Their eyes met. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said in a whisper.
“What could happen to me?” she asked before he leaned forward.
His lips touched hers, but it was a simple kiss. A sweet kiss. A kiss filled with longing and hope. “Sophie.” He clasped her to him. His heart thudded and began to race.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he told her in a whisper against her temple.
He pulled back and his hands were sifting through her hair. The texture of it fell through his fingers like silk and she watched his eyes in the candlelight. He touched her face softly and his hand moved down along the column of her throat.
“You are so lovely, Sophie.”
***
Leila combed her hair several brush strokes before she had made up her mind. She knew where everyone was staying. She had seen the list for herself. She knew exactly where Etienne’s room was and she knew exactly what she must do.
She was wearing only a simple white shift that came down to her ankles. Tonight would be the end of her virginity, she’d decided. It would burden her no longer. She would gift it to the man she loved.
Leila made her way along the corridor in the silent house. She felt for his door knob and it turned. It was unlocked. It had only been an hour since everyone had departed the salon but she didn’t think he would be asleep.
She entered the room and saw the light from the fireplace and the bed that dominated the room. She stepped into the room and looked for him. He lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were closed. She came towards him.
“That’s far enough.” He spoke coldly, opening his eyes.
She smiled. He must have known she would try something like this. He was smart as well as devilishly handsome.
“Why?” she asked innocently.
“Why? Because this isn’t going to happen, Leila. I only left my door unlocked to see if you would be brazen enough to try something like this.”
“Brazen? Are you calling me a hussy?” She smiled, advancing toward the bed.
“Yes. Now I said that’s far enough.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s going to be far enough until you are deep inside me filling me up,” she said softly.
Jesus, he thought. The woman knew no boundaries. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. She was too much and not enough. She was too beautiful, too young, and too innocent, with no experience of men. She didn’t realize that the tempting and teasing could drive a man insane.
Leila took one more step and then easily removed her shift from her body, letting it fall into a small puddle at her feet.
Etienne closed his eyes. When he opened them he saw her naked form, all curves and high breasts, legs and hips. He remembered so well his finger inside her in that carriage ride and almost cried out.
“Leila.” He spoke coldly.
She knew she would have to take matters into her own hands. She would wait no longer. She had decided Etienne would be hers. She wanted him. She would have him. She had written to her mother to tell her that she was in love. She wanted to marry him. It was the ravenous love of a young girl that would not be stopped.
“No, Leila.” But already he was hard and throbbing. He wanted her. He wondered how could he stop this.
Leila climbed into the large four-poster bed and slid next to him. He was wearing only dark breeches.
“I want you deep inside me. Don’t you want me too? I have seen my father’s horses mating. I have seen the stallion cover the mare and thrust inside her. I want that. I want you and you can have me. However you want,” she whispered into his ear.
Christ! It was too much. It was too much damn much! Etienne threw Leila onto her back and was kissing her and his fingers were in her hair and biting her mouth as she giggled. He was pressing her legs apart and settling between them even as her nails were gripping his forearms and then sliding down his back.
She had teased him to distraction. She had tormented him and many times he had thought of her on her knees, taking him in her sweet little mouth.
He groaned. “Leila, this isn’t right.”
“It is.” She lay completely naked as he tried to struggle with what he knew to be right and what he knew he wanted.
“No.” He sighed.
“I’m yours,” she whispered. She took her hands to cup his face and kissed his mouth. “I’m yours.”
***
Dorset had followed the elderly butler into the hallway before he retired for bed. He had asked the man which room Mademoiselle Gauvreau was in. He hoped to surprise her. She had looked so fetching in her gown and he was aroused and determined. And a little drunk.
The elderly butler was known for being slightly deaf but he had definitely heard the word “Gauvreau.”