Let It Snow (43 page)

“Very well, my lord,” she whispered. Her breasts bounced as she slid back on the bed. When she parted her legs, she lifted the hem of her dress and he watched, enthralled, as the gilded fabric and petticoats skimmed their way up her creamy thighs.

“Are you sure you are not a courtesan?” he asked, placing his hands on her knees and spreading her legs farther open. “Or an actress in the theatre? You certainly know how to put yourself on display.”

He kissed her right thigh, then trailed kisses down her calf. With care, he pulled off her silken slippers and stockings and lifted her leg to kiss her ankle. The tender lick along the bone made her sigh and sink into the mattress. Kit massaged her foot for a few minutes before switching to kiss her other leg. He repeated the same process, rubbing her ankle and kissing and licking it before massaging the heel and arch of her foot.

He pressed his knee into the mattress and climbed up to rest between her parted thighs. Parting the petals of her sex, he thumbed the hood, teasing the little nub.

Her gasp encouraged him. Taking his time, he played with her clitoris until she moaned. “Would you like me to stop?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” He blew on the spot, swirling his breath around it. A shiver was his reward.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you are sure or yes, you’d like me to stop?”

As he peered over her body, he could see her glazed eyes. Lazily, he circled the nub again.

“Don’t. Ahh.”

“Hmmm? Speak up, Violet.” Of course, he’d make it that much more difficult for her. Bending down, he gave her clitoris one thorough lick.

“Oh, God.”

“What was that?” He scored the delicate skin with his nail, careful not to scratch.

Her cry was a temptation that was too hard to resist. He took her bud into his mouth, sucking. Then he stopped and watched her.

When he didn’t resume his attentions, she lifted up and stared at him. The unfocused look in her eyes made him smile.

“Why did you stop?” Her breathy voice made his skin tingle.

“Oh, did you want me to continue? You did not say.”

“You bastard.”

“Be careful what you say when I have your body under my command,” he warned. Tenderly, he took her clitoris in his teeth. Violet’s body jerked and thrashed.

“God, Kit.”

“Hmmm. I think I like the sound of that. God Kit. Shall I send off a letter to Mount Olympus to request admission to the pantheon?”

“Evil man.”

That was enough teasing. He resumed licking the hood as his fingers opened her swollen lips and stroked her wet sex. Her slick arousal drenched the tips of his fingers. She was almost ready.

With his thumb, he penetrated her opening, teasing and circling his way in. She was salty under his tongue. With wide sweeps of his tongue, he licked the hood and lips and let his mouth go deeper into her pussy.

As her desire grew, the scent of her arousal washed over him. It mixed in with her sweet floral scent, reminding him of a craggy beach in the midst of a storm.

He slid two fingers into her sex, loving the way the walls of her cunt closed over him. When Violet’s hips rolled toward him, he pumped faster.

Though she was close to release, he wanted so much more. How many times could he make her come before her body gave out? Though he knew that soon his own need would be too great to hold back.

He licked her thigh and bit down on the tender skin as he thrust his fingers deeper.

Violet cried out. He bit her calf, harder this time, knowing the skin was stronger here. “I-I-”

“I know,” he said. She wanted to come.

He debated on whether to give in to her request. He could let her have it now and deny it later, until she was drenched and aching, mindless with the need to be fucked. Or, he could wait and push her so far past control that when he finally took her, she would shatter like glass.

Either way, he would enjoy every minute of it. So would she.

Violet needed a strong hand. She was too used to controlling everything. She needed someone to hand the reins to, someone to break down the walls and then put her pieces back together.

He eased his fingers from her body and climbed up her body until they were face to face. They stared at one another and he put his wet fingers to her lips, daring her to taste herself.

When her lips parted, he could have groaned. She sucked, licked his fingers with eagerness.

Their kiss was hot. Slow. Her hands glided over his shoulders and back, caressing the taut muscles. His nipples brushed over the scratchy gold threads of her dress. He liked it. Maybe he would do the same to hers, to tease them mercilessly, without even touching her skin to skin.

