WaltzofSeduction (3 page)

At noon, her two closest friends arrived and she entertained
them in the parlor over tea and cakes.

“He hated the gown,” she told them.

“He could barely keep his eyes off you all night,” Priscilla
said.

“When he came over and took you home early, we just
assumed…” Fran said.

“Well, he hated it. Loathed it. He said it was too bold a
color for me.”

Priscilla laughed softly. “Oh, I see.”

Fran nodded, smiling into her teacup.

“What do you mean?” Sara asked.

“I don’t think he hated the gown or the color, what he hated
was other men seeing you in it.” Priscilla tapped her finger against her cheek.
“What you need is some nice, French lingerie.”

“In claret,” Fran added.

“Yes, and no frills or lace. Your petite shape will not
tolerate it. Something silky and simple, sinfully simple.”

* * * * *

Sprawled in his favorite chair in their private sitting
room, Colin sipped at his brandy. He was determined not to get drunk and lose
control the way he had the night before. However, he did look forward to
waltzing with his wife again. More than he ought. His cock pressed against his
pantaloons, straining at the buttons. He remembered the feel of her firm little
nub beneath his fingers. That had shocked her. He’d heard the cry she’d tried
to suppress. It had been hard to stop. He’d wanted so badly to take the nub in
his mouth, to feel it grow firmer against his tongue. To lathe and suckle her
until she cried out in bliss.

But there were things a gentleman didn’t do to a wife and
that was definitely high on the list. Would he always be in such a fever of
lust around her? Maybe after their children came, when he could see her as a
mother, then he would come to respect her more than he lusted for her. Until
then, he seemed doomed to burn with fire.

At the whisper of her feet, he looked up. She was standing
there calmly, expectancy etched into her fine features. A deep red silk gown
clung to her breasts like a second skin and fell to the floor in a hundred tiny
pleats. He put his brandy aside and approached her.

She gave him a tiny smile, her gray eyes piercing. His
stomach bottomed out in the way only she could make happen. He touched one of
the tiny ribbon straps. “Where did you ever get this?”

“Bond Street.” She tilted her head. “Too bold?”

“No, definitely not too bold for our chambers. You look very
lovely.” And he was in for a severe case of blue balls. He handed her a glass
of wine. “Drink this and then we’ll waltz.”

She smiled and put the glass to her lips. He’d never been so
jealous of a wineglass and he found himself tossing down another glass of
brandy in three swallows.

“Let’s dance,” he said, setting his glass down.

She held out her wrists, her eyes veiled by her lush, dark
lashes.

“What?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to tie them again?”

He hadn’t thought about that. But perhaps they did need more
of that sort of practice. He untied his cravat then slowly, carefully wrapped
her wrists behind her back. A bolt of desire shot through his groin. Her hands
bound like that was such an unwittingly erotic sight. Even more erotic was the
slide of silk over the curve of her waist as he embraced. Her gray eyes were
pools of shimmering silver, holding his gaze while he led her through the
dance.

She was so weightless, feminine and fragile in his arms.
Tonight they moved together in a near-perfect rhythm. As he spun her ’round and
‘round, their bodies seemed to move closer and closer, until her breasts
pressed his chest, their tips like firm little points of fire.

Only a saint could resist kissing her and he was no saint.
He lowered his head and placed his lips on hers. She opened to him, all wine
and sweetness as his tongue thrust against hers. They stopped dancing. He
cupped her face, tilting her head so he could drink deeper, unable to get
enough of her mouth.

Eventually they were forced to part and breathe.

He studied her flushed face and glowing eyes. “What do you
think of kissing like that?”

“I like it. I wish there could be more of it.”

He chuckled. “I can’t keep kissing you. Not like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll want to have you in your bed again.”

Her lashes swept over her eyes and a small smile curved her
soft pink lips. “Yes, perhaps you should.”

His heart raced. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, I shall welcome it. We must create an heir.”

“We must be patient. It will happen in its own good time.”

“Yes, but maybe if you shared my bed more often, it would
happen sooner.”

