Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(81)

“It won’t be so bad. I’ll go with you.”

“I have nothing to wear, Rose. I can hardly put my formal clothes back on. They’re completely ruined.” He pointed to the heap of garments on the floor.

Rose giggled. “My father is very conventional. He might be impressed if you wear formal attire to speak with him.”

Cam rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get some clothes from Thomas. You’re about his size.”

“Just don’t tell him where I spent the night.”

“Of course I won’t. You’re of much more use to me in one piece.”



After sharing breakfast and bathing each other, Rose and Cameron went downstairs and asked Lily to arrange a meeting with the Earl and Countess of Ashford. With an hour to spare, Cameron led Rose into the conservatory.

“I want to hear you play your song,” he said. “I never did it justice.”

“I can’t believe that,” Rose said. “You play very nicely.”

“I’ve a decent hand is all. I can’t make the piano sing like you can. Please.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” Rose sat down on the cushioned bench and arranged the pieces of parchment in front of her. “I can help you with your work, you know. I would love nothing more.”

“I can’t say I relish the idea of my wife working, but if it means spending more time with you, I shall bear it.”

Cam’s lips curved into the smile that Rose loved, as he sat next to her on the bench.

He spoke as she played. “You’re at your most beautiful when you play, Rose. They keys are like extensions of your fingers.”

“I think it’s the music,” Rose said. “It’s beautiful, Cam. I’ve never heard a lovelier piece.”

“You were as much a part of its creation as I.” He caressed her cheek and penetrated her gaze with his silvery eyes. “I love you so very much.”

“I love you too.” Rose kissed his lips and slid against his chest into his embrace.

As the kiss deepened, Rose climbed onto Cameron’s lap, hiking up her skirts and straddling him. His arousal poked her through his trousers, and as she kissed him she moved subtly, grinding against him as her * began to pulse.

“I can’t believe I want you again,” Cameron whispered, nibbling on her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Mmm,” was Rose’s only comment, as she moved on him, purring like a kitten and rubbing her sensitive peak against him.

“Rose?”

No response.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this room soundproof?”

No response again.

“Is this room soundproof, sweet?”

“Mmm. Yes, I think so. It’s a conservatory. It should be.” She brushed her lips over his cheeks and chin, his rough stubble tickling her.

Cameron stood, Rose still in his arms, strode briskly to the door of the conservatory, turned the key in the lock, and brought her back to the piano. He lowered the lid of the grand piano while still holding Rose, then set her atop the piano.

“What are you doing, Cam?”.

“Shh.” He removed her shoes and stockings, kissing and licking her legs and making her skin tingle, and then pulled her drawers down over her ankles. He lowered his head between her legs and licked her *, softly at first, and then more ferociously.

Rose writhed beneath him. So wicked to be making love in the conservatory, yet somehow this was where they belonged. She wiggled her bottom against the cool wood of the pianoforte, begging and pleading, until he finally filled her emptiness with a finger, and then two.

Cam moved his fingers in a slow circular rhythm, and then increased his speed and pressure, all the while tantalizing her peak with his silky tongue.

“So good, Cam.” Rose lifted her hips, moaning his name as she succumbed once again to the ecstasy of climax. He forced her to the summit again, and then again, until she screamed in joyful torment.

He brought his face to hers and kissed her mouth, plunging his tongue into her.

“Cam,” she said between gasps. “God, Cam.”

“See why I wanted to know if it was soundproof?” He smiled lazily as he fumbled with the buttons of his trousers and freed his beautiful cock. “I’m going to sink myself into your body, sweet.”

“Yes, please,” Rose begged.

He thrust into her.

Cam pulled her legs up over his shoulders as he pounded her, kissing her calves and ankles, running his tongue over the arch of her foot. “You were made for me, Rose. God, you fit me perfectly.” He continued his rhythm of thrusts while sensually caressing the curves of her long slender legs.

Rose sobbed, calling his name, begging him to take her, as each sensational thrust nudged her swollen tip. Soon she came again.

At last Cameron plunged into her, his sex pulsating, his body shuddering. “Mine,” he said. “My Rose.”

“Yes, yours,” Rose whispered. “Always.”

Cameron gathered Rose into his arms and kissed her, deeply and slowly, whispering his love to her. Rose relished the closeness, the giddiness, until she looked at the clock on the mantel.

“We need to meet my parents,” she said.