Pleasure Me (37 page)

She inhaled sharply as his hand slid across her leg to reach the spot just above the apex of her thighs. A familiar liquid warmth dampened the fragile silk drawers. Merciful heaven was he planning to make her have an orgasm right here and now? Her heart slammed into her chest at the deliciously wicked idea. She shuddered. They couldn’t. There was enough scandalous talk about them as it was.

“Please . . .”

“Please what, my lady?”

The confidence in his voice was something she’d never heard before. It reinforced the fact that he’d graduated from inexperienced pupil to devastating seducer. A man capable of enticing her to submit to his bidding. His hand moved again to press into her stomach at a spot just below her corset.

A moment later, his hand tugged forcefully at her drawers, and she gasped out loud with shock. Seconds later, desire spiraled through her belly only to explode in her nether regions as his fingers brushed across the top of her mound. Dear God, she’d never experienced an erotic seduction like this before.

Her entire body tingled with desire, and every touch of his hand intensified the sensation until her breathing was coming in short pants. Suddenly, his fingers parted her folds to lightly stroke the nub between them. The hedonistic caress pulled a low moan out of her.

“You like that, don’t you.” His satisfaction was clearly evident in his words as he moved his hand back to her thigh. She whimpered at his withdrawal.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“A teacher of mine once told me that some women like to hear a man whisper naughty words into their ears.” His teeth nibbled at her earlobe. Her knees gave way, and only his body kept her from sliding to the floor. “Are you one of those women, my lady?”

“Oh God,” she whispered hoarsely. She couldn’t remember any man ever arousing her to such a fevered pitch before.

“Answer me, my lady.” The low growl rumbled in her ear like a distant thunderstorm. A tempest that would most likely strip her of every sense or sensibility she possessed.

“Yes,” she whispered with a ragged breath.

His hips shifted against the back of her thighs, and she could feel the hard length of him leaving its imprint on her buttocks. His fingers threaded with hers against the door as his mouth left a trail of fire across her shoulder. She wanted to kiss him. Needed to feel his mouth on hers, on every inch of her body. She tried to turn toward him, but he easily held her in place.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” The words were harsh against her ear as his hand brought hers downward to touch his stiff erection. “From the first moment I saw you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to bury my cock inside you.”

She gasped at the images his words produced. Only two or three times had he spoken to her in such a manner. In both instances, he’d been uncomfortable, almost shy, using the words. Now, his voice was strong and demanding. He was in complete command of his words and his desire, and that was more shocking than his language.

It sent a frisson dancing down her back as she stroked him through his trousers. Touching him like this only intensified the need inside her. Her body ached for a completion she knew only he could give her. God, she wanted him now. At this moment in time, she didn’t care if someone discovered them here. She didn’t care what people might think. All that mattered was her need to have him inside her bringing her to a climax only he could give her.

“Please, I want—”

“
Want
?” he rasped tightly and with a fervency that thrilled her. “You have
yet
to understand the meaning of the word, my lady. When I’m done with you tonight, your sweet cunny will be weeping for my cock.”

The raw, coarse words sucked the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless. Never in her life had she ever wanted a man so badly. A soft sob ripped from her throat at the realization that for the first time in her life she was no longer in command of her own senses. She was the one out of control and desperate for fulfillment. The abrupt departure of his warmth stunned her.

Still pressed against the door, she waited for some other delicious torment to assault her senses. When that didn’t happen, puzzlement and an intense frustration caused her to stiffen. Slowly, she turned around, her back against the door as her only support because she was certain her legs were still too weak to bear her weight.

In the dim light of the office, she saw Garrick standing a few feet away. A small smile of satisfaction curved his sensual mouth, but it was the blazing desire in his gaze that made her tremble once more. Her hand went to her throat as she stared at him with uncertainty. Why had he stopped? She’d been more than willing to do whatever he’d asked of her.

