night before, either. They shared that lack of sleep, and all that had occurred to cause it. It was a silly thought, but it gave her a false sense of closeness with him. They were becoming friends. She’d had few opportunities to make friends aside from her grandparents. She’d been friends with Anna and John, but this was different. She and Alex had shared the adventure of last night. The first true adventure of her life.
It made it safer to admit the truth—well, something close to the truth. She’d never admit her fear to him.
“I suppose I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
“I behaved in a totally…” She took a deep breath, not wanting to put the truth into words. But he deserved an explanation, even if it would kill her to utter it. She closed her eyes and turned away from him. “That—in the alleyway—was the most sluttish thing I can imagine ever doing.”
Now that, at least, was complete truth.
“It was fairly sluttish.” He laughed as he touched her thigh. “That’s what made it so beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
“It was the stuff of a gentleman’s daydreams.” He caressed her thigh, sending sparks up to her core. “You were really embarrassed by that?”
“Goodness, yes.” Her words came out husky, throaty, for he was brushing his fingertips upwards along her skirt. Talking about how easily he’d wrung pleasure from her was heady enough. Having him touch her whilst talking about it was completely intoxicating.
He skimmed his fingers up over her hips and settled them low on her mid-section, tracing small circles. “You have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of.”
He spoke almost in a whisper, the very lowness of his pitch making his words more intimate. Heat pooled there beneath his touch; wetness flowed from between her legs.
And heat flashed over her face. “Well, now you know why I ran, so we don’t have to speak of it ever again.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “If only I could stop thinking of it. But it’s embedded in my mind now. I had to palm myself off this morning—twice. That’s why I am so damned late now.”
She caught her breath. His touch and his blunt speech were too heady. They made her dizzy. Speaking like that—so crudely—should have disgusted her. But the thought that she had driven a man like him to seek sexual self-solace made her mouth drop open and she turned to gape at him.
He grinned at her. “It did me absolutely no good.”
He took her hand and led it to the fall of his pantaloons and pressed it there. He was huge and hard. A new wave of hunger arose in her, like fire tingling over her breasts, tightening her nipples before racing down to increase the flow of moisture from her core.
“You see how you affect me. Yet, I’ll not have our first time be me climbing all over you in a rolling carriage.” He squeezed her hand over his erection and it surged against her touch as if belying his words.
How many nights had she lain in her bed, touching herself, longing for a lover of her own? She’d always felt such shame over it in the daylight.
But here in the daylight, speaking so plainly with him, the shame receded. He made it seem the most natural thing in the world to feel desire. Heavens, he must have inspired so much of it in his life—of course he would know. Of course he would be so comfortable with lust.
However, she’d better keep her head.
He wasn’t her lover—he certainly wasn’t her bridegroom.
And he only spoke to her thus because he thought she was a harlot. Which she supposed she must already be, having agreed to let this man bed her in return for getting her things back.
Yet she’d never felt more alive than at that moment, with every particle of her awake and tingling with joy to be sharing such unbelievable intimacies with him. It wasn’t about the money now. Not completely. She longed to let this intimacy take its natural course and allow him initiate her into lovemaking.
The
It made it safer to admit the truth—well, something close to the truth. She’d never admit her fear to him.
“I suppose I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
“I behaved in a totally…” She took a deep breath, not wanting to put the truth into words. But he deserved an explanation, even if it would kill her to utter it. She closed her eyes and turned away from him. “That—in the alleyway—was the most sluttish thing I can imagine ever doing.”
Now that, at least, was complete truth.
“It was fairly sluttish.” He laughed as he touched her thigh. “That’s what made it so beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
“It was the stuff of a gentleman’s daydreams.” He caressed her thigh, sending sparks up to her core. “You were really embarrassed by that?”
“Goodness, yes.” Her words came out husky, throaty, for he was brushing his fingertips upwards along her skirt. Talking about how easily he’d wrung pleasure from her was heady enough. Having him touch her whilst talking about it was completely intoxicating.
He skimmed his fingers up over her hips and settled them low on her mid-section, tracing small circles. “You have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of.”
He spoke almost in a whisper, the very lowness of his pitch making his words more intimate. Heat pooled there beneath his touch; wetness flowed from between her legs.
And heat flashed over her face. “Well, now you know why I ran, so we don’t have to speak of it ever again.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “If only I could stop thinking of it. But it’s embedded in my mind now. I had to palm myself off this morning—twice. That’s why I am so damned late now.”
She caught her breath. His touch and his blunt speech were too heady. They made her dizzy. Speaking like that—so crudely—should have disgusted her. But the thought that she had driven a man like him to seek sexual self-solace made her mouth drop open and she turned to gape at him.
He grinned at her. “It did me absolutely no good.”
He took her hand and led it to the fall of his pantaloons and pressed it there. He was huge and hard. A new wave of hunger arose in her, like fire tingling over her breasts, tightening her nipples before racing down to increase the flow of moisture from her core.
“You see how you affect me. Yet, I’ll not have our first time be me climbing all over you in a rolling carriage.” He squeezed her hand over his erection and it surged against her touch as if belying his words.
How many nights had she lain in her bed, touching herself, longing for a lover of her own? She’d always felt such shame over it in the daylight.
But here in the daylight, speaking so plainly with him, the shame receded. He made it seem the most natural thing in the world to feel desire. Heavens, he must have inspired so much of it in his life—of course he would know. Of course he would be so comfortable with lust.
However, she’d better keep her head.
He wasn’t her lover—he certainly wasn’t her bridegroom.
And he only spoke to her thus because he thought she was a harlot. Which she supposed she must already be, having agreed to let this man bed her in return for getting her things back.
Yet she’d never felt more alive than at that moment, with every particle of her awake and tingling with joy to be sharing such unbelievable intimacies with him. It wasn’t about the money now. Not completely. She longed to let this intimacy take its natural course and allow him initiate her into lovemaking.
The
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