Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Do I vex you, Mrs Montrose? Surely you did not quit the games room just to get away from me," murmured Starling, stepping closer to his quarry as she lingered at the far end of the picture gallery.

Mrs Montrose glanced at him briefly over her shoulder, her brows drawing together with a look of frustration before she dismissed him again.

Oh yes, his instinct had been correct. Mrs Montrose did not like losing one bit.

The lady sniffed, raising her chin and pretending to examine the paintings lining the gallery as she wandered further down the hall.

"Not at all, Captain Starling. That would imply that I felt some way about you. No, you do not vex me. Although, your choice in waistcoats might come close."

Starling grinned at the retort behind her back, admiring the delicate line of her spine as her neck curved into her shoulders above the dusky red gauze of her gown, a single tendril of dark hair trailing down over her nape and begging him to swipe it aside with his thumb.

It had been an amazing coincidence that his choice of attire had so closely matched her gown. He was sure it had galled her immensely.

God, he wanted her. It burned inside of him like an elemental flame.

Their earlier conversation had done nothing to dowse his ardour. If anything, the thought of learning all of Mrs Montrose's sensual secrets had tied him in knots all evening.

"You might not feel something for my person, but I know you respond to my presence. I can feel the connection every time our eyes meet," Starling said in return, hoping to goad her into some kind of response.

Anything but the remote disdain she had projected his way since their hushed conversation earlier.

She stiffened, turning her head slightly to glance at him from under her eyelashes.

Waiting.

Starling decided to take the lead.

You needed to reach for the thing you wanted in life.

"What was that you said to me that night at the Palais? You may fuck me, or you may kiss me." Starling smiled as he said the words, stepping right up behind her so that he could smell the sweet rose scent of her skin.

"Perhaps we could revisit that conversation? I might choose differently this time."

Helen's shoulders rose as she took a shuddering breath, her head tipping back the barest hint as he lowered his voice, soothing her as he would a skittish filly.

Fuck, had he ever had to work this hard to convince a lady to lift her skirts? Or care so much if he failed, for that matter.

For some reason, the outcome of this conversation felt momentous. Starling had never wanted anything more desperately, it suddenly seemed.

She turned to him slowly, her gaze rising to his with a challenging glint, then leisurely working its way down over his body.

His muscles trembled with erotic tension, jumping with desire as the woman looked her fill of him, lingering on the bulge that was making itself painfully obvious behind his fall.

"Very well, I will have you, sir. For one night only, and on one condition."

Starling felt the breath leave his lungs in a woosh, his hand already reaching out to trail its way down her arm, so desperate was he to feel her skin against his.

"Anything. Name your stakes."

Helen's mouth tipped up in a sphinx-like smile. "Stakes? What a wonderful idea."

She tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to consider. Finally, she spoke again. "It is quite simple, really. Whoever begs the other first, wins."

Starling grinned in victory, then quickly composed his face into a more suitably serious mein. "Wins what, madam?"

Helen shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "The winner may choose the prize."

Godamn. The woman had been sent to torture him. She had him by the balls, and she knew it well.

She was absolutely glorious.

"I agree to your terms," he smiled, watching his hand skate back up towards her shoulder, fingering the silk flowers that embellished the curve of skin there. "And when shall we begin?"

"Right now," she said, her voice husky with something that sounded delightfully like desire.

Thank Christ.

Starling wasted not a second more, glancing quickly around to make sure they were alone, then taking her hand and tugging her further down the gallery, towards a conveniently curtained alcove in the dark far recess of the hall.

The rest of the party was engrossed in their play, and he knew no one would care where they had disappeared to.

That was the beauty of seducing a scandalous widow, there was no need to consider anything but the pleasure at hand.

Starling dragged Mrs Montrose inside the alcove, tugging the curtains closed with haste and then he turned, all his attention fixed on the object of his desire.

Her dark eyes glowed above cheeks flushed pink with excitement, those red lips parted as if begging him for a kiss.

Backing her up against the wall with his body, he did just that, groaning as the taste of her flooded his senses, his hands moulding themselves to her curves as he crushed her against him, the thin fabric of her dress revealing every delectable line of her body.

