A Bluestocking Christmas (21 page)

“No,” he growled as desire flared inside him. Damnation, but she’d bewitched him. If she were to ask him for the world at this moment, he’d gladly give her his promise to deliver it to her.

To his surprise, she stepped back from him. He watched in delight as she reached behind her and undid her gown in silence. With the dress undone, she slowly eased one short sleeve down her arm. A moment later, the other sleeve followed suit. If she meant to seduce him, she was doing it superbly. Not even Elizabeth had ever come this close to holding him as transfixed as Ivy was doing right now.
 

Her pink tongue flicked out to moisten her lips, and his groin tightened with a sharp, tug. Christ Jesus, she was seducing him. He swallowed hard as she slowly began to unlace her combination corset. The laces slipped through her fingers like ribbons in the breeze. They fluttered downward until the garment was completely undone.
 

Not once did her gaze leave his face as she removed the combination corset and casually tossed it aside. His mouth went dry at the way her chemise clung to her breasts. Kicking her slippers off, Ivy’s foot pressed into the soft cushion of the bed’s mattress as she lifted the hem of her petticoat to reveal her well-shaped legs encased in black silk. At the top of her thigh, a red garter held her black stockings in place, and Simon’s cock swelled even tighter in his pants. He wanted to pick her up and take her to bed where he intended to keep her for the remainder of the night until he made her confess everything to him. The moment he started to unbutton his coat, Ivy uttered a soft rebuke.

“Not yet,” she whispered.
 

An odd look crossed her face, and a twinge of foreboding tried to pierce its way through the desire holding him hostage. The sensation fled as he watched her unhook her garter then roll the stocking downward at a pace that was maddening. He took a step toward her, but she gestured for him to stop. A seductive smile curled her lips as she tossed the stocking aside and proceeded to remove the other stocking. Another groan rumbled in his chest, and she smiled as she discarded the second stocking.
 

“You’re right, Simon. There is no other man who excites me like you do,” she said in a husky whisper that pulled every one of his muscles taut with need.
 

Slowly, she undid the front of her chemise and slid it off her body until she stood naked in front of him. She was beautiful. Firelight from the hearth made the auburn in her brown hair shimmer in the room’s dim light, while her skin was the palest shade of a newly picked peach. Unable to think straight, he eliminated the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
 

The sweet taste of Madeira wine teased its way across his tongue as he probed the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue danced with his as she pressed her hand against his hard length. He jerked at the touch. She pushed her way out of his embrace, giving him the chance to remove his clothing. His breathing ragged, he fumbled with the tie around his neck as their gazes locked. The smile on her face said she knew how aroused he was. As he tugged the tie off his neck, he watched as a sultry expression settled on her beautiful features. She was a beautiful, voluptuous siren. Her eyelids drooped slightly as she ran her fingertips across her breast and then downward to the apex of her thigh where she stroked herself.
 

“Christ Jesus,” he choked out.

“Don’t you think it’s time you undressed?” she asked softly.

Ripping his jacket off his shoulders, he threw the garment aside as his eyes devoured her across the short space between them. God help him, but the woman had him twisted in knots. The remainder of his clothing quickly fell to the floor until he was free of all constraints. With a growl of need, He swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her on the coverlet, he hovered over her, his arms braced on either side of her.

“Tonight you’re going to forget the name of every man you’ve ever met, except for one,” he murmured. “Mine.”

“As long as you forget all the women you’ve ever known,” she whispered in retaliation.

“The only woman I see is a beautiful librarian.”

He lowered his head to nibble at the side of her neck. Slowly, he worked his way downward until his lips gently clamped down on her breast. With a flick of his tongue, he released her nipple and kissed his way to her belly.
 

“You have a beautiful body, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it.” As his mouth moved downward to kiss the inside of her thigh. She bucked against his touch with a soft whimper. “Tell me what you want, Ivy.”

“Please…”

“Yes?” he murmured with satisfaction.

“Oh God, Simon, I…”
 

Her hips thrust up against his hand as he parted her folds with his thumb to find the nub of her sex. The gentle pressure against her sensitive flesh made her cry out, and he increased the pressure of his thumb against the small nub then slid two fingers inside her. Another sob of pleasure escaped her, and the sound made his cock tug hard its demand for gratification. He suppressed the urge and continued to apply pressure to her sex while stroking her velvet warmth.

 
“Simon, please…”

“Tell me, Ivy,” he rasped. “Tell me how I should pleasure you.”
 

Satisfaction spread its way into every one of his muscles as he stared at the expression of wanton abandon on her face. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against the inside of her thigh. The moan pouring out of her signaled her imminent surrender.

“I want…” Her fingers spiked through his hair as her sweetly curved bottom came up off the bed. “I want your mouth on me, Simon.”

“Like this?” He whispered as his fingers parted her folds, and he slid his tongue up into her heat.
 

Gently, he sucked on her sensitive flesh, his hands gripping her thighs as she writhed beneath him. The musky scent of her desire filled his nostrils, and the bite of her hot cream crossed his tongue as she shuddered against his mouth. Christ Jesus, but she tasted sweet. Eagerly, he licked and sucked at her hot folds. With each stroke of his tongue, she shuddered harder.
 

Suddenly, she released a sharp cry, and liquid heat filled his mouth as she arched upward then collapsed into the mattress her body rippling with tremors. Deep inside, an unknown emotion snagged at him as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and listened to her ragged breathing. There was a beauty to the sound that lightened his heart. Her hand stroked the top of his head in a lazy gesture that declared she was spent from her desire.
 

