Chapter 13

Daphne realized her words snapped something inside him as he pushed her into the wall, almost painfully, and captured her lips in a punishing kiss. They moaned simultaneously into each other's mouths—they had both been starving, and this was the only way they could satisfy the hunger inside them.

"Daphne," he groaned.

She whimpered as his hands moved to her derriere, pulling her closer to him. The evidence of his lust poked at her belly and her body quivered as she felt the hardness of him.

Curiosity got the better of her, and her hands moved to wrap around his member. She marveled at how hard he felt. When she squeezed harder, he hissed, pulling her hand away from him.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked worriedly.

He laughed low and dark and then kissed her deeply.

"No, my curious one," he smiled. "On the contrary, if you had continued thus, I might not have lasted."

She wondered at his words. What did he mean by lasted?

His laugh caused her to redden with embarrassment. There really was a lot she did not know.

"Your innocence is oddly refreshing, but fret not," he warned, slipping one sleeve of her nightgown over her shoulder, and following with the other until the garment slipped off her body and pooled at her feet. "I intend to rid you of it tonight."

She shivered as his hands came up to unbind her hair, caressing her head as it came loose; his other hand making a trail down her face to cup one breast, taking one of her nipples between his fingers.

The rough callouses on his fingers sent liquid heat down her body to the core of her.

What was this man doing to her?

"Your nightgown was quite convenient," he remarked, taking her other breast in his hand and giving her a squeeze. "Wherever did you get it?"

She whimpered, having to hold on to him, her legs trembling slightly.

"Why? You want to get one for your other paramours?" she teased, wondering how she was capable of words when his hands were doing such wicked things to her body.

He laughed and slapped her bottom; a stinging but pleasurable sensation followed.

"You are a cheeky woman," he laughed. "Enlighten me."

"My mother commissioned it from a French seamstress."

"No wonder." His hands gave her breasts another squeeze before moving to her buttocks to lift her and wrap her legs around him. "You have a delicious body, my dear. It is time I tasted it."

He placed her gently on the center of the bed and crawled over her, capturing her lips in a kiss. She kissed him back, running her hands through his hair and then down his back.

His kisses were addictive—she wondered briefly how she would go back to her life knowing such intoxicating touches.

Her hands roamed over his back, under his shirt to caress his abdomen, and into his chest hair as his tongue tangled with hers in her mouth.

His lips moved to her cheek and then the side of her neck, stopping at a sweet spot between her neck and shoulder, which he nipped lightly, sending a spark through her. A moan escaped her, but he placed a hand over her mouth.

"Remember, love. We are trying to be discreet."

She nodded. She would have to learn to remain quiet even if it was the last thing she wanted to do, with his hands wreaking havoc on her senses. He nibbled at her neck again, moving lower.

"I would really like to mark you. But I want to hide it where only you and I would know where it is."

He bit down just underneath her breast, cooling its sting with his tongue. He repeated the motion many times until her head swam.

"There," he smiled. "Now I am satisfied."

His lips moved higher along her body, placing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her breast, taking one nipple between his teeth.

She arched off the bed, slapping a hand over her mouth before she alerted everyone to the experience she was ideally not supposed to be having.

"Victor," she moaned at last.

"Have I told you how much I love the sound of my name on your lips?" he asked, smiling broadly and obviously enjoying her torture. "But not as much as I love your breasts."

She had always hated how big her breasts were; they were the only thing men seemed interested in looking at when speaking to her. And her tailors had complained about how hard it was to style them modestly. Though now, in his hands, she loved how abundantly she had been blessed.

He cupped and lavished her breasts with kisses, groaning into her in a way that had her feeling like the most alluring woman in the world.

He moved to the other breast, licking sucking, and biting, stopping only when she looked like she couldn't hold back her moans any longer.

He kissed underneath her breasts and then her stomach, moving lower till he neared the spot between her legs that was throbbing with need.

She instinctively tried to close her legs, but he held them apart, shaking his head at her.

"There is no need to hide from me, darling," he told her using one hand to spread her out before him. His eyes took her in as he bit her lip. "I told you I intend to thoroughly corrupt every shred of innocence you have, and I intend to start by devouring you."

Her body burned with embarrassment at his words earning a lopsided grin from him.

"You really do flush this beautifully everywhere."

His fingers reached out, running over her folds, up and down in a teasing movement, increasing pressing at the nub of her which had her bucking her hips.

She kept a hand over her mouth as she knew she was likely to cry out if he wanted to keep teasing her the way he was.

He really was a scoundrel, but she could not help but love the terrible things he was doing to her body.

"I can smell your desire for me," he groaned, sending another flush of embarrassment through her.

"You… you should not say things like that," she scolded him even though she did not mean it.

He had a crude manner which she found she did not dislike. She wondered if all men were as skilled as he was in the bedroom.

"Why?" he asked as he licked her with one long stroke, groaning. "You taste as good as you smell."