“I like this game of yours, my lady,” he said in a husky voice filled with amusement. “The anticipation is quite . . . exhilarating.”

“Anticipation?” She stared at him in bewilderment.

“Yes. The expectation of the pleasure to come.”

“To come?” she choked out. He’d teased her into a frenzied state, knowing full well he didn’t intend to satisfy her until later. And the fact that he seemed completely unaffected by his seduction of her was just as frustrating. She wanted to strangle him, while a small part of her took pride in her creation.

“The night is far from over, my lady. I have it from Stratfield himself that I may deliver you home at the earliest possible moment.”

So the game wasn’t over. The confidence in his expression made her want to remind him that he wasn’t the only one who was skilled at seduction. She pushed herself away from the door, determined to show him that he didn’t hold all the cards in this contest. She halted when she was just out of arm’s reach and flicked her tongue out to wet her lips. His reaction was to inhale a sharp breath, and she smiled at him.

“And what is it you think will happen when you take me home, my lord?”

The slow wicked smile curling his lips made her heart skip a beat before it went skidding out of control. The man had become more devastating than she could have dreamed possible the first night she’d initiated him into the art of pleasure.

“I’m going to undress you. Not quickly, but ever so slowly. I intend to worship every inch of your beautiful body with my mouth.” He reached out and trailed one finger along the edge of her jaw. “And I confess the prospect of seeing you naked beneath me excites me immensely. It excites me to know that you will be mine and mine alone.”

It was nothing less than a declaration of possession. He was stating emphatically that she was his, and no other man could have her as long as he wanted her. The flame she’d tried to quench earlier sprang from the embers as hope flared to life inside her.

“Then perhaps we should return to the party for a reasonably discreet time until you can escort me home, my lord,” she whispered in a sultry tone. “The thought of us pleasuring each other is exciting to me, too. Particularly when I know how delicious you will taste when my mouth is sucking on you.”

He took a quick step toward her and kissed her hard before he released her just as hastily. Withdrawing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and opened it.

“
Go
.
Now
. Before I forget we’re playing a game and take you right here on the desk.”

The strangled sentence indicated he’d reached his breaking point, and the sound relieved her. The nonchalance he’d displayed after his seduction of her and even when she’d tried to seduce him illustrated nothing more than an iron will on his part. It was a relief to know she’d affected him far more than he’d allowed her to believe.

Without a word, she hurried past him, her body tingling as she heard the door close behind her. Weak-kneed, she moved down the hallway as quickly as she could. She had no idea how long she’d been gone from the gathering, and she was certain her disheveled appearance was bound to raise eyebrows.

Ahead of her, she could hear the sound of voices, and the sight of a mirror on the wall made her draw in a breath of relief. She paused to examine her image and stared with something akin to shock. There was a glow to her face she’d never seen before. Even her eyes sparkled, and she tried to dismiss the cause.

Lust was the reason she looked like a woman in her late twenties or early thirties, nothing more. Quickly, she pinned several strands of hair that had fallen down to brush the side of her face. Satisfied that she’d repaired her appearance sufficiently to not arouse too much suspicion, she forced herself to enter the Rothschilds’ main salon.

An empty chair just inside the parlor’s doorway seemed the perfect place to sit quietly in hopes that no one had noticed her missing. Relief spread through her as no one turned to study her with suspicion, and after a minute or two, she was able to breathe much more easily.

Allegra met her gaze from across the room and sent a conspiratorial smile in her direction as Garrick appeared in the doorway. Heat flooded her cheeks at her friend’s amused expression. She didn’t look at him as he came to her side and bent his head.

“Plead a headache in a few minutes,” he rasped. “If you wait any longer, I’ll drag you out of here in spite of the scandal it will cause.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he walked away, his stride rigid. As she watched him join their hostess, Ruth marveled at the fact that he wanted to be alone with her so badly that he was willing to cause a scene. A rustle of silk caught her attention, and she glanced at the woman who’d sat down next to her. She immediately went rigid in her seat as she met Louise Campton’s malicious gaze of amusement.

