tender, his mouth molding carefully to hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, the fingers of one hand tangling in her hair.
It was gentle, it was intimate, and it was . . . indescribably erotic.
A lover’s kiss, like nothing she’d ever experienced before, but the very sum of the parts of a young woman’s fantasies of how the moment should be . . . even though, if she thought about it, maybe the kiss should have come . . .
before
.
before
.
His mouth was warm and firm as he whispered against her lips, “Your every wish is my command, but you’ll have to forgive me. I didn’t take any kind of sexual stimulant, so it might be a few minutes before I can service your . . . hungry body. In the meantime, kiss me back, Tori.”
It would be too mortifying to explain she didn’t really know how—especially when obviously he did, so she simply closed her eyes and followed his lead in the subtle dance of tongue on tongue, relaxing beneath him after that wondrous experience, letting the crackle of the fire come through, the texture of his hair . . . the very unique sensation of his hard bare chest against her taut breasts causing her breath to catch.
Lying beneath him, wide-legged and impaled, she ran her hands over his shoulders, the tensile strength of his muscles hard under her fingers. She felt less frantic in the glow of orgasmic release, but still needy, as if she wanted to keep him between her legs forever. “Why haven’t we ever done this before?” she murmured teasingly against his mouth.
Stephen shifted so their bodies were still joined but he could prop himself on one elbow, drawing her leg up over his hip. He then touched her face, lightly tracing the line of her cheek with his finger. “I suppose because you hadn’t yet visited America.”
Was there a hint of evasion in his voice? Maybe even something wistful? Once or twice her father had mentioned Stephen and her in his off-hand way, intimating there might be something more about their relationship, but she hadn’t really considered it until lately. She’d always treasured her travels, and Stephen, well, he’d never said
anything
.
anything
.
There was certainly something more
now
.
now
.
“If you think the drug is why I’m here, you’re wrong,” she admitted, looking deep into his eyes, a ridiculous shyness seizing her despite their intimate position. “The drug was a way to let me ask for this,”––she lifted her hips lightly, savoring the way he still stretched her, even not fully erect—“without being too terribly nervous.”
“You weren’t nervous at all that I could tell.” He laughed, his free hand beginning to toy with her left breast, cupping it in his warm palm, circling the sensitive nipple and rolling it lightly in his fingers.
Her body, still aroused and stimulated by the seeds, reacted instantly. Victoria let her head fall back and her eyes drift shut, her concentration flying to that one part of her body, her inner muscles pulsing lightly around his shaft in immediate reaction to his touch. “Yes, please don’t stop.”
“You like that,” he lightly squeezed. “My God, you have perfect breasts. I imagined them a thousand times but my fantasies didn’t do you justice.”
She would have to think about his fantasies later. When, in fact, she could think again, because now . . .
“Consider them,” she said in an uneven voice, “yours for as long as you want them.”
One brow lifted up and he said softly, “Oh, I want them.”
He continued the exquisite torture until she was panting; stroking, cupping, reshaping her flesh in his hands, his touch gliding over her quivering body. And when he finally lifted one welling mound and bent his head to suckle the trembling crest, she felt as if the world rushed in and collapsed on top of her. Vivid sensation spiked straight to the throbbing junction between her legs and she climaxed again with a small cry.
In that blissful post-orgasmic world, she didn’t even realize he had adjusted himself over her again. “I’m twenty-six, not sixteen,” he whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her neck, “but apparently I can rise to the occasion faster than I thought. Can you feel it?”
She could, her passage pliant, his staff swelling inside her, hard and extravagantly male.
In disbelief her body could crave more so soon, she moaned as he lengthened and stretched her. He began to move again, his rhythm slower this time, her body excruciatingly sensitive to the friction of flesh against flesh, of hardness against softness, of male possessing female. It was too much, she thought wildly, this pleasure, this carnal joining.
Leaning forward, he kissed her, whispering urgently, “One more time, Tori love, come for me one more time.”
She did, crying out without thought, convulsing around his inexorable sexual invasion of her body, aware when he stiffened and pushed in deep, his eyes drifting shut, the pulse of his release something she could feel even through her own peaking pleasure.
This time, when he gently withdrew a few minutes later, she didn’t object. The last thing she remembered, her body pleasantly exhausted, was his arms safely around her as they lay by the fire.
She felt wonderful, she thought drowsily.
But now nothing was going to be the same.
“You did it, didn’t you?”
“Did what?” Reaching for her glass of sherry, Victoria innocently lifted her brows.
Across the small tea table, her friend, Elaine Rice, Lady Wharton, exclaimed vehemently, “You finally bedded him; the delectable young Mr. Forsythe! By heavens, you are practically glowing, child.”
She blushed, but one of the things Victoria liked best about Elaine was that she was unconventional. “I could hardly walk the whole next day,” she confessed, lowering her voice.
With her glass dangling in her long fingers, Lady Wharton leaned back and said wickedly, “Then perhaps you didn’t
bed
him, it sounds like he
fucked
you. I’m deeply jealous.”
bed
him, it sounds like he
fucked
you. I’m deeply jealous.”
Outrageous terminology aside, what they had done had certainly not been tender romantic lovemaking, that was sure.
Well, maybe not that first time, but she’d never forget how he’d kissed her afterwards, and then what came after. . . .
“I used the seeds.” Victoria glanced at the doorway, keeping her tone low. “It was rather beyond sensational.”
“I believe I shall have to go to America now and bestir myself to see the West,” Elaine murmured. “Anyway, it’s about time you did something about that delicious young man. What happens next?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t even seen him since and it has been nearly three days.”
“Well, I
do
know.” Her companion, tall, elegantly dressed, and despite the fact she was a decade older, still beautiful in a full-figured way, said plainly, “Stephen Forsythe is a gentleman, despite his . . . uhm . . . rumored prowess in the bedroom, and he has been in love with you for years. I predict a letter is on its way to your father already, clearly stating his honorable intentions.”
do
know.” Her companion, tall, elegantly dressed, and despite the fact she was a decade older, still beautiful in a full-figured way, said plainly, “Stephen Forsythe is a gentleman, despite his . . . uhm . . . rumored prowess in the bedroom, and he has been in love with you for years. I predict a letter is on its way to your father already, clearly stating his honorable intentions.”
Startled, Victoria choked on a sip of sherry. “Do you think so?”
“Indeed.”
“He’s been in love with me?”
“Everyone knew but you, darling.”
“But I don’t know if I want to get married.”
“Then you should have kept your legs together and those seeds in that jar.”
Frowning, Victoria stared at the ruby liquid in her glass. “Despite what happened, Stephen is rather a settled, traditional sort of person. I would guess he would want his wife to stay at home and bear his children rather than wander the globe in search of new species of plants.”
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