Daphne could swear her eyes rolled back in her head when he increased the pressure of his tongue on the nub of her desire.

"Victor," she groaned when he stuck his tongue in her most intimate place.

"Yes, darling…" he murmured against her. "Do you want me to stop?"

He nuzzled her with his nose. And she could feel him breathe her in.

Heat swept through her in wonder.

"If you want me to, I will. Even though it will mostly likely kill me."

"Don't stop." She whispered when he licked her again.

"I am sorry. I could not hear you," he said slipping a finger inside her.

Her hips shot off the bed as blinding white pleasure shot through her.

She knew she was being loud but couldn't bring herself to stop as he increased the pace of his finger inside her, slipping another in.

"Damn you, you wretched man," she breathed. "Don't you dare stop."

He laughed against her.

"That's my girl."

Wave after wave of pleasure assailed her as he worked on her. When she finally came down from her high, she looked down; he was right there, resting his cheek on her thigh, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"Thank you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She saw him blink in surprise and then school his expression into a wolfish grin.

"You are welcome. Although I must say thank you, too." He smiled, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "You are the best dessert I have had in a while."

She pushed him backward with a hand.

"You are absolutely horrid."

"I know." He laughed, rising from the bed to pour himself a drink. "Do you want one?"

She shook her head, not wanting to lose her head, or worse, forget this moment.

She let her eyes roam down his body, wondering if that was going to be all between them. She wanted more but did not know how to ask.

Her eyes widened when she saw his member and how it jutted proudly from his breeches.

"Don't you want me to…" her voice trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

He raised a brow at her and noticed her line of sight.

"No need," he said finishing his drink in one swallow. "Seeing you come all over my fingers was all the satisfaction I needed."

"But…"

"Do not worry about me, darling."

She bit her lip, her curiosity now piqued, so she rose to her feet, somehow emboldened by his stare.

"Can I touch you?" she asked.

He did not answer but his eyes held a challenge which turned from mocking to ravenous when she wrapped a hand around him and squeezed gently.

"Daphne…"

"Teach me to pleasure you, Victor."

"Daph…"

"Please."

He led them back to the bed and sat, pulling her to him.

"Just keep touching me like that," he instructed.

"Like this?" she asked, sliding her hand through his breeches and wrapping it around him. Slowly, she started sliding her hand up and down.

He groaned, his eyes shut tight.

She marveled at the feel of him in her hands, heavy and thick, but more at the fact she could draw such sounds from him.

She increased her pace and felt him thicken even more in her hands until he let out a hoarse moan and she felt a wet spot around his member.

He took her hand off him when he finally calmed, and wiped her clean with a wet cloth. He placed a kiss on her hand.

"You really are a stubborn little woman, aren't you?"

She smiled softly when he pulled her into him and they lay on his bed, limbs entangled with his arm around her.

Was this what all married couples enjoyed? She thought as they settled into a comfortable silence.

"Do you think if I were to wed, my husband would be able to…" She couldn't finish the words as the crudity of her question became apparent, the cloud of silence that had enveloped them evaporating.

"To do what?" he asked with a proud smile on his face.

Cad.

"You know. What you did with your…"

"You mean lick you as well as I do?"

She slapped his arm lightly and he chuckled. She nodded.

"I do not think so at all," he answered proudly. "At best, he will attempt to and be terrible at it. At worst, you might never experience such pleasure again."

She frowned.

"Why is that?"

"Men, my dear, are simple," he started with a superior voice, like a teacher educating a student. "The marriage bed is boring. Primarily for producing heirs and nothing more. Decadent things, like what I did to you, are for mistresses."

"But that isn't fair," she complained.

"Marriage is never fair for women." He leaned back, throwing an arm over his head in a languid state. "That is why many women take lovers other than their husbands."

Daphne shook her head in shock.

"Then you better make sure you never marry. If you do, you will find yourself pleasuring yourself to the memory of my tongue between your legs many a night."

He really was a crude man. She had just about had enough of him.

She stood to dress and leave but he tried to stop her with a hand on her arm.

"I have hurt you, haven't I?"

She said nothing but stilled her movements.

"I am sorry, but I cannot let you go blindly into that. I tell you the truth as a friend."

"If you were to marry, would you do the same?"

He was silent for such a long a while that she thought he wouldn't answer.

"I would," he answered. "If I marry a proper Society miss."

She turned away from him to dress.

"Why are you upset?" he asked, rising from the bed and wrapping a robe about himself.

"Do you need to ask?"

"Would you have preferred I lie?"

"No, but…"

"But?" he raised an eyebrow.

She lifted her hand to hit him, but he stopped her.

"I really do hate that crude tongue of yours."

"You and I both know that is a lie," he laughed, spanking her bottom and pulling her against him so she could feel the evidence of his desire poking at her belly. "You nearly ripped my hair out when you had it inside you."

"That's only because it is as wicked as the person it is attached to."

"Come. Let me show you just how wicked my tongue can be."