With a smile, Simon kissed the top of her thigh. There would be no rest for the wicked, and it was time to satisfy the demand of his cock. Rising up on to his knees, he skimmed his hand over her leg. Gently, he bent her leg and lifted her foot to his mouth. As he nibbled at the inside of her foot, she uttered a breathy laugh. With one more nip at the sensitive area, he grinned.
 

“It seems I’ve discovered one of your sensitive spots, which tells me you have more.”

“You’re far too wicked for your own good, my lord,” she said in the husky voice of a siren.

“Then join me in sin, my sweet, because with you I find being wicked immensely satisfying.” Raising her leg higher, he rested it on his shoulder. Her eyes widen with confusion.

“Simon, what are you…”
 

With one quick thrust, he slid into her velvet heat. She gasped in surprise before her body clenched tightly around his cock. The unusual position intensified his pleasure as he filled her completely. He growled deep in his throat. A glove could not have been more snug. Slowly, he retreated then slid into her once more. With each rhythmic thrust, he savored the way her body clung to his. She was slick with heat—and tight.
 

Her insides clutched at him like a vise, tightening his ballocks up into his groin as his engorged flesh cried out for more friction. It demanded more heat. Pumping himself into her, he caught the musky scent of her passion as she shattered over his cock. The rippling spasms of her hot insides grew even hotter with the cream she spilled over him as her back arched, thrusting her lovely breasts upward. With one last thrust, he buried himself inside her heat, and a shout of pleasure roared out of his throat as he came inside her.
 

Time stopped as he throbbed inside her silky depths, content to remain sheathed inside her warmth. He gently lowered her leg, and smiled at the afterglow of passion on her face. The sapphire eyes looking up at him shimmered with an emotion that made his gut knot up tight. She was his. He’d known she would be from the first time he’d seen her, heard her voice. He simply hadn’t expected to become entangled so deeply.
 

His lips grazed the inside of her leg as he guided it down to the mattress. Utter contentment curled her mouth upward. It was a seductive, enticing smile. Sapphire eyes, glowing with the remnants of passion, darkened slightly. The emotion flicking in her gaze vanished so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d even seen it. Falling forward, Simon placed a possessive kiss to her shoulder then fell backward into the mattress.
 

As she snuggled into him, heat spread its way along every muscle in his body. The strength of it surprised him, but he liked the way it made him feel. Lazily, he ran his hand down her arm before it came to rest on her hip. The feel of her soft body against his stirred an unfamiliar emotion inside him.
 

It made him realize he never wanted to let her go. No matter what it took, he’d keep her at his side. His heart slammed into his chest as he realized where his thoughts were taking him. For almost three months, his ability to concentrate on anything other than Ivy had been impossible.
 

Every waking minute was filled with the scent, taste, and feel of her. And then there was the sound of her siren voice that always clutched him firmly in its grasp until he couldn’t think of anything else. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape her. He was preoccupied to the point that one would think him obsessed. Maybe even in love.
 

Simon froze as he struggled to comprehend the thought pounding loudly in his head. What the devil was he thinking? He couldn’t be in love with Ivy. It wasn’t possible. It was simply a physical arrangement that suited them both. Stunned by the revelation, he stared up at the ceiling. It explained everything. The incredible had happened.
 

He loved her.
 

Over the course of their time together, he’d come to realize social rank mattered for little if one was happy. On the heels of that thought came the realization that he faced an uphill battle. Ivy’s contempt for the nobility would make it difficult to convince her of his love let alone to marry him. The gentle sound of her breathing said she’d fallen asleep, and he closed his eyes as happiness rushed through him. This was where he belonged. Where she belonged.
 

The sharp edge of a sword pierced his heart. What if she didn’t feel the same way? Then it wouldn’t matter. She’d never agree to marry him. He shoved his fear aside as he remembered the flash of emotion he’d seen in her eyes just moments ago. It gave him hope. She felt something for him. He was certain of it. The question was whether or not her feelings for him were strong enough to overcome her prejudices. They had to be. He wouldn’t accept anything less.

~~~~

Simon crossed the marbled floor of the London Library to sit down in one of the wing-backed red leather chairs situated near a massive fireplace. The warmth of the blazing fire in the hearth was nothing compared to the heat of the emotions that had passed between Ivy and him since his acknowledgement that he loved her. There had been a subtle, yet distinct, change in their lovemaking.
 

The passion they shared had taken on new depths as he’d silently declared his love for her with each touch. He wasn’t sure if she recognized the change in their relationship, but the sweetness of her surrender to him had softened, leading him to believe she was coming to care for him as well. The desire between them was still strong, but he knew the change in their lovemaking could easily be deceiving.
 

Yet he continued to hold back from declaring himself. He didn’t like admitting fear kept him from telling her he loved her. The thought of losing her scared the hell out of him. Simon picked up the morning daily, and it rustled loudly in the small reading area. For the better half of the morning, he’d spent his time sparring with almost half a dozen partners in an attempt to work through that fear.
 

A fear that he might be making a misstep by reuniting Ivy with her cousin. After that night they spent here in the library, he’d been unsuccessful in making Ivy reveal more of her past. He’d even spoken to Lord Marston trying to learn more about Ivy’s childhood at Parkland Manor. The earl’s impression had been that Ivy’s guardians had treated their niece worse than the lowest ranking house servant.
 

Marston’s observations had given Simon insight into Ivy’s contempt for the nobility. Hadn’t his experience taught him to make similar assumptions about commoners until he’d met Ivy? It would explain Ivy’s resistance to associate herself with members of the peerage. If her aunt and uncle had treated Ivy with the virulent contempt Marston had described, it would be understandable if she shielded herself from further rejection.