She kissed him back for one eternal minute, her tongue sweeping against his, licking and sucking on his lower lip until she pulled away with a nip of her teeth.

Panting, Mrs Montrose stared up at him, her hands finding their way under the cut of his jacket, exploring the line of his flanks.

"I thought you were not supposed to kiss me?" she gasped, even as her nimble fingers stole their way under his waistcoat, tearing at the hem of his shirt until she could skate her palms under the fabric and then up over his skin.

"I never agreed to that, Mrs Montrose, if I recall correctly," he answered, voice rough with need, dropping his mouth to the curve of her neck and licking his way up her throat, searching for that tender spot that would make her knees buckle for him.

He was suddenly consumed with the desire to brand her with his mark, suck hard on her skin, and devour her whole until she moaned with pleasure.

Until she begged for him.

Suddenly, he understood the appeal of the deal they had made, the thought of her breaking under the pleasure of his touch incredibly arousing.

Under his shirt, Helen dragged her thumbs across his nipples, reaching up to tease him with her own mouth as he groaned against her lips.

"Helen," she whispered against his lips, her curious hands dipping lower, exploring the flat plane of his stomach until, saints preserve him, she boldly cupped his rigid length over his breeches.

"Helen," Starling groaned, letting the sound of her name roll over his tongue like fine wine.

Why had he imagined he would be the one in control here?

Helen dropped to her knees, skirts puffing up around her as she tugged one long white glove from her hand, reaching for his fall, all the while keeping that mysterious gaze fixed on his as she licked her lips suggestively.

Starling vaguely realised they were approaching dangerous territory, far beyond a secretive moment of heavy petting behind the curtains.

If anyone chanced upon them now, there would be no mistaking the carnality of the moment. He tried valiantly to keep an ear out for footsteps in the gallery, but Helen was making it so incredibly hard to think.

Starling watched her through a haze of lust, as she slowly undid each button, his hands finding their way to the back of her carefully coiffed hair as she drew the moment out with tortuous restraint.

Finally, she slipped her hand inside and gripped him firmly at the base, drawing the hard length of his cock out as she flicked her eyes down to examine him.

Yea gods . She was far better at this than he had anticipated, as he watched her lick her lower lip, stroking her palm up his shaft until she squeezed the crown of his engorged cockhead.

Starling closed his eyes against the erotic sight, already his resolve was weakening.

How weak was a man's flesh in the hands of the right woman?

He felt her touch her tongue lightly to the bulge of his crown, and his eyes flew open, staring open-mouthed as Helen slowly teased a circle around the ruddy tip, his hips already bucking slightly into her touch. She bunched a hand in the hem of his shirt, tugging him closer, then slid her tongue down the length of him, exploring every ridge as she circled the girth with her bare hand, fingers barely closing around the base of the thick stalk.

By the time she made her way back up to the tip, he was slick with seed, and the sight of her dipping her tongue out to taste his excitement had Starling hissing with pleasure.

"Are you ready to capitulate, Captain Starling?" she breathed against him, closing her lips briefly around the head of his cock and giving it a light suck.

Santa Maria .

"Colin," he croaked, his fist tightening in her hair, fighting the urge to hold her in place and thrust himself into her mouth. "And no, I do not submit."

"Very well," she murmured, sucking him fully into the delectable heat of her mouth, curling her tongue around him as she dipped down over the bulge of his crown and then tongued that sensitive line below.

Oh, he was a goner. He was done for.

No man could withstand such torture for long.

"Do you want more?" she asked, pulling her mouth away with an obscene pop so that she was free to look up at him, her lips swollen from his kisses and the act of stretching around his cock.

"Yes, no. I can't-" Starling was apparently incoherent with need, his balls aching with the need for release.

Helen blinked innocently up at him, holding his gaze as she dipped her head and sucked him deep into her mouth, swallowing him down with a hum of satisfaction as he groaned above her, his knees threatening to buckle at the pleasure of it.

