Page 60 of Sinfully Daring

“J-Just one,” she agreed breathlessly, sliding her hands into his hair and pulling him closer.

It was only one kiss, he reasoned sometime later, for their mouths had not yet parted but the kiss was growing hotter, deeper, and he was on fire. Rosamund shifted on his lap, her skirts billowing up and getting in the way. Sebastian pressed them back down with a growl of annoyance as she wriggled again, moving to straddle his lap. Oh. Oh, that was….

He gasped as she shifted closer, her sex cradling his erection so perfectly he forgot how to breathe. Rosamund sucked in a breath, her eyes widening as she discovered how beautifully they fit together.

“Oh!” She clutched at his shoulder, a look of such innocent surprise in her eyes that Sebastian grinned.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispered.

She nodded and gave an experimental push with her hips, increasing the pressure. Her breath hitched and Sebastian groaned, resting his head on her shoulder.

“It does. Very good,” she whispered, and did it again.

Dropping the hands that held her waist to her hips, Sebastian held her tight against him and tilted his hips, rubbing his cock repeatedly against her sex as colour rose high on her cheeks, and she closed her eyes.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered, knowing he could not do this for long, he was too close already. “I need to be inside you, beautiful girl.”

She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him fiercely and making soft little erotic sounds that made him wilder still.

Outside the door, the sound of voices echoed. The duke was home. Rosamund heard it too and gave a squeak of alarm, leaping from his lap and almost falling on her backside. Sebastian grabbed her by the waist and put her firmly back on the sofa as he shifted away and sat back with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap to cover the fact he had a raging cockstand.

A moment later the duke strode in with Rosamund’s little brother, Fred, a girl Sebastian did not recognise, and the duchess.

“Do you have it, Papa?” Rosamund said eagerly.

The duke nodded, waving a folded piece of paper at them. “Better than that, though, I have information. Though Fred must take the credit for it. He’s been quite the detective this afternoon.”

“Oh, but Miss Agatha helped too, sir,” he said gallantly, earning himself a quick smile from the young lady.

“Indeed, she did,” Bedwin replied, laying a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Pa,” Rosamund insisted. “Tell us everything.”

Chapter 16

Wolf,

He’s not dead. He’s not dead. Mon Dieu. Either that or I am losing my damn mind. Perhaps the devil animated his foul corpse to torment me. He’s been in my rooms. More than once now. I can feel him watching me. I have come home again tonight to the smell of those filthy cigars lingering in the air.

My brother, my friend, and my valet huddle together and whisper about me, for they think I am becoming paranoid. They think my mind is unravelling. I cannot pretend that isn’t true. I have just torn the place apart, certain he had left something, some tangible proof he had been here. You know how he loved his little games. I found nothing, but I know it’s here. I know it’s here. I cannot sleep and jump at shadows. If only he would show himself so I might kill him again and make certain he stays dead. He will succeed in killing me this time if I do not strike first. I would beg for you to pray for me, but we both know God stopped listening a long time ago.

―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen to Wulfric ‘Wolf’ De Vere.

15th July 1842, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent.

“So then I went to see Aggie,” Fred said, his excitement obvious. “Because her guardian lets her read the scandal sheets when she visits, and she always knows all the gossip. I was right, too: she said Mr Price has shown interest in several young ladies this year, and so we made a list.”

The evening was drawing in, twilight settling over the skies outside the windows.

“Fred, did it never occur to you that you ought not sully the ears of a young lady with such a sordid tale?” his father asked, his tone gently reproving.

Fred turned scarlet.

“Oh, that’s all right, your grace,” Aggie said, waving this concern away. “I saw far more terrible things before Monsieur Le Comte rescued me from the streets.”

Everyone fell silent as this appalling truth settled between them. Aggie had learned her lessons well, so well it was impossible to believe she wasn’t a well brought up, sheltered young lady like Rosamund or any of her sisters.

“Come and sit by me, Aggie dear,” Matilda said, patting the empty seat on the settee beside her.