Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

H is hands on her shoulders burned and her heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest, sending tendrils of alarm through her system as she fought for composure. Not now! Not now!

"I'm a man, and you're a beautiful, desirable woman. You can't fling yourself at me like a child and not expect to reap the consequences." His words ripped through her. The tone was deep and gentle, but their meaning pierced her soul.

She turned and placed her hands on his chest, looking up into his face. His eyes, black and molten stared down at her, and she wanted to fling herself into their depths and drown. For what little time she had left, she wanted to live, and this man represented an opportunity to do just that, if only she could convince him to put aside his gentlemanly scruples.

She could feel the heat of his body through the layers of clothing and the hard muscles of his chest. She wanted to see him, all of him. She had glimpsed men's naked chests occasionally but no more, would he be hairy? Sh e thought he would be. What would it feel like to touch his skin, tangle her fingers in his chest hair?

The heat his kisses had roused in her body, made her stomach muscles tighten and pooled liquid fire between her legs. She wanted more of his kisses, more of his touch .

Her woman's instinct told her that she could have what she wanted if she could be bold enough to push him just a little bit more. As he'd said, he was a man, and she was a beautiful, desirable woman . The sudden power he had put into her hands with that statement was a heady brew.

"I know you're a man, I can feel it, feel you, " she said low and soft, her voice throbbing with all the longing in her soul. Rising on tiptoe, she reached up to bring his head down towards her and whispered, "I'm not the child everyone thinks I am, and you don't have to protect me from you."

He groaned. "You would tempt a saint, you know that?" his arms came up and wrapped themselves around her, pulling her tight against his chest. The latent strength in his embrace was palpable, and yet he held her as if she was precious.

She smiled, her face now very close to his. "Kiss me, please?"

He closed the distance between them, and his lips set her afire again, the tingling, delicious feeling going all the way to her toes. His lips explored her with tender curiosity, gentle and insistent. She parted hers willingly for his tongue and gave back kiss for heated kiss.

She leaned up into him, and he practically lifted her off her feet, his arms tightening round her as the kiss deepened. Her hands p ushed into the short hair on the nape of his neck, and she returned his kisses with rising fervour.

When he broke the kiss, they were both breathing quickly, his eyes molten pools of darkness, her heart skipping and thudding alarmingly. Lowering her to her feet, yet not loosening his hold on her body, he said hoarsely, "you tempt me beyond reason, little flower, this is wrong."

Despite his words he didn't let her go, his thumb rubbed circles across her back and his other hand kneaded her hip, as if he couldn't stop touching her.

"Nothing that feels this good could be wrong," she murmured as she pushed her hands under his jacket and splayed them over his waistcoat, pressing close to feel his heat and the hard muscles beneath his clothing. She wanted to touch him, desperately. Her fingers went to the buttons on his waistcoat and undid them.

"What are you doing?" his voice deep and pained.

Having got his waistcoat buttons undone she leaned her cheek against his chest running her hands over his shirt and then around to his back, squeezing him close. She buried her nose in his shirt and inhaled his musky male scent.

"I want to touch you, feel you," she said breathlessly, her heart thudding hard and tripping in its urgency. She could drop dead here and now. How much time did she have? Her urgency must have communicated itself to him because he caught one of her hands as she brought it round to run over his chest again and kissed it .

"Hush, slow down sweetheart." His big hand enveloped hers and his other arm squeezed her close, tucking her against him under his chin. He kissed her hair.

"Please," she whispered, against his chest.

He groaned again. "Miss Whittaker..."

"Bethany..."

"Bethany." His breath caressed her ear and she shivered. Her whole body was on fire, and he had barely touched her. She wanted so much more from him. She burrowed closer, kissing his chest through the fine linen of his shirt. She lifted her head and her free hand and tugged at the folds of his cravat. He let her go to grab her hand. "Bethany stop!"

She looked up at him panting, her face was flushed, her eyes wild, her hair tangled. His cock was so hard, his balls so tight, it was agony. Her expression tore him to shreds.

"Alright," he said hoarsely, yanking at his cravat, unwinding it and tossing it aside. "Only so far and no further." the words a reminder to himself as much as a warning to her. His promise to Mr Lovell rang in his head. Miss Whittaker will take no harm while in my care.

He scooped her up and sat back down on the chair with her in his lap, ignoring the fact that for what he had in mind the bed would be better. The bed would represent too much temptation.

With his cravat gone, she pulled the drawstring of his shirt loose, baring his neck. The touch of her fingers on his heated skin made him shiver, and he swallowed a curse. She wriggle d on his lap, causing his cock, against which her hip bumped, to throb and leak in his breeches. He was resigned to making a mess of himself. That, he thought, was inevitable, but it was better than ruining her. With that laudable intention, he let her play with him, stroking her fingers down his neck and inside his shirt, her lips tracing kisses from his earlobe to his collarbone, exposed by the open neck of his shirt.

He held as still as he was able under this treatment but couldn't disguise the trembling that her touch ignited in his body. God in heaven, could he come from the touch of her lips on his skin and the pressure of her hip on his cock alone?

His hands came up of their own volition to stroke her back and her hip. His lips found an earlobe and nibbled. She sighed and arched her neck, a blatant invitation for more. He obliged and she moaned softly, causing him to leak more. The aching burn in his groin made him shudder.

Suddenly she sat up and undid the buttons on her spencer, stripping it off and casting it aside, revealing the décolletage of her dress, which showed far more of her small white bosom than was good for his health. He stared at that expanse, so much temptation.