He couldn’t refute the logic of that. But surely one didn’t
treat a wife like a brood mare any more than one treated her like a whore. Yet
his cock twitched impatiently against her soft belly and his hands touched her
buttocks to press her body closer.

“Colin, may I ask a personal question?”

“Of course, you are my wife.”

A furious blush spread over her face. “Does it always have
to go quickly?”

Her question stunned him and his hands froze. Could he have
been mistaken, all these months? Oh God forbid—but please God, yes.

“No, it doesn’t.” He resumed caressing her silk-clad bottom.
“Are you saying you would like for me to go longer?”

“Well, if it is the proper way to hasten, I don’t think…that
is, I want to do whatever is proper.”

“Here in our chambers, I only care about pleasing you.
That’s all I have ever cared about. If it pleases you that I go slower, I will
certainly do so.”

“It would please me. Very much I think.” She bit her lip,
still blushing.

“Is there something more?”

“The touching, last time…” She took a deep breath. “You
touched me, down there.”

“Yes, and what did you think?”

“I rather liked it.”

God, his blood was on fire for her.

“I think we’ve had enough practice for tonight. Let’s go to
your bed.” He reached to untie her hands.

She looked over her shoulder and frowned. “Must you?”

“What?”

“Nothing…”

“Come now, Sara, tell me what is on your mind.”

“Must you untie me? Last night,” She cleared her throat
delicately. “You kept them tied.”

“I was carried away, my love.”

“Yes, well, it did feel as though I were, I don’t
know…somehow more connected to you.” Her tongue chased over her lower lip.
“More completely
yours
.”

At her last word, his cock became painfully rigid. He
grasped her by the shoulders. “You
are
mine.” He brought his lips down
on hers, kissing her hard and swift. “Never doubt it. I’d smoke a hole through
any man who dared touch you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “My goodness, Colin, you’re scaring
me.”

“Well, how else should I feel about it? You cut quite a dash
at the ball in your red gown. I was forced to watch all those men feasting
their eyes on you.”

“You hated the gown.”

“I loved the sight of you in it and that’s the truth.” He
cupped her soft breasts, grazing his thumbs over the stiffening tips. “So you
want to play games, then?”

“It would be horribly improper, wouldn’t it?”

“Darling, no one is going to know. But let me untie your
hands for now. It must have been wretchedly uncomfortable to have them tied
beneath you. I was quite drunk, you know.”

She nodded.

He untied her wrists and led her to the bed.

Chapter Three

Sara sat on the bed. He had shed his clothes and her gaze
devoured every hard angle and sleekly flexing muscle as Colin approached.

“We’ll leave the lamps on,” he said.

“Yes, just like last night.”

“Here.” He lifted the tiny ribbon straps brushing her
shoulders. She shivered with anticipatory tremors.

“This is lovely, but I prefer if you remove it,” he said.

The nightgown slipped away.

“Here,” he said, taking her hands. He wrapped his cravat
around her wrists, tying them together. Then he pulled them over her head and
secured them to the headboard. “There.”

He stared at her breasts. She felt too exposed and moved
instinctively to cover herself. But her hands wouldn’t budge. She was too
securely tied. Her throat dried. Maybe this wasn’t the thing after all. He
looked a lot fiercer tonight than the night before. But it was too late to back
out. She’d asked him for this. If she asked now to stop, she’d look like a
ninny. She already knew he thought she was the biggest ninny for being too shy
to waltz in front of other people.

He still stared. A thrill of helplessness passed through her.

“They are rather small…aren’t they?” she asked.

“They are perfect little peaches.” His fingertips grazed her
left nipple. It instantly puckered into a tight pebble. Warm pleasure sparked
through her and she gasped in surprise.

He glanced up. His eyes were so dark blue they looked like
sapphires. “I am going to kiss them.”

It sounded almost like a threat. She giggled nervously.

“I am, Sara. I am going to have them in my mouth whole.”

He couldn’t really mean that, could he?

He bent. His lips were soft against her breast. She giggled
again. He pressed quick little kisses on her flesh, leaving a tingling trail of
delight. She sighed and twisted against her bonds. His tongue flicked her
nipple, pure fire flashed through her. “Colin!”

