She jumped when she saw the figure sitting in the same chair that Oliver had occupied last night. There was no mistaking this handsome intruder for a maid, however. Two glasses brimming with champagne and a half-empty bottle sat on the table beside him.
She put her hand to her heart. “I need to say something, James.”
He stood, lifting a glass to her mouth. “What did you want to tell me?”
She drank the entire glass in one gulp. “You’ve shaved. And—”
“And?”
And if his brooding gray eyes didn’t pierce her like an arrow to the heart, she would not have ended up beneath him on the bed a half minute later.
“How thoughtful of you to surprise me,” she whispered, slipping her hand inside his shirt to skim her fingers down his chest to his flat belly.
As if to reciprocate, he worked his hand under her gown to the soft tuft of curls that covered her mons. “You’re so wet, you must have known I’d be here waiting.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as he pinched her taut pearl between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s another quote from the Book of Scoundrels. Have you got it memorized from the front to back . . . or did you edit it?”
“All I have to do is look at you and do what my instincts tell me.”
“My instincts tell me I’m supposed to be dressing for dinner.”
“Undress for me instead.”
“James, we don’t have time for that.”
He bent his head and kissed her into silence, pressing two fingers into her cleft and halting her protests. She stifled a moan. He slid his mouth down the length of her throat, taking small bites of her skin on his wicked way. Her breasts swelled against her corset.
He unlaced her gown and underbindings, rendering her naked to the waist. “I want to suck your nipples again. I know it excites you.”
“You’re making a mess of me,” she whispered to him in dismay.
He brushed his mouth back and forth against the tips of her breasts until her lower body softened and she lifted her hips. “I can’t ever seem to get you alone,” he mused. “There’s always someone interrupting us.”
His erection pressed against her thigh. He had an insatiable appetite for sex. “Have you forgotten this morning?”
“How could I? It was only a few hours ago.” His hot stare traveled over her wet nipples to the juncture of her thighs, where his hand still played her like an instrument.
“I guarantee that when we are married, I won’t be as lenient about your time.”
He didn’t look lenient now. He looked wild and tantalizing, a man who held her in his power without any restraints at all. “And how do you propose to solve this matter, James?”
“I believe you missed several years of discipline. You’re not a debutante now. I might require a few devices to help me keep you to myself. Handcuffs, silk ties. We can poke around some old dungeons and see if you find anything to your liking.”
“What if I want to keep you for my pleasure alone?”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Too bad. I—” She lifted her head to see him sliding down her body. He pried her legs apart, and when his mocking face disappeared from view, she dropped her shoulders back on the bed and struggled to find her voice. “You can’t do that with other people in the house.”
“Why not? Do you think they’ll feel left out?”
His laughter warmed the naked skin above her stockings. He pressed his face into her cleft and ate at her without mercy. She went absolutely still, except for a shiver or two that she couldn’t control. “James,” she whispered in utter helplessness.
He paused for a moment. She reached down to stop him, recovering only to submit again as his tongue penetrated her sex one slow stroke at a time. Her nipples tingled, rigid with a tension she felt deep in her stomach.
She rolled onto her side, but his hand promptly turned her back against the bed where he wanted her. “I’m not finished,” he murmured.
“Twice in one day.” She wanted horribly to move against his mouth. “It’s not even dark.”
“Yes. Hmm. We still have the night.”
His mouth closed over the most sensitive part of her body; his tongue teased her nerve endings with his merciless talent. Afraid she would cry out, she raised her hand to her face and bit her thumb. The pain failed to counteract the pleasure he was determined to inflict on her susceptible body. Her hips undulated with abandon.
She gasped. “If you keep this up, James, I won’t be able to walk to our wedding.”
“I’ll carry you, darling.”
He rose up briefly to kiss her. He must have sensed she was on the verge of breaking; he held the power to withhold or give her release, leaving her suspended, willing to beg. “Please,” she whispered, and he went down again, his mouth resuming its deliberate torment. “One day,” she said with a soft moan, “I’ll take my revenge.”