“My dear Lady Ruth, might I say you look lovely this evening. It’s obvious the young baron’s attentions have done wonders for your spirits.”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Campton,” Ruth murmured as she turned her gaze back toward the small gathering in front of her.

“I only wish I had half your daring.”

“Daring?” She straightened in her chair as she saw Garrick turn his head to look in her direction.

“Of course.” Louise sounded like a cat toying with a bird caught in its claws. The woman’s purring voice set Ruth on edge. “After all, there are few women in the Set who have such adventuresome natures that they take a younger man for a lover.”

There it was. Louise’s reason for sitting next to her. She thought to make her feel uncomfortable for being with Garrick. She refused to listen to the woman’s prattle. Louise was no better than the
Town Talk
or other scandal sheets. She turned her head and sent the woman a disdainful look.

“My relationship with Lord Stratfield is no one’s concern, even if there are a few years’ difference in our ages.”

She arched her eyebrow in disdain, hoping the woman would go away and leave her be. The headache Garrick had told her to plead was quickly becoming a reality.

“A
few
years?” Louise laughed unpleasantly. “Oh you poor dear. I thought you knew. Lord Stratfield is much more your junior than a few years. He’s a good twelve years younger than you.”

Ruth couldn’t remember ever being so cold. It was as if someone had dropped her in an icy lake. Her gaze shifted downward, expecting to find her clothes drenched with water. Frozen in place, she struggled to absorb Louise Campton’s words.
Twelve years.

The woman was wrong. She had to be. Garrick couldn’t possibly be any more than three to five years younger than her. He was far too mature to be a man of . . . she quickly calculated the number in her head. Dear God, he was only twenty-nine.

Her stomach started to churn. Twenty-nine. No wonder the scandal sheets had been so vicious. She was in love with a man young enough almost to be her son. She gripped the seat cushion beneath her as she fought not to faint.

Love.
How could she possibly be in love? The nausea made her clutch at her stomach as she looked up and saw Allegra heading toward her with a look of concern on her face. Beside her, Louise Campton leaned toward her with contrived worry.

“Are you all right, Lady Ruth?”

“Yes,” she said hoarsely and shook off the woman’s artificial gesture of concern. “I think I ate something this evening that doesn’t agree with me.”

“Let me call for someone to assist you. Lord Stratfield, perhaps?”

“Mrs. Campton, there you are. Lady Rothschild was just looking for you. I believe she wants to introduce you to someone.” Allegra’s tone was clipped as she gave the woman seated beside Ruth a cold look of dislike. With a haughty smile, Louise Campton rose to her feet and glanced down at Ruth.

“I do hope you’ll forgive me any pain I might have caused you, Lady Ruth. I can assure you it was unintentional.”

Again, the woman reminded her of a cat. Only this time she’d finished toying with her prey and swallowed it whole. Ruth choked back the bile rising in her throat and forced herself to meet the woman’s malevolent gaze.

“You give yourself far too much credit, Mrs. Campton. But I thank you for the service you so willingly provided me. Generosity is so contrary to your nature.”

It amazed her that she even had the wherewithal to insult the woman, but she could tell her words struck home as Louise’s head snapped back. With a vicious glare at her and then Allegra, the woman stalked off as though she was the one who’d been injured during the exchange. Sitting down in the chair Louise had vacated, Allegra took Ruth’s hand and uttered an appalled gasp.

“Dear God, your hands are like ice. What did that woman say to you?”

Ruth didn’t answer as she tried to organize the chaotic thoughts flying through her head. How could she have not realized he was twelve years younger than her? She fought back tears of humiliation. Why hadn’t she read about his age in the scandal sheets? How could she have missed that? She turned to Allegra.

“Did you know?” she rasped.

“Did I know what, dearest?”

“Did you know that Garrick is twelve years younger than me?” She watched her friend shake her head.