A fierce look fell over his face and he took her nipple into
his mouth and sucked softly. Sensation rocked her. He increased the suction and
a warm burst of pleasure suffused her. Oh, she loved him so much. And she
wanted him. Just like this.

His fingertips brushed over her stomach, describing large,
languid circles that gradually grew smaller and smaller, lower and lower.
Delicious aching coiled tight in her lower belly and wetness began to flow
between her legs. Her hips began to arch up, as if of their own accord.

He opened his mouth wider and took her whole breast into his
mouth just as he’d promised. His fingers brushed her cunny hair. She started.
He released her breast and rose. His lips touched her neck. “Easy now.”

He touched her nub with soft, teasing strokes. The ache there
grew unbearable. A moan escaped her. He rubbed her more firmly, increasing the
speed. Her hips rocked up and down in time with his hand. There was nothing she
could do to still them. The room began to whirl and suddenly a pinwheel of pure
pleasure sucked her breath away.

When she came back to her senses, he was kissing her.

He lifted his head and his eyes were like blue smoke.

“What happened?” she asked, still dazed, her body still
ticking deep inside.

“You came.” He kissed her quickly.

“You knew about this? I mean, before?”

“Yes.” His look turned serious. “I am going to kiss you
there.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Surely not.”

“I am.” He moved smoothly down her body.

His dark head dipped between her legs and she gasped.
“Colin, it can’t be proper.”

His answer was to press a quick kiss to her mons. His breath
was warm against her and his tongue flicked against her nub. To her surprise,
hunger flashed to life. He flicked again. And again.

Flames of pleasure consumed her until she no longer cared if
this was proper or not.

She wanted it. Needed it.

Why had he waited so long to show her this world of
sensation?

“Oh please, please,” she panted, her hips arching up to
press his face. His tongue circled her nub, again and again, swirls of pleasure
that were carrying her away. Then he sucked lightly. Her cunny clenched hard
several times and waves of satisfaction swept through her, so strong she let
out a shriek of joy.

The waves were just starting to diminish when he growled
low, leapt up and mounted her. His knee pushed her thighs wider. He kneeled
between her legs, holding his cock in his hand. Then he put the head to her
entrance. His hands touched her hips and then he thrust, strong and hard.

After several quick strokes, he stopped. “Your legs.” He
lifted them.

“What?” she asked dreamily, her legs dangling at his waist
where he held them.

“Wrap them.” He thrust back and forth. “About me.”

She complied and he drove deeper, touching some part of her
she’d never even been aware of previously. Shock waves jolted through her and
she gripped him tightly with her legs. His lips fastened on her neck, sucking.
She was crying out with his every thrust as he moved faster, harder. The bed
was rocking. She could hear the ropes creaking. His sweat dripped onto her
breasts. The world exploded into white-hot bliss.

* * * * *

She awoke in her bed to the clock chiming.

He was awake, standing naked at the window in the moonlight.

“Colin?”

He turned and came back to the bed. He smoothed the hair
from her face and smiled but in the remaining lamp’s light, his eyes were
grave.

“I have denied you pleasure out of ignorance, but I assure
you I had the best of intentions.” He leaned back on the headboard. “Growing
up, I adored my sister. Worshiped her.”

She sucked in her breath. No one ever spoke of Margaret. She
knew from gossip that his sister had suffered a breakdown of nerves after her
husband died from a fall down the stairs. She held herself quiet, waiting for
him to continue.

“When I was eleven, she married and moved away and I missed
her very much. But she came back within a fortnight past her wedding trip. She
was in quite a state and Father sent for the physician. The physician diagnosed
it as a problem with her nerves, dosed her with laudanum and left. Worried, I
visited her chamber and she told me that the marriage bed was too horrible to
bear.

“She made me promise when I got married I would never, ever
treat my wife like a whore. She said ladies should not be expected to cater to
the base lusts of their husbands. She had never been the type to dramatize
before, so I took her words to heart.”