Read The Perfect Temptation Online
Authors: Leslie LaFoy
terribly warm."
It
wasn't an engraved
invitation, but it was close. "I can
help you with that," he offered,
reaching up between them
and slowly, very deliberately opening a
button on her bodice.
Alex held his gaze, knowing that she should
step away.
Or at the very least offer a protest, feeble
and dishonest as
it
might be. He opened another and she kept her
silence, stayed
right where she was. Another and her blood
was singing, her
pulse thundering. Another and she was
struggling to pull
air
into her lungs. Another and another and then
he was done,
leaving her unbuttoned to the waist and
trying to keep her
knees from buckling.
He eased the fabric to the sides and blew a
soft stream of
air across the swells of her breasts.
Twining her fingers
through his hair to anchor herself, she
asked on a ragged
breath, "Do you honestly think that's
helping?"
His smile was quirked and soft but no less
rakish for it.
"I'll bet being warm isn't quite as
distracting as it was."
"It's certainly not as unpleasant for
some reason."
Devilment danced in his eyes and he lightly
trailed his
fingertips along the edge of her corset.
Sweet tendrils of
warmth swept through her and coiled into her
core. He did
it
again, his touch bolder this time, more
deliberately inflaming.
She smiled and moistened her suddenly too
dry lips.
And then his fingers slipped into the lacy
confines to
tease her hardened nipples. "Oh,"
she breathed, swaying on
her feet, her head light as she leaned into
his caress.
"Like that, do you?" he whispered,
smiling knowingly up
at her.
"Far more than I probably should,"
she confessed, her
heart overfilling, her core going molten.
"Far more."
"There are no shoulds to desire,
darling.
If
you like it,
you ask for more."
It was a challenge, a dare, a plea.
If
she stepped back from
it, he wouldn't chastise her or
think
any less of her for the
timidity.
If
she accepted it, there would be no more hesitation,
no restraint, no thinking. He would give her
the moon, the
stars, and all the pleasure she could bear.
"More, please. Now,
if
you wouldn't
mind."
His grin was unholy and sent her heart
soaring. "Not at
all," he murmured, slipping his hands
to the underside of her
breasts. His thumbs scraping her nipples, he
lifted them
from the confines of her corset and lowered
his head.
"So luscious," he declared,
kissing a swell, moving
slightly lower, kissing her again.
Alex closed her eyes, awash in the waves of
potent sensation,
holding her breath, afraid she'd die of
waiting. "Oh,
Aiden," she gasped.
Had any woman ever whispered such an
earliest plea?
It
thrummed over his senses, igniting his blood
and fraying his
gentler intentions. He closed his eyes and
paused, determined
to hold his course, to keep their progress
under control. Alex
deserved tenderness and a slow, reverent
hand. He couldn't
let the seduction go too far, too fast. Not
here. Not right now.
"Please, Aiden."
The muscles in his loins tightened and grew
hard. They
were in the kitchen, he desperately reminded
himself. The
others were due back within minutes. He
wanted to go
slowly enough to savor the little quivers of
her pleasure, take
her low moans into his mouth and make her
squirm with
wanting, make her whisper his name and plea
for release.
But not now. He couldn't now.
She threaded her fingers into his hair and
arched back to
boldly offer -his lips a dark, pebbled
treasure. Through the
pounding roar of his heartbeat he heard the
rasp of his own
labored breathing, heard the high-pitched
snapping of his restraint.
A glorious bolt of heat and desire shot
through her, full
and wide and deep. Alex gasped
in
surprised delight, accepting
both the incredible pleasure Aiden gave her
and the need
that drove her deeper into his arms. A
second wave of pleasure,
far more powerful than the first, rolled
over her, filling
her senses, propelling her into a realm of
demanding hunger
and unrelenting need.
"Aiden!" she cried, her legs
melting under the glorious
fire consuming her.
He pulled her up and, wrapping her tightly
in his arms,
drew her full against him. The feel of her
breasts against his
sweat-slickened chest, of heated skin
against heated skin,
her hips cradled hard and close between his
thighs, the fit
magnificently perfect. arousing ...
Driven by the promise of it, he kissed
her-deeply, ravenously-
and intoxicated by the unstinted passion of
her
welcome, the ache in his soul bloomed into
overpowering
desire. There was only the throbbing
hardness in his loins
and the desperate thundering of his heart,
the aching need to
lay her down and lose himself in her.
His conscience weakly struggled against the
tide, and in
the frantic heartbeat he took to tamp it
down, the world beyond
them stridently intruded.
"Peacocks," Alex whispered, gazing
at him, her breathing
ragged, her lips swollen from his kisses.
Someone was here. The realization brought
rational
thought crashing back to the front of his
brain. "They can
live after all," he proclaimed,
abruptly setting her away and
solidly on her feet. He couldn't resist and
kissed her
soundly, quickly, one more time as he
stepped around her.
Snatching up his shirt, be rammed his arms
into both sleeves
at once, saying, "I'll distract and
delay while you put your
clothes back together."
She didn't say anything and he looked over
at her while
frantically buttoning up. She stood there, watching
him, a
dazed, contented smile on her face;
"Dress, darling," he
co
mmanded, jamming
his shirttail into his waistband. He
snatched up his coat and her smile slowly
grew.
Jesus, she was too delicious to leave. He
was too damn
tempted to go anywhere near her. but
if
he didn't jolt her out
of her reverie ... “Alex!"
With a slight start, her gaze came to his,
focused and
aware. He backed toward the door, feasting
on the sight of
her for as long as he could. "I'll see
you at dinner." With a
wink,
he added,
"Preferably not that much of you. Not then,
anyway."
She covered her breasts as best she could
with her hands
and laughed.
Exhaling long and hard, he turned around and
walked out
before she shredded what little of his
common
sense she'd
left him.
Chapter 15
Aiden stood in the shadows just outside
the
carriage house,
letting the afternoon air cool
his
blood and
draw
his senses
down from the heights. Inside Mohan and
Barrett talked,
their voices made low and their words made
indistinct by
their distance and the stable wall. He didn’t
care what they
were saying. What they were doing and where
they were in
the stable wasn't important unless they
started toward the
door.
Until they did, though, he needed the time
to close away
the delicious memories of Alex, to let the
hardness in his
loins ease. The last thing in the world he
wanted was to have
to deal with Barrett before he had the mask
of cool composure
firmly in place. His relationship with Alex
was private
and personal, intensely so, and was going to
remain that
way.
It
wasn't something he was willing to share with Barrett.
Or anyone else for that matter. Alex would
die of mortification
if she thought anyone knew.
Aiden narrowed his eyes and stared absently
at the back
of the house, considering
his
squirming conscience. All
right, so dying of mortification was a bit
of an overstatement.
She'd be embarrassed and then in the way
that was so
stunningly, uniquely her, she'd move past
it, smile wickedly,
say something about experiencing the divine,
and leave him
standing there blushing and breathless.
And, as long as he was being disgustingly
honest with
himself, it wasn't any abiding concern for
Alex's reputation
that motivated
him
to keep what passed between them a secret,
either. If he'd cared all that much about
it, he'd have
kept his wits about him and wouldn't have
let their interlude
in the kitchen go as far as it had. They
were damn lucky that
no one had walked in on them.
If
it weren't for the peacocks'
warning ...
He shook his head to dispel the image and
raked his fingers
through his hair. No, how badly he'd wanted
her - craved
her - had been his overriding thought as
he'd
unbuttoned her bodice. And at her first gasp
of pleasure...
He hadn't deliberately abandoned control;
he'd lost it. And
that was the problem, what he didn't want
Barrett or anyone
else in the world to know.