A Marquess for Christmas (15 page)

But
the moment he realized what it was, it began to slip away.

Could
he leave her after this? Could he willingly part with the woman who embodied
his every fantasy? He kissed her breast. Massaged it and took it into his
mouth.

What
if this thing, this peace, only belonged to her? If he stayed, would it stay
with him?

Kit
blinked. His heart thudded in his ears and his limbs throbbed in unison. He
became aware of the warm, supple body beneath his, the sweeping of her leg up
and down his thigh. He heard her rasping breath.

He
was here with Violet. They were making love. There was nothing else he needed
to think about, nothing he needed to know. She was a beautiful woman in his
bed, hungry and ready for him.

He
knew how to do this. He’d done it before. So why did she feel different?

To
stop his thoughts, Kit pressed his lips to hers. He coaxed her mouth open and
plunged into the depths of her mouth the way he would soon sink into her body.

The
way she moaned and sunk her nails into his skin reminded him of what this was
about. She needed him to take control, needed him to drive her over the edge
and down into the abyss.

He’d
promised her that. Nothing else. He rocked his hips against hers, needing to
feel her softness yielding to him. Sharp nails sunk deeper into his flesh.

For
now he would give her body what it needed. Tomorrow, he could worry about the
rest.

Chapter Nine

Fever
raged through Violet’s body. Kit’s hands, his mouth, his sex aroused her to the
point where she knew nothing but the heavy sound of his breathing and her own
lust, spiraling higher and higher with every touch.

She
wanted him to take her, to ease the torment racking her body.

He
would hold it back from her, tease her endlessly until she gave him everything.
Her heart, her soul, her body.

Because
the game was more than sex. She knew it, though he never said so. He thrived on
control, just as she did. Sometimes that worried her, though she trusted him
not to physically hurt her. Emotionally? That was another thing altogether.

It
was too easy to wake up in the morning, knowing she would see him at breakfast,
that she would spend her evening chatting with him about books or singing a
ballad together even without a pianoforte or violin to accompany them.

When
she went to sleep at night, his face was ever in her mind.

She’d
already given him her mind, and her heart, and now her body was imminently to
follow. She could not deny him that, not when she’d yearned to have him since
the day they’d met.

As
they lay chest to chest, their heated bodies writhing together as they kissed
and stroked one another, Violet clung to him, knowing there would not be many
nights like this.

“I
want you naked,” he whispered. His brown eyes swirled with something dark, some
element she could not name. Yet the need was there, too. The same need that
sparked through her body and tore at her heart.

She
loosened her legs and rolled over, so that he could see her back. She lay
still, breathing hard, waiting for him to strip her of her clothes the way he’d
stripped her of every resistance that she had.

The
touch of his fingers on the hooks made her tremble. Her breath caught at the
sound of the clasps coming undone. A soft kiss to her shoulder blade sent
tingles down her back.

He
pulled off the evening gown and untied her petticoat and set them on her chair.
When Kit turned her toward him, she couldn’t keep from kissing him. The warmth
of his lips, his tongue thawed the fear until it faded to the edges of her
mind.

Her
bodice felt tight and constricting, but his fingers darted through and around
the laces of her stays until the fabric parted. Only her chemise remained.
Sometimes she wore those clever drawers, particularly on cool winter days, but
lately she’d taken to going without them. Was it because she always knew it
would come to this? Ever since that day he’d awoken from fever and it was clear
that he was as drawn to her as she to him?

Did
she believe in fate? Was her every reaction inevitable? Was there anything she
could do or would the story end the same no matter what she tried?

If
it meant that she could have him now, that she could be his for as long as
tonight would last, then she was willing to take the risk. Kit was her
weakness. He was the loose spot in her armor that would unravel the chain mail
and expose the vulnerable woman inside.

When
Kit threw off the last vestiges of her clothing, Violet shivered.

“Are
you cold?”

“No,”
she whispered.