She resumed her exploration of his neck and chest, and soon he felt her hands tugging at his shirt to pull it from his breeches. She tugged it free at the front and plunged her hands under the fabric to run them over his torso and chest.

"Yes," she murmured in accents of satisfaction, and he swallowed another cruder curse, bracing his body at the assault of her touch .

It was too much. With a growl he pushed her chin up and found her mouth, kissing her with savage hunger, his hands running over her back and hips, stroking kneading, pressing her hip against his aching cock.

She wriggled around in his lap, making him groan and protest.

"Bethany, you're killing me!"

He kissed her and kissed her, while her hands continued their exploration of his chest. Her busy fingers found his nipples and stroked them, making him jerk and curse. Fortunately, her mouth swallowed the crudity, and he reached up to loosen the laces of her gown, allowing him to pull the bodice off her shoulders. He could resist the call of that bosom no longer.

His mouth worked its way along her jaw to her ear and her neck, and down to her bared shoulder. His greedy eyes looked down at her bosom, the curved gap between her small round breasts fully revealed. He kissed across the top of her breasts and licked the space between. She was sweet and salty, and he groaned yet again, another throb of his leaking cock making it impossible to keep his hips still. He wanted to ease her to the rug and get between her legs and fuck her...the aching desire threatened to over set his self-control entirely. He struggled with his baser self and won, just barely. No harm...she's innocent...a virgin, entrusted to your care. This was for her, remember? Her pleasure only...

"Let me," he murmured, as he cupped one muslin covered breast and squeezed, before sliding his fingers inside the fabric and finding a nipple. She jumped and gasped at his t ouch, and he grinned.

Pushing the fabric down, exposed one round white breast with a pert pink nipple, and he lowered his head to devour and suckle it.

She arched her back and cried out, her hands clutching at his shoulders to retain her balance. He raised his arm, circling it around her to hold her steady and continued his assault on her breast. Pleasure for her...

His other hand dropped to her lap where he rubbed up and down on her thigh through the fabric of her gown.

She whimpered and he murmured, "Do you want me to touch you?" His hand, on the juncture of thigh and hip squeezed the fabric covered flesh, his thumb reaching and rubbing the fabric towards the apex of her thighs, to indicate his meaning.

She whimpered again and nodded; her face buried in his neck.

Swallowing the sudden saliva in his mouth and trying to keep his hips still, while his cock leaked and quivered in its confines, sending tendrils of aching fire through his groin, he rucked up her skirts and ran his hand up the hot skin of her thighs. "Part your legs for me," he croaked. He could do this. He could do this, for her.

She shifted, moving her legs to accommodate his seeking hand and her hip jarred hard against his cock. He groaned and his hips surged, his other arm clamped her hard against him and for a moment he buried his face in her neck and tried to breathe. He was going to come in his breeches like a boy before this was over. But it d idn't matter, because the only thing that mattered right now was her pleasure.

His fingers found her soft flesh, and he groaned again because she was lusciously, delightfully, wantonly wet! Fuuuck! He ached! He pulled her closer as his fingers slid into her folds and she gasped, her body jerking and creating the most delicious sensations in his cock every time her hips bumped him. I t was a unique way to get off! His breathing was ragged.

"I have you," he whispered, his fingers stroking satin flesh.

Her hands clutched at him, her nails digging into his flesh, her mouth pressed to his neck as she panted and moaned, her body jerking and trembling in response to his touch. His mouth found her nipple again and her head fell back against his encircling arm as her body arched into his touch.

"Yes, little flower, come for me. Unfurl and fly Bethany."

He slid his fingers lower, tracing around her entrance but not dipping within. She was so wet! He swallowed. Oh, fuck she was delicious . What he wouldn't give to lick her, savour her scent and taste. Push his tongue inside her. Would that make her come?

Drawing the moisture back, he circled her clitoris, no direct touch, she would be too sensitive to find that pleasant, he guessed.

Beth arched her body, pushing into his touch, her heart thudding out of control. She ought to be panicking. But the pleasure was too intense too all-consuming, if she was going to die in his arms, so-be-it, she would die happy.

She gasped, moaning as his fingers traced liquid fire between her legs, building and building the tension. She would break apart at any moment, the pleasure was like nothing she had ever experienced.

His finger circled and circled, teasing and building, until the intensity of it took her breath entirely and her whole body convulsed in an explosion of pleasure, her heart skipped and for a moment she thought it might have stopped altogether, but she was so engulfed in the pleasurable flood she didn't care.

Her body stiffened and shuddered, the flesh between her legs throbbed with release and in the wake of the pleasurable peak, an aftermath of blissful, boneless peace. She collapsed in his arms and lay panting, listening to her heart, thudding heavy and slow now. It hadn't stopped after all.

She vaguely heard him grunt and gasp and felt his body shudder against hers. A burst of wet heat, spread against her hip, and his hold on her faltered a moment as his body fell back in the chair.

She felt herself slipping, but then he grasped her again, pulling her close.

"I've got you little flower. I've got you!" he murmured, his voice hoarse and low. He gathered her into his chest, and she rested her cheek against his shirt, listening to his heart beating slow and heavy like her own.

She stirred eventually and rolling her head onto his shoulder, she blinked up at him, smiling lazily. She felt so relaxed, she was s ure if she tried to stand right now her legs wouldn't carry her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He shook his head and bent to kiss her gently. "My honour," he murmured. "Was that your first?"

She nodded shyly, feeling herself blush, which was ridiculous considering what she had just done on his lap. "I had no idea. Such intense pleasure..."

So many questions crowded her brain she wondered which ones to ask first.