The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(56)

Unfortunately, the towel was covering her legs where he wanted to run his hands up and down the smooth pearly expanse of skin. He threw the towel in a frenzy and began raining kisses from her feet all the way up to her knee.

She squealed; he didn’t stop. He continued upward until he thought she might scream. But she didn’t, instead she pulled at his body, obviously needing more of what he had to offer.

****

Emma was quite literally soaring as Sebastian reached around and pushed the towel away from her.

The room once so chilly and tense was now a blazing furnace. As Sebastian’s hands dug into her hair, she felt she was finally home where she belonged. If he had taken advantage of her last night, she might have never believed he truly loved her, that he wanted to marry her. She would have easily thought he did it out of obligation. The man was a rule follower, he didn’t do things halfway. He would never compromise a lady and leave her.

She loved him for that. She loved him for a great many things, especially the way his mouth felt against her feet, and then her calf as he raised it next to his head and began brushing wet kisses all the way up the side of her leg.

Oddly she wasn’t one bit embarrassed, mesmerized, yes, but no shame accompanied his assault, only excitement and pleasure.

Large hands dug into the back of her head as he opened her mouth and suckled her tongue all the while dizzying her with passion.

And then she felt his body leave hers. A sense of emptiness overwhelmed her and then a feeling of burning anticipation took its place. Hastily Sebastian threw down what was remaining of his clothes. His shirt and pantaloons. Fortunately for Emma she had already demanded he remove his clothing, leaving only a few objects to strip off.

Truly, he was beautiful. Everything women accused him of and more. Knowing that he hated being compared to a feminine attribute, she fought for words to describe the masculine beauty standing in front of her. Hard muscles lined his body giving him the dominance of a modern day Adonis. And then as if amused by her obvious assessment, he winked sending her stomach into a fit of butterflies. Now she was nervous.

As he approached her, she leaned forward, careful not to stare too wide eyed at everything he represented, and then somehow she was in his arms, being kissed, being awakened.

Carefully he lifted her onto the bed, still kissing her lips and neck, and then his body was covering hers. Desperate for him to be closer, she clawed at him, moaning for him, needing him more than she needed air.

He was everywhere, her brain seemed to stop working because all she knew was she was desperate for him, ached for him, and only him, the good Duke of Tempest, Sebastian St. James.





Chapter Twenty-seven


Emma awoke in Sebastian’s arms. The moonlight crept in through the windows, casting an angelic hue across his face.

Not always so angelic, she mused as her mind went back to the night of passion they had shared.

Suddenly grateful he hadn’t allowed himself to be seduced by the women his grandmother had thrown his way, she rested her hand across the bare muscled expanse of his back and laughed as she caressed lower and lower until Sebastian, with a moan, grabbed her wrists and had her on her back.

“Not tired, eh, my little minx?” Nuzzling her neck, he flicked his tongue across her earlobe and continued to kiss her hotly across the sides of her face.

Emma was ready for more of Sebastian. Her body screamed for release. The love they had, the attraction they shared, it was unique—perfect. Her pain was his pain and his pain hers. In that moment lying in his arms in his bed, she knew everything she had fought for years to keep in—the rejection of her family, of her friends, the loss of her reputation—it didn’t matter, because she had love.

Laughter bubbled out of her.

Sebastian tensed.

“I know this is all new to you, Emma, but it must be said that laughing while a man is trying to…please a lady is not necessarily a boon to his confidence.”

“I’m so-so sorry.” Emma giggled, finally able to relax. “It’s not you.”

“Right,” Sebastian grumbled, though he didn’t necessarily push her away.

“I just figured something out, something about myself that I’ve been fighting for years.”

Sebastian leaned down until his face was touching hers. “Care to clue me in on what exactly has you in a fit of giggles while I’m trying to remove every memory of your tragic past from your consciousness?”

Emma was silent. Because what was she to say when the Good Duke of Tempest was talking about removing anything from her body?

“I just need you. I love you. You make me feel…not so ruined. That my reputation, or lack thereof, wasn’t an obstacle for us.” She shrugged, unable to fully explain her feelings.

Sebastian sighed. “Emma, reputation or not, you are perfect and I love you. It was foolish of me to think that by having a spotless reputation I would somehow avenge my parents’ death.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Ah, I shall tell you my story, if you tell me yours.”

Emma nodded and waited. It was only at the end of the story that she realized tears were pouring down her face. “Oh, Sebastian, I had no idea! I’m sorry. So that’s why you and Rawlings...”

“Yes, though in hindsight it seems ridiculous. I guess it helped me deal with the pain better knowing I could blame him as well as myself.” He shifted so she could face him better. “And what of you, Emma? I know what happened so long ago, but, dearest, why were you in the cabin in the first place?”