Even
in the candlelight, his body was exquisite. She longed to trace and kiss every
muscle of his taut body. Would there ever be enough time to learn each line and
curve?

“You
are perfect,” he said as he joined her on the bed, his body moving with the
grace and prowess of a lion.

“You
flatter me,” she said, giving him a look. “There is no need. But if heaven ever
made a more divine form than yours, I should love to see it.” She smiled.

The
touch of his palms on her chin warmed every inch of her skin. He kissed one
cheek, then the other. “I have never seen any creature more stunning than you.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “There is no other woman I would want to
take to bed with me and no other that I would want to wake up to in the morn.”

Her
heart clenched. Did he mean the words? She would give in to him whether he’d
spoken them or not. She was afraid to hope for anything beyond the next few
days.

But
if he failed to remember his identity, would he choose to stay with her? If he
had nowhere else to go, maybe she could convince him to remain at
Welbury
Park.

The
pad of his finger caressed the edge of her hairline. His gaze, hot and dark,
melted her down to liquid.

“Do
you trust me?”

She
searched his face, but she could not fathom his question. “What do you mean?”

“Do
you trust me?” The thumb on her lips made her dart out her tongue to lick it.
“Let me ask another way.
Will
you trust
me?”

What
was he about? Knowing him, he would not tell her until she agreed. “Yes.” She
kissed his fingers.

He
graced her with a wide grin. “Good.” His long dark lashes came down as his
mouth met hers.

Before
she could figure out what he was planning, he’d taken his cravat and covered
her eyes. Deft fingers tied the blindfold in place.

“Stealthy.”

“
Ssssh
.”

The
weight on the bed shifted and the cool air glided down her body. His warmth was
gone. Where was he?

“I
pray you do not intend to leave me here like this.”

“Quiet.
And be still.” A drawer opened and closed. Then another. She could hear him
rustling, searching.

His
footsteps moved about the room first close, then over by the window and back
again. She listened to the soft scrape of his feet over the floor. Was he
walking barefoot? He should be wearing slippers, but she’d caught him before
with his bare feet on the cold wood.

She
was going to tell him to put them on, but she knew that he would merely ignore
her.

She
heard the clinking sound of items being set down. What did he intend to do to
her?

Her
first clue was a cold sensation on her nipple. It scraped across the delicate
bud. She squirmed, but strong hands grabbed her arms and she stilled. His
thighs straddled hers, caging her in.

Something
pointed poked the tip of her other nipple. It circled the center and she
gasped. It was not quite pain, but the sensation was sharp, then tingly. Then
it was gone.

Though
she could hear him breathe, feel his thighs pressed into her, he did not touch
her with his hands or anything else. She counted to thirty when there was
another sharp scrape across her nipple. She wasn’t sure what he was holding,
but it was made of metal.

She
braced herself for another stab but instead his nails scored her sides from her
underarms down to her hips. “
Ahhh
.” Again, she
squirmed, but his mouth took hers, ravaging every corner of her mouth until she
softened under him.

His
lips abandoned hers and she sat, breathing hard, waiting. She wanted to wiggle,
to relieve the building pressure between her thighs, but she bit down on her
lip and willed herself to stay still.

Minutes
passed then his hot, wet tongue branded her nipple. He swirled around the
areola before flicking his tongue against the tip. She couldn’t control the
shiver that passed through her.

His
breath fanned her ear. “Be still.”

When
he gave a hard pinch to her nipple, she cried out. She tried to move her arms,
but he caught them in his hands and pinned them back to the mattress.

The
shift of his weight made her curious. She heard rustling sounds again and
realized he’d leaned over to get something. What was it this time?

Something
teased her belly button. It was like little fairies dancing over her skin. They
trailed up to her breast, circling fully around it. She moaned when they got to
her nipple.

The
skin of her neck and ears was even more sensitive and she broke into laughter
as he assaulted her with the object in his hand. Before she knew it, he’d roped
her hands and tied them together. She could feel something hanging from it. A
little bell with fringe. Tassels? He must have robbed them from the curtains.

