Seven Years to Sin(44)
His hands on her. His mouth. All that raw expertise concentrated on ensuring her pleasure. She needed that heightened intimacy with him. She felt such a surfeit of affection for him and gratitude for the changes he was effecting in her life. “Oh, yes. I have considered them all.”
His gaze heated at her breathy reply. “I should enumerate them, just to be certain.”
“No.” Jess set her hands on her bent knees. “No games or wagers, please. Not now.”
“Tell me why you’ve suddenly conceded.”
“Why not?”
“Why now? I extended an invitation to visit my cabin and you’ve ignored it for days. Only a moment ago, you attempted to leave. What brought about this swift change? Do you wish to forget? Will bedding me work as well as the claret? I must warn you, I am not nearly as fine a vintage.”
“I’ve no wish to forget anything. In truth, I hope to remember every moment of this day.”
Alistair showed no emotion, yet the air around him seemed strangely turbulent.
“I feel very close to you,” she said. “But not nearly close enough. Undressing would help considerably.”
“I don’t want you overwrought or impaired in any way.”
“I’m not. Not any longer.” His caution said so much about his intentions. If he wanted only sex, he would not be so concerned about her reasons for offering it. “Isn’t it enough that I want you? Must there be more?”
“I am not prepared to stop as I did before. It’s midday. Hours will pass and you will be missed. At the very least your abigail and my valet will know what occupied you. Perhaps others, if we forget ourselves and are overheard.”
Jess considered him carefully. “You are attempting to dissuade me. Perhaps it is you who has had a change of heart?”
She knew that was not the case, not with the indecent way he was looking at her, but his reasoning was a mystery.
“I have wanted you for so long now,” he said roughly, “I’ve no memory of how it feels to be devoid of the craving. But you must know what you do. I need you to think of who you are and where you are and who I am. Think of how things will be once we’ve crossed this threshold. Think of how you will leave this cabin—disheveled and well f*cked. Think of how you will sit across the table from me at supper, surrounded by men who will know the minute they look at you that I’ve had you long and hard this day.”
His crudity jolted her physically, surprising her with a surge of arousal she could never have expected. Her face heated. This was no tender lover who stood before her. This was the man once known for his acidic wit, whose tongue could charm and shred with equal effectiveness. A man who would do anything to have what he wanted.
And he wanted her. Her shaken confidence drew strength from that.
Alistair crossed the distance between them. “Know what you do here, Jessica,” he said again, his voice harsh and unyielding. “I can wait until you’re ready.”
“I don’t want to wait any longer.” She stood in a rush and pointed at the nearest chair. “Sit, Mr. Caulfield. It’s time I had you.”
Chapter 13
Alistair’s chest expanded with a sharply drawn breath, then deflated in a rush. He pivoted on his heel and moved to the chair, pausing to remove his coat and drape it over the back before sitting. “According to our agreement, I am supposed to be the voice of reason. A model of propriety.”
Jess watched him, admiring the sleek sensuality inherent in his movements. She also admired his taut backside, eager to see it bared. “Be my guest, but I won’t be swayed. I do understand, however, that you have a strong dislike for losing wagers.”
Setting his hands on his knees, he waited. His tense expectancy was reflected in his heavy-lidded gaze. Between his legs, the outline of his thick arousal quickened her breathing. “Not in this instance. I would give up my fortune to bed you; losing our bet is a ridiculously small price to pay for the privilege.”
Her chest tightened at his fervency, her corset becoming an unbearable restraint. Needing to be free of it, she went to him and presented her back. “Help me.”
The touch of his fingers was light, too light to quench her thirst for him. As the halves of her gown parted, Jess began to feel warm and slightly intoxicated. The scent of his skin, the exotic blend that was uniquely his, filled her nostrils with every inhalation. She knew he had to be as heated as she was, and she longed to touch his bare flesh, to press her nose and lips against it.
Alistair pushed her sleeves off her shoulders, and she wriggled out of her dress, allowing the garment to pool on the floor. He caught her stays next, loosening them with a dexterity born of experience. She’d enjoyed that skill firsthand, remembered it vividly, dreamed of it.
He helped her push the corset down past her hips, and she stepped out of the boning, feeling a novel sense of freedom and lack of inhibition.
“Jess,” he breathed, a moment before his arms came around her and he nuzzled against her back. His large hands cupped her breasts, kneading the aching flesh with a firm yet tender grip.
Her head fell back and her eyes closed, a sigh escaping her. The desire to give herself over to him was nearly irresistible, but she restrained herself. If she allowed him to, he would take over, and she didn’t want that. He’d had more than his share of women who wanted him to work in bed. She did not want to resemble those women, especially after her rash words the other evening. She wanted to give pleasure, and she wanted him to take it.