Page 34 of The Earl Next Door
“You deserved it, too.”
He paused and looked into her eyes. “That’s why I came to apologize for causing you such duress.”
A soft breath of laughter echoed past her lips. “Consider it accepted and keep kissing me.”
Lyon chuckled softly, huskily, kissing her cheek, over her chin and down her neck again, past the hollow of her throat to where the lapels of her robe folded together between her breasts.
Their conversation didn’t hinder or wane the urgency in their kisses. His caresses were impatient and fervent yet gentle and confident as he parted her robe to taste and cool the heated skin between her breasts. She allowed him to walk her backward a few steps until her weight leaned against the wall. His lower body pressed against hers as one of his hands came up to caress her breast beneath the velvet. Adeline savored his touch and willingly accepted the hardness of the rigid bulge hidden beneath his trousers and trembled.
She pulled at the shoulders of his coat, wanting to feel the strength of his arms, shoulders, and chest. As if annoyed with the tight confines of the garment, he swiftly shrugged out of it and slung it away. Adeline explored the firm muscles of his back beneath the fine linen of his shirt and waistcoat. Their kisses and caresses were tempestuous, powerful, and deliciously uncontrolled. Movements were soft but eager, passionate but not harsh.
Complying in earnest with her demands, Lyon pushed her robe off one shoulder. It fell open at the bodice and skirt, leaving only the long sleeves and knotted sash to hold it onto her body. His hand covered her breast with teasing, beautiful strokes meantto arouse and satisfy her before taking her nipple into his mouth.
Gasps, sighs, and moans blended, dissolved, and were swallowed into their heated passion.
Adeline unashamedly craved and enjoyed the pleasure she received from his touch, taste, and the ragged sounds of his breathing.
Her body trembled again and she whispered, “Yes, yes.”
The intensity and eagerness of his kisses, his wanting, thrilled her as she matched his hunger. A deep, torturous yearning for more settled inside her. With their hands working together, his trousers were unbuttoned and lowered.
Without words, without warning, without waiting, he filled her. Moved inside her, bringing her to the brink of desire with each thrust. Adeline gasped with exquisite bliss each time. She slid her hands down to grab his buttocks firmly in her hands, intending to see he didn’t stop until he finished what he’d started.
Seconds later an intensifying bundle of complex and twisted sensations exploded inside her. She felt as if her body had turned into liquid fire. And it was oh so good, forceful and satisfying. She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her as the tremors of gratification continued. Moments later, after a long, desperate-sounding sigh Lyon trembled and gently settled against her.
It was over, but Adeline’s senses were still reeling from the depth of their passion and the reward of its ending. She was out of breath, but the faltering eruptions of passion lingered, teasingly active, and she laid her forehead against his linen-covered chest.
Being in Lyon’s arms, in his possession was more than she could ever have expected. It was what she’d hoped for and desired when she’d married, but had never received. With the earl, she’d felt wanted and equal. Not groped and used. She smiled and had the wild urge to laugh victoriously from the sheer thrill of what she’d experienced from all they’d shared.
But she contained her happiness, and with her face nestled in the crisp folds of his neckcloth, she whispered softly, “I’ve been waiting for that.”
“From me, or just anyone?” he asked, his lips resting just above her ear.
His question surprised her and she lifted her head. Their gazes met. He was serious. Could he tell she’d been starving for just the kind of passion she had felt in his arms? That she’d never had the ending joy of coming together with a man before.
Adeline moistened her lips and swallowed. “I don’t know,” she answered; but as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren’t true. She was sure it was Lyon she wanted. No other. There had been opportunities to be with other men, but she’d never been tempted. Why she had answered differently, she really couldn’t fathom. Perhaps it was because she was reeling from the aftermath of having been completely satisfied for the first time.
His tight hold on her loosened a little and his eyes gazed into hers. “Is this the only time you’ve been with a man since becoming a widow?” he asked.
“Yes,” she admitted and lowered her lashes. It was easier to admit than she’d thought it would be, so shelifted her lids and added, “I didn’t expect it to go so fast.”
“It’s been a long time. For both of us.” He smiled, bent his head, and kissed the hollow of her throat softly. “Just as the poets say absence makes the heart grow fonder, abstinence makes desire flame bright but burn quickly.”
She wanted to stay wrapped in the embrace of the strong, solid man holding her. It would be so easy to take hold of his hand and lead him to her bedchamber, but instead, she gently pushed against his chest. Seeming reluctant, he stepped back and turned away to adjust his clothing. With steady fingers she closed her robe and retied her sash.
Lyon looked around the room and then walked over to a tray that held a pitcher of water and glasses. Obviously not wanting water, he opened the top doors of her secretary and from the depths of the cabinet pulled out a bottle of brandy. He poured a small amount into one of the glasses and walked back over to her.
“Drink this.” He held it toward her. “It will help settle you about what just happened between us.”
Adeline’s breathing grew shallow as she looked at the amber liquid. She had to force herself not to back away from it and the sudden memories it stirred in her mind.
“I thought you poured it for yourself,” she said quietly.
“I will need nothing to help me sleep tonight,” he answered and extended the drink closer to her.
How many times had she taken a glass of brandyher husband held out to her? Too many to count. Not because she wanted to drink it but because Wake insisted it was the only liquid strong enough to hide the vile taste of whatever concoction his latest apothecary had created for her to drink. A brew of herbs and things she didn’t want to think about. All of them were guaranteed to make her conceive.
Nothing had ever worked.
