his neck. She took a deep breath. Linen and leather, warm skin
and Bay Rum. God, but he smelled good. She swallowed hard and took a shuddering breath.
This was supposed to be a contest of wills. Why had hers utterly deserted her? She’d desired other men. Enjoyed their touch,
but this was different. Her friend Lady Ligonier would smirk and put it down to her prolonged bout of abstinence. But she’d
be wrong.
It was desire—raw, hot, and irresistible—spiraling between them. Hers fed on his; his fanned hers to greater heights. One-sided,
it was merely lust. Her coin of trade. Shared, it was another thing entirely. A passion that almost frightened her.
Leo nudged Viola’s head up from his shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered, finally settling half-open over irises that had darkened
to azure in the candlelight. Curls tumbled about her face, transforming her once more into the Italian goddess of their first
encounter.
He dipped his head, capturing her mouth with his. Hertongue met his, dipped and stroked. Their kiss intensified, becoming a battle all its own. Her hand twisted in his hair, ripping
his queue free of its ribbon.
Leo surged out of the chair, sweeping Viola off his lap and into his arms. He strode toward the door. Carrying his acknowledged
mistress through the house would hardly shock his all-male staff, and Viola’s maid must be inured to such experiences.
Once in his room, Leo kicked the door shut behind him. Viola slid out of his arms, regaining her feet. He yanked the hook
and eyes that fastened her bodice with enough force to bend the last few. The tapes that held her skirts were quickly dispensed
with, as were her stays and shift. He left her standing in nothing but her stockings and garters.
Blood pounded in his ears in deafening waves. Viola raised her chin, gaze holding his, skin flushed and damp and radiant.
He wanted to push her beneath him and thrust into her, to lose himself in her, to ride her to sweet incoherence. But he wasn’t
going to do so, at least not tonight.
Leo pulled her toward the bed, tipped her onto it, and sank to his knees. He wrapped his arms about her, slid her forward
to the edge, and leaned in to take one taut nipple between his teeth.
Viola hissed. Her knees gripped his ribs, squeezing, tugging him closer, trapping him against her. The damp heat of her cleft
burned through the fabric of his shirt. His cock pushed against the layers of linen and leather between it and its goal.
Leo opened his mouth wider, took more of the flesh ofher breast between his teeth, and sucked hard enough that Viola whimpered. His cock was going to have to wait. Tonight was
about her. Tonight, he was dedicated to her complete seduction, her pleasure, and her surrender. Simply fucking her wouldn’t
achieve any of his goals, though the tight ache in his balls and his painfully hard erection argued against his plan.
Viola clutched at his shoulders, hands pulling at his shirt. “Please, Leo. Please.”
“Please, Leo, what? Please, Leo, touch you?” He flicked his tongue over her ruched nipple. “Please, Leo, taste you?” He blew
across the wet peak. “Please, Leo, take you?”
Leo cupped her breast, caught the tight bud of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed. Her eyelids fluttered,
her spine arched, and her lips parted. Sweet Jesus, he wanted to fuck her.
He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and Viola’s nostrils flared as she breathed in sharply. Her legs gripped him, pulling
him in. She leaned forward and brushed her cheek against his like a cat greeting its mate.
“Please, Leo.” Her words slid across his skin, scalding hot. “Taste me.”
Her lips found his, her tongue invading his mouth. Leo slid away from the kiss, mouth trailing down her neck, over her breasts
and stomach. He pushed her back onto the bed and held her there, arm across her hips while he shouldered apart her thighs.
Her secret folds were slick
and Bay Rum. God, but he smelled good. She swallowed hard and took a shuddering breath.
This was supposed to be a contest of wills. Why had hers utterly deserted her? She’d desired other men. Enjoyed their touch,
but this was different. Her friend Lady Ligonier would smirk and put it down to her prolonged bout of abstinence. But she’d
be wrong.
It was desire—raw, hot, and irresistible—spiraling between them. Hers fed on his; his fanned hers to greater heights. One-sided,
it was merely lust. Her coin of trade. Shared, it was another thing entirely. A passion that almost frightened her.
Leo nudged Viola’s head up from his shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered, finally settling half-open over irises that had darkened
to azure in the candlelight. Curls tumbled about her face, transforming her once more into the Italian goddess of their first
encounter.
He dipped his head, capturing her mouth with his. Hertongue met his, dipped and stroked. Their kiss intensified, becoming a battle all its own. Her hand twisted in his hair, ripping
his queue free of its ribbon.
Leo surged out of the chair, sweeping Viola off his lap and into his arms. He strode toward the door. Carrying his acknowledged
mistress through the house would hardly shock his all-male staff, and Viola’s maid must be inured to such experiences.
Once in his room, Leo kicked the door shut behind him. Viola slid out of his arms, regaining her feet. He yanked the hook
and eyes that fastened her bodice with enough force to bend the last few. The tapes that held her skirts were quickly dispensed
with, as were her stays and shift. He left her standing in nothing but her stockings and garters.
Blood pounded in his ears in deafening waves. Viola raised her chin, gaze holding his, skin flushed and damp and radiant.
He wanted to push her beneath him and thrust into her, to lose himself in her, to ride her to sweet incoherence. But he wasn’t
going to do so, at least not tonight.
Leo pulled her toward the bed, tipped her onto it, and sank to his knees. He wrapped his arms about her, slid her forward
to the edge, and leaned in to take one taut nipple between his teeth.
Viola hissed. Her knees gripped his ribs, squeezing, tugging him closer, trapping him against her. The damp heat of her cleft
burned through the fabric of his shirt. His cock pushed against the layers of linen and leather between it and its goal.
Leo opened his mouth wider, took more of the flesh ofher breast between his teeth, and sucked hard enough that Viola whimpered. His cock was going to have to wait. Tonight was
about her. Tonight, he was dedicated to her complete seduction, her pleasure, and her surrender. Simply fucking her wouldn’t
achieve any of his goals, though the tight ache in his balls and his painfully hard erection argued against his plan.
Viola clutched at his shoulders, hands pulling at his shirt. “Please, Leo. Please.”
“Please, Leo, what? Please, Leo, touch you?” He flicked his tongue over her ruched nipple. “Please, Leo, taste you?” He blew
across the wet peak. “Please, Leo, take you?”
Leo cupped her breast, caught the tight bud of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed. Her eyelids fluttered,
her spine arched, and her lips parted. Sweet Jesus, he wanted to fuck her.
He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and Viola’s nostrils flared as she breathed in sharply. Her legs gripped him, pulling
him in. She leaned forward and brushed her cheek against his like a cat greeting its mate.
“Please, Leo.” Her words slid across his skin, scalding hot. “Taste me.”
Her lips found his, her tongue invading his mouth. Leo slid away from the kiss, mouth trailing down her neck, over her breasts
and stomach. He pushed her back onto the bed and held her there, arm across her hips while he shouldered apart her thighs.
Her secret folds were slick
Similar Books
