A Persistant Attraction (26 page)

She rose from the window seat, walked the few steps to his chair and knelt before him. His expression was guarded, almost fearful. What response had he expected from her?

She loosened the tie of his dressing gown, baring his chest. He sat forward to make the task of stripping him easier, but otherwise he didn’t move. She slid her hands up his chest, enjoying the feel of hard muscle. When she reached his shoulders, she pushed his dressing gown down his arms until it pooled at his waist.

He leaned back in the chair. She reached for the buttons that would release the flap of his trousers and felt the hard ridge of his manhood under her hand. She still couldn’t read his reaction to her attention, but at least she knew he wasn’t unaffected.

As she slid each button open, her heart rate accelerated. What if she shouldn’t try to seduce him? What if this was the wrong way to help him forget the painful memories she’d dredged up with her questioning?

She succeeded with the last button and moved her hands to his shaft. He sucked in his breath, and she glanced up briefly. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head back. She looked down when his eyes fluttered open, too shy about her actions to meet his gaze.

She bent her head and took the tip of him into her mouth. He gasped. His hips shot up, pushing him further inside. She gripped his hips, easing him back down while continuing to give him attention with her mouth. She used her tongue to circle the tip of his shaft then licked the full length with broad sweeps. He groaned, and his hands slid deep into her hair.

Her nipples tightened, and heat pulsed between her legs. She’d intended to give him pleasure, but she’d been unprepared for how his response would excite her. She wanted to climb onto his lap and seek relief for her own need which was growing more desperate by the minute. But first she intended to concentrate on giving pleasure instead of receiving. She took him back into her mouth, deeper this time.

He shoved her shoulders. “Dear God, Amanda. You’ve got to stop.” She smiled, her mouth still around him. His voice held no trace of pain or distress, only desire. Her plan was working.

She ignored his plea and lifted one hand to test the weight of his testicles, squeezing lightly. She loved the how soft and vulnerable he felt there.

He groaned low in his throat, sounding like an angry wolf. The ache between her legs had grown almost unbearable, but she refused to release him.

“Amanda.” His breathing was so erratic, his words choppy. “Please. Stop. I can’t…” For a few seconds more, she fought his attempts to stop her. A wicked part of her wanted to know if he would surrender and let her bring him to completion. What would it be like for him to orgasm in her mouth? She was determined to find out one day.

But she succumbed to his wishes, sitting back on her heels. He looked good enough to eat with his head tipped back, his eyes closed and the majority of his perfect body exposed. She gripped the waistband of his trousers and tugged. Without opening his eyes, he lifted his hips, allowing her to pull them down to his ankles.

Her body tingled as the awareness of her power crashed over her. With what little she knew of seduction, she’d gotten Rhys to allow her to bare him completely while she sat before him still fully dressed. His heart might be closed to her, but for now he was all hers. She intended to make the most of her situation.

She’d begun this seduction to help him forget the agony of his past. Now she realized she was also exploring the boundaries of their relationship, testing how much power he would give her. Thus far, the experience of control was intoxicating. If she couldn’t have a love match, could she have a partnership where they pleasured each other as equals?

She’d originally intended to let him take the reins once he’d recovered from reliving Therese’s death, but she wanted to see how he reacted if she remained in control.

He opened his eyes and studied her without bothering to lift his head. Passion made his eyes were so dark blue they were almost black.

She glanced down to make certain his interest hadn’t waned while she’d pondered her next move. His shaft remained long and stiff.

“Don’t move.”

His eyes widened, but he obeyed. She wasn’t sure what to do next. She could only rely on what she’d seen in her cousin’s illicit book and what she’d dreamed of in her imagination.

She stood long enough to raise her skirts. Then she sat, straddling his legs. She managed to maneuver herself so she could sink down on his shaft. Despite her intention to remain in control, her hands and legs shook from a combination of desire and fear.

“Let me help you.” His voice was smooth and seductive. He placed a hand on one of her hip while using his other hand to open her for his shaft. He pushed only the tip inside before shifting his grip to her waist. For several long moments, he held completely still.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. He raised his brows slightly as if to say “your move”.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself onto him. The sensation made her dizzy. Would she ever get used to the exquisite stretching?

She forced herself to move slowly. She wanted to torture him, to see how long he would wait before seizing control. The heat in his eyes intensified, and his muscles tensed. He was fighting to keep still.

When her buttocks came to rest against his thighs, she resisted the urge to squirm against him. The feel of his shaft buried inside her made her burn with need, but she was determined to stay in control. “Look at me.” He did as she asked. His gaze was that of a predator ready to pounce.

She rocked her hips forward. He groaned, but his gaze didn’t leave hers. She forced herself not to smile. “Tell me what you want.”

“I’ve had enough games, Amanda.”

She moved as if she intended to rise from his lap. He grasped her hips, forcing her back down. His thrust drew a moan from her lips, but she regained control as he dug his fingers into her buttocks and held her in place.

“Tell me what you want.” This time, her voice was barely a whisper.

He stared at her for several heartbeats. His eyes burning with need. She thought he would resist, but he surprised her. “I want your hot, slick body riding mine. I want to watch you bring yourself to ecstasy on my cock.” Amanda could barely breathe. His words stirred her to a frenzy. She rocked her hips back and forth without realizing what she was doing.

“I want you to lose yourself in pleasure.”

He released her hips, moving his hands to the arms of the chair. He was no longer touching her except where their bodies were joined. She was in control now. All she had to do was follow her instincts.

She slid up and down, slowly at first, then faster. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, letting her nails bite his flesh. She sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep from screaming.

His hips slammed against hers, but his hands remained on the chair. She controlled the rhythm, the pace, the position. And yet, she didn’t. Primal desire consumed her. All she could do was surrender to it. She feared her heart would explode, but she could not stop. She rose closer and closer to release with each wild thrust.