“Why did you stop?” she asked when they came up for air.

“Anticipation will heighten your pleasure,” he said. “Trust me.”

She did not reply and that was as good as acquiescence. The rough pads of his fingers skimmed over the decadent swell of her breasts. He buried his face in the valley for a moment, losing himself in the scent of her skin. As he kissed his way across one mound to the other, her legs wrapped around his.

“I could spend days here,” he said before bending down to suck on her savory skin. He palmed her breast, kneading it. Her body responded so perfectly to his.

He pulled the fabric down to release her nipple. “Mmmm.” With his index finger, he traced her areola, around and around again, until the bud screwed up tight. Kit lost himself, his mind going still and blank as his fingers stroked her skin. There was nothing he had to be, nothing to do but pay homage to her body.

As he circled her other nipple, the stillness increased. Even the sound of her breathing faded into the background. It was just him, worshiping her in a silence he could only describe as peace.

But the moment he realized what it was, it began to slip away.

Could he leave her after this? Could he willingly part with the woman who embodied his every fantasy? He kissed her breast. Massaged it and took it into his mouth.

What if this thing, this peace, only belonged to her? If he stayed, would it stay with him?

Kit blinked. His heart thudded in his ears and his limbs throbbed in unison. He became aware of the warm, supple body beneath his, the sweeping of her leg up and down his thigh. He heard her rasping breath.

He was here with Violet. They were making love. There was nothing else he needed to think about, nothing he needed to know. She was a beautiful woman in his bed, hungry and ready for him.

He knew how to do this. He’d done it before. So why did she feel different?

To stop his thoughts, Kit pressed his lips to hers. He coaxed her mouth open and plunged into the depths of her mouth the way he would soon sink into her body.

The way she moaned and sunk her nails into his skin reminded him of what this was about. She needed him to take control, needed him to drive her over the edge and down into the abyss.

He’d promised her that. Nothing else. He rocked his hips against hers, needing to feel her softness yielding to him. Sharp nails sunk deeper into his flesh.

For now he would give her body what it needed. Tomorrow, he could worry about the rest.

Fever raged through Violet’s body. Kit’s hands, his mouth, his sex aroused her to the point where she knew nothing but the heavy sound of his breathing and her own lust, spiraling higher and higher with every touch.

She wanted him to take her, to ease the torment racking her body.

He would hold it back from her, tease her endlessly until she gave him everything. Her heart, her soul, her body.

Because the game was more than sex. She knew it, though he never said so. He thrived on control, just as she did. Sometimes that worried her, though she trusted him not to physically hurt her. Emotionally? That was another thing altogether.

It was too easy to wake up in the morning, knowing she would see him at breakfast, that she would spend her evening chatting with him about books or singing a ballad together even without a pianoforte or violin to accompany them.

When she went to sleep at night, his face was ever in her mind.

She’d already given him her mind, and her heart, and now her body was imminently to follow. She could not deny him that, not when she’d yearned to have him since the day they’d met.

As they lay chest to chest, their heated bodies writhing together as they kissed and stroked one another, Violet clung to him, knowing there would not be many nights like this.

“I want you naked,” he whispered. His brown eyes swirled with something dark, some element she could not name. Yet the need was there, too. The same need that sparked through her body and tore at her heart.

She loosened her legs and rolled over, so that he could see her back. She lay still, breathing hard, waiting for him to strip her of her clothes the way he’d stripped her of every resistance that she had.

The touch of his fingers on the hooks made her tremble. Her breath caught at the sound of the clasps coming undone. A soft kiss to her shoulder blade sent tingles down her back.

He pulled off the evening gown and untied her petticoat and set them on her chair. When Kit turned her toward him, she couldn’t keep from kissing him. The warmth of his lips, his tongue thawed the fear until it faded to the edges of her mind.

