Page 38 of Vying for a Viscount
“I’ve never attended one anywhere. Are the ones at the Pantheon and Vauxhall Gardens like this one?”
“No and yes. Masquerade balls usually attract some of society’s seedier residents. Costumes can be just as bawdy. Some people let their inhibitions down, but once the masks are removed,tonstandards are restored, at least for the members of theton.”
“Oh.”
“Is that a goodohor a badoh?”
“Just anoh. Not good or bad. More of an observation.” She inhaled, her eyes fixed on a couple on the dance floor. “He’s cupping her b-b-buttocks.”
She could tell Greyson found her amusing, though he tried to hide it. “Yes, I believe he is. Like I told you, this is a place where people can engage in activities frowned upon in polite society.”
She swallowed her nervous laugh. “Frowned upon? Come now, Greyson, she would be ruined, and the gentleman called out at dawn by a family member.”
“There is that. Good thing nothing like that happens here.”
“Should they not go upstairs?” she suggested.
“Part of the excitement is the prelude. Some people enjoy being on display.”
“But . . .”
“No judging. We are members in attendance, so who are we to condemn another’s actions? Come, let’s dance.”
Letitia allowed Greyson to lead her to the center of the dance floor, where couples surrounded them. He took her into his arms and said, “Follow my lead.” He side-stepped, one, two, three, but they mainly moved in place. The crush left nowhere to go. “Relax.”
She closed her eyes, her arms around his neck, his around her waist, their bodies brushing with each movement. With her eyes closed, she moved to the melody’s rhythm, easing her tense muscles. She leaned into him until they touched more intimately. The swaying of their bodies, moving as one, the warmth of the room, and the intimacy of their mingled breaths transported her to another place, another time, where only the two of them existed.
One song turned into another, the melody similar, so they continued as they were. Greyson stroked his hands up her back, sending awareness throughout her body. Every nerve ending took notice. Heat pooled low in her belly and spread outward. It took effort not to rub her center against his thigh to find release. She was no better than the other couple. What was happening to her? Whatever it was, she would enjoy it while she could. Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. But they had tonight. Greyson, his hands on either side of her hips, pulled her close to him, and she felt the hard bulge in his breeches press against her stomach. A moan escaped her lips. “Forgive me.”
“Forgive me. I’m the one who rubbed against you. But I wanted you to know what it does to me to hold you close. I want you, Letitia. I want to make love to you until neither of us can move, until our bodies and muscles are pleasantly sore. I want to taste your lips, and I don’t mean your mouth.”
She moaned, and her head fell back as she remembered what she had overheard in a drawing room. So it was true?
“I believe now is the perfect time,” he murmured in her ear.
Even though he spoke cryptically, she knew exactly what he meant. “Yes,” she exhaled.
He took her hand in his and led her out of the ballroom and up the stairs to the third floor. The entire time she walked, she didn’t think her feet touched the ground. She glided on anticipation, excitement, and desire. Several people were milling about the dimly lit corridor, but she didn’t make eye contact or say anything to them as Greyson led her to the second-to-last room on the left. He produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it, waving her in ahead of him.
She stepped over the threshold and gasped as Greyson shut and locked the door, then pocketed the key.
“Is something wrong?” he asked as he removed his mask.
She removed her mask to see the room more clearly. “Not at all. The room is beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it. I requested it especially for you.”
“Me?” she blurted. Her eyes followed the trail of red rose petals from the door to the bed, where the white sheets and the turned-down counterpane were sprinkled with them. On one bedside table sat a tray of grapes and strawberries. On the opposite side of the bed stood a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. A low fire in the hearth cast a romantic glow throughout the small bedroom. “You thought of everything. It is beyond romantic.”
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Helowered the hood of her costume, swept her hair aside, and pressed his warm, soft lips to her neck. “You bring out the romantic in me,” he murmured.
A sigh escaped her lips, and her body liquefied. One of Greyson’s hands slid up over her stomach until he cupped one of her breasts, his thumb swirling around her nipple. It hardened instantly under his touch.
“Your breasts are firm and made for my hands. The fit is perfect. May I remove your shepherdess dress? I do love you in it, though.”
“Yes,” she breathed, her body tingling with anticipation.
His large, capable hands untied the rope around her waist, teasingly slow, letting it fall to the floor. Then, with both hands, he reached for the hem of her dress. Again, he went tantalizingly slowly, pulling it up inch by inch, the fabric teasing her oversensitive skin, until it went over her head and fell carelessly to the floor. Cool air kissed her naked body, and she was shocked he’d removed her chemise as well.