Then her body tightened. Her movements lost their rhythm. She bucked against Rhys, bearing down, needing more pressure against the place where all her desire was spiraling. Pleasure burst through her until she ached with it. She might have screamed, but she heard nothing but the pounding of her heart.

Seconds later, Rhys lifted her until they were no longer joined. His seed splashed against her thighs as she collapsed forward, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

As she lay there, seeming to float away from her body, she smiled. Once again, they’d proven they were as physically compatible as two people could be. But she still didn’t know if he could ever love her, especially knowing what he’d suffered when Therese died.

If she wanted to preserve her own heart, she should walk away, but after experiencing such deep pleasure with him once again, she longed for his love more than

ever. Tears slipped down her cheeks despite the aftereffects of desire still pulsing in her body.

“Pardon me.” Rhys interrupted Amanda’s conversation with a tall, hawkish man who might be the younger brother of their host, the Duke of Havington.

The man gave him a disdainful stare, obviously not used to being approached in such a fashion, but Rhys was unconcern about giving offense. At least two hours had passed since he’d touched his wife. If he could not at least waltz with her, he was going to resort to dragging her into the gardens and having his wicked way with her.

“I’ve come to claim my wife for the next dance.” He took Amanda’s arm, giving her no chance to refuse.

The man raised his brows, but he bowed and walked away.

Amanda frowned. “There was no need to be rude. Besides, husbands and wives never dance with each other at these affairs.”

“Neither of us is known for following such ridiculous rules. Dance with me.”

“You know I can’t refuse.” She gave him a lovely smile that made his heart thunder.

Rhys hoped he wasn’t just imagining that she was starting to fall in love with him. He didn’t know if he could survive any more heartbreak.

He led her onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. Nothing had ever felt better than her soft body pressed against his. They danced scandalously close, but as long as Amanda didn’t protest, he had no intention of increasing their distance.

A year before, Rhys would never have considered attending such a staid event as the Duke of Havington’s annual midseason ball, but he’d actually found the evening amusing. It seemed Amanda could make any event enjoyable. During the three weeks since he’d told Amanda how Therese had died, he and Amanda had established a truce.

Neither of them mentioned their future. The only plans they’d made were for a trip to his estate in Cornwall two weeks hence.

The past few weeks had been blessedly peaceful aside from numerous wild bouts of lovemaking. The mere thought of what they’d done to each other quickened his heartbeat and sent blood rushing to his loins. But their pleasures hadn’t all been physical. Some evenings they stayed in and read aloud or played cards. He’d never thought himself one to find pleasure in such domestic pursuits, but these had been some of the best days of his life.

He’d also taken Amanda to the opera, to Vauxhall, to one of the numerous routs hosted by members of the
ton
. In the past, Amanda would have been constantly on the defensive at a ball like the one they were attending. But she’d learned how to relax in society. Whether it was his company or a newfound confidence, Rhys didn’t know, but he was thrilled to see her smiling and enjoying herself.

Rhys had let go of much of his own tension as well. He’d shocked more than a few former acquaintances by greeting them amiably whereas in the past, he’d walked a fine line between forced civility and outright rudeness.

He knew Mouton or d’Eglantine could reappear at any moment. He tried to keep on guard for an attack, but even such a possibility didn’t scare him like it would have a few weeks ago.

He longed to tell Amanda he loved her, and he would not accept a marriage where they lived like strangers after begetting an heir. No matter how accepted such an alliance was among members of the
ton
, it was not for him. If he was going to be married, he wanted the marriage to be real. He couldn’t imagine anything extinguishing the passion that sizzled between him and Amanda.

But he feared how she would react to a declaration of love. What if she refused to believe him or worse, scorned him? She seemed happier than he’d ever seen her, but she’d said nothing to indicate that her feelings for him had deepened.

He’d faced death without fear many times, but the thought of confessing his love to Amanda paralyzed him. The possibility of her rejecting him was more frightening than any mission Farrington had sent him on. But he could not let himself continue being such a damn coward. He would find a way to tell her before they left for Cornwall.

*

Amanda lay in bed, unable to sleep. She and Rhys had shared a particularly vigorous bout of lovemaking earlier. Now he was going over some estate business. He’d promised to work quickly so he could come to bed, but he’d been ignoring his correspondence for weeks. She knew he couldn’t put off the work any longer, no matter what temptations she offered. Still, she missed his warm presence.

For the last few weeks, she’d been living a dream. Never had she imagined she’d find a husband who would cherish her so intently. But since he had recovered from his fever, Rhys had spent nearly every moment with her. He’d focused solely on making her feel loved, and she could no longer pretend desire was all that bound them to one another.

Did she dare tell him she loved him? Did he feel the same, or was his attentiveness due to a feeling of responsibility? The way he looked at her when they made love gave her hope. She doubted a man could look so open if he felt nothing for her beyond lust and duty.

Any man wanting to make a woman happy might take her to the opera or riding in the park or on one of the lovely picnics she and Rhys had enjoyed, but the intensity in his eyes when he pleasured her spoke of feelings far deeper than friendly concern. But what if she were wrong? Confessing her feelings might bring an end to the easy relationship they’d established.

Every time she attempted to gather her courage and admit her feelings, one particular concern hammered at her mind. No matter how wild Rhys grew during their lovemaking, he always managed to pull himself from her before spilling his seed. For better or worse, they were married, and she’d promised him not to seek an annulment. If he had fallen in love with her, wouldn’t he desire a child? He didn’t have a title to pass on, but surely he wanted an heir to carry on his name.

She needed to know what held him back from that deepest of intimacies. Her greatest fear was that he loved Therese so much he could not truly let go of her to start a new life with Amanda.
Please God, don’t let that be the reason.