Her bodice felt tight and constricting, but his fingers darted through and around the laces of her stays until the fabric parted. Only her chemise remained. Sometimes she wore those clever drawers, particularly on cool winter days, but lately she’d taken to going without them. Was it because she always knew it would come to this? Ever since that day he’d awoken from fever and it was clear that he was as drawn to her as she to him?

Did she believe in fate? Was her every reaction inevitable? Was there anything she could do or would the story end the same no matter what she tried?

If it meant that she could have him now, that she could be his for as long as tonight would last, then she was willing to take the risk. Kit was her weakness. He was the loose spot in her armor that would unravel the chain mail and expose the vulnerable woman inside.

When Kit threw off the last vestiges of her clothing, Violet shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“No,” she whispered.

Even in the candlelight, his body was exquisite. She longed to trace and kiss every muscle of his taut body. Would there ever be enough time to learn each line and curve?

“You are perfect,” he said as he joined her on the bed, his body moving with the grace and prowess of a lion.

“You flatter me,” she said, giving him a look. “There is no need. But if heaven ever made a more divine form than yours, I should love to see it.” She smiled.

The touch of his palms on her chin warmed every inch of her skin. He kissed one cheek, then the other. “I have never seen any creature more stunning than you.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “There is no other woman I would want to take to bed with me and no other that I would want to wake up to in the morn.”

Her heart clenched. Did he mean the words? She would give in to him whether he’d spoken them or not. She was afraid to hope for anything beyond the next few days.

But if he failed to remember his identity, would he choose to stay with her? If he had nowhere else to go, maybe she could convince him to remain at Welbury Park.

The pad of his finger caressed the edge of her hairline. His gaze, hot and dark, melted her down to liquid.

“Do you trust me?”

She searched his face, but she could not fathom his question. “What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me?” The thumb on her lips made her dart out her tongue to lick it. “Let me ask another way.
Will
you trust me?”

What was he about? Knowing him, he would not tell her until she agreed. “Yes.” She kissed his fingers.

He graced her with a wide grin. “Good.” His long dark lashes came down as his mouth met hers.

Before she could figure out what he was planning, he’d taken his cravat and covered her eyes. Deft fingers tied the blindfold in place.

“Stealthy.”

“Ssssh.”

The weight on the bed shifted and the cool air glided down her body. His warmth was gone. Where was he?

“I pray you do not intend to leave me here like this.”

“Quiet. And be still.” A drawer opened and closed. Then another. She could hear him rustling, searching.

His footsteps moved about the room first close, then over by the window and back again. She listened to the soft scrape of his feet over the floor. Was he walking barefoot? He should be wearing slippers, but she’d caught him before with his bare feet on the cold wood.

She was going to tell him to put them on, but she knew that he would merely ignore her.

She heard the clinking sound of items being set down. What did he intend to do to her?

Her first clue was a cold sensation on her nipple. It scraped across the delicate bud. She squirmed, but strong hands grabbed her arms and she stilled. His thighs straddled hers, caging her in.

Something pointed poked the tip of her other nipple. It circled the center and she gasped. It was not quite pain, but the sensation was sharp, then tingly. Then it was gone.

Though she could hear him breathe, feel his thighs pressed into her, he did not touch her with his hands or anything else. She counted to thirty when there was another sharp scrape across her nipple. She wasn’t sure what he was holding, but it was made of metal.

She braced herself for another stab but instead his nails scored her sides from her underarms down to her hips. “Ahhh.” Again, she squirmed, but his mouth took hers, ravaging every corner of her mouth until she softened under him.

His lips abandoned hers and she sat, breathing hard, waiting. She wanted to wiggle, to relieve the building pressure between her thighs, but she bit down on her lip and willed herself to stay still.

Minutes passed then his hot, wet tongue branded her nipple. He swirled around the areola before flicking his tongue against the tip. She couldn’t control the shiver that passed through her.

His breath fanned her ear. “Be still.”