The Libertine by Saskia Walker Page A

remain levelheaded was slipping away. I’m
falling under his spell.
    When he looked her way, the steady warmth he conveyed only
confirmed it.
    “There.” He gestured beyond.
    Between the trees she saw it, a hidden glen, the floor of which
was covered in bluebells. The glen was sheltered, the breeze only shifting the
highest leaves overhead. Sunlight glinted through the leaves and dappled across
the flowers. It made the ground seem almost as if it was a moving, living,
breathing thing. Chloris was awestruck by the sight. “Oh, Master Lennox, it
truly is a beautiful place.”
    “Please, my given name will suffice.”
    “Lennox,” she whispered, enjoying the implied intimacy.
    “Are you ready?”
    She nodded, breathless with anticipation. If her experience was
anything like the night before and it happened here in this beautiful place, so
hidden and precious, she knew instinctively that it would be magical.
    He led her again, through the bluebells to the very center of
the carpeted spot. Her riding skirt was tugged by the thick foliage, and as they
carved a narrow path through the blooms the scent permeated the air around them,
stimulating her to inhale deeply.
    When Lennox drew to a halt, he touched her on the shoulders to
still her. Then he began to chant in that secret language of his, moving around
her while she stood still.
    Chloris blinked, swept up quickly into the moment.
    The more he stepped around her, the more bound up in him and
his strange chant she became. The stir of the breeze through the treetops
sounded louder, too, as did the distant birdsong. The scent of the flowers grew
stronger and the moss grew denser, and her pulse raced, her skin tingling with
excitement. This time she did not fight it, she embraced it.
    Vitality plumed inside her, rising like a vapor to warm every
part of her.
    Losing herself, she looked up through the canopy of leaves and
felt the sun on her face. Sinking and rising all at once, she felt as if she had
joined with the forest around her and breathed as one with it. Then she felt his
fingers in her hair, loosing it.
    Lennox . Craving him, desire beat an
urgent rhythm in her blood.
    His eyes were bright and lust-filled. She stared up at him,
transfixed. It had affected him, too, she could see that. Trembling wildly she
clutched at his shirt. Her knees went weak under her. She faltered. Lennox
caught her in his arms.
    “Lie down,” he instructed, his tone low and suggestive.
    She wanted to lie down, lie with him. When she nodded, he
lowered her safely to the ground. She sank down gratefully.
    “Rest back, I’ll hold you.”
    His voice was reassuring and she gave in to it readily, resting
on the bed of succulent bluebells. The fleshy stems and petals around her seemed
a bed too blissful, their musk too inviting. Then he was lying alongside her and
when she turned to him their gazes locked.
    She reached out, touched his jaw with her hand. “Do you need to
kiss me again, to make it work?”
    “Aye, that I do.” The look he gave her—pleasured and brooding
all at once—made her ache for more.
    Moving over her, his mouth covered hers, his hard body pressing
against hers, heightening her need. His kiss was hungry and Chloris answered in
kind. She held tight to him, her body moving under his, her hips arching up.
When she felt his hard length pressed against her thigh, she moaned with
longing. At her center she clutched as if reaching for him, reaching for that
part of him that could join them.
    He lifted up onto his arms, looking down at her, but he did not
move away.
    Nor did she ask him to.
    Between her thighs a riotous pulse beat, her folds growing
slick and humid with desire. The need for relief was overwhelming. The sunlight
was behind his head and Chloris stared up at his shadowed face, wanting more,
wanting him. All she could think of was what it might feel like to have that
hard length of his driving inside her.
    “You are such a temptation,” he whispered.
    She had to