She dragged her mouth up and down his length, each pass taking him deeper, smoother, until he bumped against the back of her throat.

Starling couldn't control himself any longer, and he started to pulse his hips in time, holding her head in place with shaking hands as his release twisted and seethed low in his gut, fighting to be let off the leash.

Just when he felt his vision dim, his climax beating at the door, she dragged her mouth free once more, her lips glistening.

"Fuck."

He couldn't hold back the expletive, and Helen smiled impudently, pumping him lazily in her fist.

"Do you think that is what it would feel like?" she wondered aloud, examining her handwork as she twisted her palm over his glistening crown. "Do you think it would feel that good to sink into me, take me right here, right now?"

The image of her bent over the cushioned bench, his cock buried to the hilt in her hot cunt burned itself across his mind, the words rushing from him before he could even think to halt their flow.

"Christ, no. It would be so much better. Please, Helen, put me out of my misery."

She cocked her head, victory flaring in her eyes. "Are you begging me, sir?"

"Yes." Fuck.

"Yes, I am begging you."

She rose, or he dragged her up, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was the feel of her flush against his body, his hard length digging into her soft belly through the silky gown as he devoured her mouth, tasting the salt of his essence on her tongue as he hastily rucked up her skirts, sliding his hands up over smooth, plump thighs to find them wet with her desire, the slippery heat at her centre like liquid silk under his fingertips as she moaned against his lips.

For one brief moment, he caught himself, even in the craze of his fever.

"Do you want this, Helen? Are you ready for me?"

"Yes," she gasped against his lips, turning to face the wall, raising her hems and balancing one knee on the bench, just as in his fantasy.

"Take me."

He needed no more urging, kicking her legs apart and throwing the skirts up over her bottom, lining the head of his cock at her core in one swift motion and pressing himself desperately into her heat with a harsh groan of relief.

She was as tight as a vice, and Starling had to pause for a moment, his head spinning, running one hand up along her spine as she moaned and arched herself like a cat to take him deeper.

With a series of short, ragged thrusts, he obliged, working himself into her tight sheath, then driving himself home with a final snap of his hips as his load threatened to erupt at the perfection of their joining.

Had it ever felt this good? He couldn't say.

Every other encounter was burned away in the wake of the sublime feeling of being inside this glorious woman.

God. He was going to spend, too fast. Too. Fast.

He reached around the slight curve of her belly, finding the swollen pearl of pleasure between her folds and forking his fingers over it, determined to have her with him.

Working his fingers there in time to his thrusts, Starling teased a sobbing cry of pleasure from Helen's lips as she spread her legs wider, clutching the window frame as he pounded helplessly into her, unable to stop the animal lust careening through his veins.

It was impossible to hold back the surge of his seed, and with a ragged grunt, he dragged himself free of her clasping heat at the very last minute, grinding himself helplessly against the soft curve of her bottom as his release shot out and coated her creamy skin.

Even as he embarrassed himself like a green lad, his hips still humping against her in the throws of his climax, Starling curled his fingers into her channel, slicking his fingertips with her essence and dragging them up and down through her folds, rubbing and circling them over her swollen flesh until she arched her back and shuddered in his arms, her hips rocking into his hand as she followed him into her crisis.

After a few ragged breaths, Starling managed to drag himself off the woman.

"Well, that was embarrassing," he muttered, pulling out a handkerchief and quickly wiping away the evidence of his lack of control.

She would think him a boor. A cad of the lowest order.

But when she turned to look at him, he saw only sated victory in those large green eyes. Not the disappointment he had expected.

Helen's lips twitched with a hint of amusement, but she rose and pushed down her skirts and adjusted her bodice without a word, flashing him a long loaded look as she pulled back the curtain and stepped out into the hall, turning her back on him and making her way towards the lighted doorway at the far end where the sounds of the party could be heard vaguely in the distance.

"I demand a rematch," called Starling, watching with bated breath as her steps slowed, her head turning towards him and then dipping into a small nod.

"Very well," she smirked at him over her shoulder, her generous hips swaying seductively as she strolled on without sparing him another glance.