“I
told you to be still, my love.” The honeyed words soothed and quieted her as
nothing else could have.

The
next thing she felt was something marking a line from her sternum down her
belly and back up again. It was too cool and firm to be his nail but it was
small and thin.

He
curved a line down her hip to her calf with the tool then slid it up the inside
of her thigh. Its edge wasn’t sharp, but it tickled. She giggled and squirmed.

“Be—”

“—Still.”

“You
asked for it.”

He
pinched her inner thigh, squeezing tight enough to make her yelp. “Ouch!”

Soft
lips kissed hers and his hands rubbed her shoulders, kneading the muscles until
she sighed in relaxation.

“Be
good for me and I will be
very
good
to you,” he said. Before she could reply, she felt his palm—yes, his
palm—pressed against her mound. Just a little lower...however, his hand
did not move. But the gentle weight of it felt good. Maybe it was a promise of
things to come.

She
rotated her hips and he let a finger slip into her folds and tease her
sensitive pearl. Oh, her nipples went so tight a pang lanced through them.

Kit
bit her ear. The dual sensations of his finger and his teeth aroused her so
much she felt moisture pooling between her legs.

“
Mmmm
,” he murmured. Then he shoved his palm against her
sex, grinding down.

She
wanted to touch him, but her hands were still bound. “Untie me.”

His
fingers pinched her clit, making her body jerk. “No.”

“Please,”
she whispered.

He
bit down on her ear again. “Please what?”

“Please,”
she repeated, not sure whether her priority was for him to untie her or to let
him slide his fingers into her sex and push her to orgasm.

“What
do you want, Violet?” His thumb stroked her lower lips and her body trembled in
response. “You can speak now.”

“I
want you to…”

“Tease
you?” He pressed his thumb down on the nub of her desire. “Torture you?” His
other hand squeezed her nipple.

She
sucked in a breath, but his fingers continued to pinch and pull on her breast.
How could something that hurt feel so good?

His
sexy voice dropped so low it sent a humming through her sex. “Would you like me
to fuck you?”

The
gentleman was gone. In his place was a raw, wild libertine who used her body
for his dark pleasures. Yet Violet wasn’t afraid. She knew she should be.

“Finish
it,” she whispered, wishing she could touch him or see his face. With the
cravat blinding her, she could only imagine the midnight depths of his eyes.
The memory of his face burned in her mind, even as his hands set her body
afire. She suddenly understood the power of the dark and why Persephone and
Eurydice would be drawn to stay in the stygian underworld with Hades.

“I
want to hear you say it,” he whispered, rocking his palm against her dripping
sex.

“What?”

The
gravel in his voice frayed the control which she could feel slipping away. “Say
that you want me to fuck you.”

“No.”

His
finger skidded across her pearl, sliding back and forth. She pulled against her
bonds and jerked her fists to wiggle out of the tassel rope.

A
tight grip crushed her hands. “Say it and I’ll consider letting your hands
loose.”

Why
had he stopped the wondrous torture of his fingers on her sex? The man was
maddening. If only he was closer to her face, she would bite him. His finger
lay against the hood of her opening. If he would just move it again, she was
sure she could get there, get back to that maddening race up to the cliff of
desire.

Violet
frowned. “Free me or fuck me, but do something before I throw you off.”

Kit
laughed. “That is close enough. This time.”

The
bed rocked as he moved and she heard the soft rumple of the bedding and the
patting of a pillow. She listened for some clue as to what he was planning.
Right when she would have uttered a retort, he grabbed her waist and lifted her
up. He wrapped one arm around her and with the other, he pushed her legs open
and set her down to straddle him.

She
could feel his ears and the fine strands of his hair against her arm as he
lifted her arms over his head. Her nipples brushed against his chest and she
loved the friction of his body against hers. She arched her back and rolled her
nipples over his skin.