A Passion for Pleasure(45)

Desire. That was it, the elusive sensation that had spiraled inside her from the moment he’d first allowed his dark, appreciative eyes to peruse her body. From the moment she had stared at his throat and wondered what it would feel like to press her lips to the smooth, taut column.

She gasped, breaking the kiss as her fingers fumbled to unravel the bonds of his cravat, to release the buttons of his collar and bare his skin to her seeking lips.

Sebastian’s hands enveloped hers, his breath brushing the fine hairs sweeping across her temple. “Clara.”

“No.” She ripped at the cravat, sent the buttons of his shirt clattering to the carriage floor. Even in the dusky light she saw the hollow of his throat pulsing with the beat of his heart, betraying the response of his body.

She pressed her mouth to that hot indentation at the base of his throat, clenching her fingers into his arms as she flicked her tongue out to taste the salt of his skin. Sebastian groaned, low and rough, a sound that rippled through her blood.

Emboldened, she thrust herself against the muscled planes of his thighs. Her knees hugged his hips. Shocked pleasure cascaded upward when the core of her body shifted to enfold the hard swell in his trousers, her thighs clenching around him with instinctive need.

Heat shot across her skin. And then, eliciting a burst of triumph, Sebastian was kissing her in return, his mouth rough and desperate, his hands yanking up the folds of her skirts and petticoats to grasp her thighs and press her more tightly against that male arousal that had never before evoked such a sharp, sudden yearning in Clara.

She shifted, writhed, her mouth locked to his. She smoothed her hands over his chest, imprinting the feel of his muscles in her mind, the heat of his skin burning through the fine linen of his shirt.

He stroked his tongue over her lower lip and grasped the coil of hair at the base of her scalp. With a few tugs, her hair unraveled in a long skein down her back. Sebastian muttered another oath and speared his hands into the thick mass, angling her head to allow him access to the innermost recesses of her mouth.

Clara melted inside, her tongue tangling with his, her body pulsing with urgency. Sebastian pushed his hips upward and rubbed against some secret, throbbing place at her core, heat building like a kindled fire poised to erupt into flames.

Clara lifted her head, her breath steaming as she stared into his blazing eyes. Her breasts strained against her corset, her dress heavy and stifling in the dark heat of the carriage.

“What…” She couldn’t voice the question as her hips shifted again. She flared with the desire to be free of clothing, to feel the glide of his erection against the shell of her body, to reach whatever completion lay beyond her grasp.

Sebastian’s fingers tightened on her thighs, his own lean frame still vibrating with restraint. Uncertain, Clara felt her body strain for more, sensing that all these uncoiling sensations would compel her toward a shattering pleasure she had never before known.

She clutched the fabric of his shirt in her fists, her throat rippling with a hard swallow as she sought the pleasures of his mouth again. His stubbled jaw scraped her cheek as he shifted, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth on a path to her left ear. He spoke then, his chest rumbled with the sound, but whatever words he voiced were lost in the silence of her damaged ear.

Clara tightened her grip on him, panic mushrooming in her belly to subsume the taut urgency of lust. She clenched her thighs around his hips and fought again to seize the hot, silken threads she already felt slipping from her grasp.

Sebastian’s hands cupped either side of her face, his thumbs easing away the lingering dampness on her cheeks. His resolve was conquering his lust; Clara saw the evidence in the set of his jaw and the flare of regret brewing in his eyes.

She gripped his shirt harder, tears spilling over when Sebastian slid his hands from her thighs, allowing her skirts and petticoats to flood back over her legs and conceal her wantonness.

Hating her desperation, she crushed her mouth to his again, pressing her breasts to his chest, fighting for his response. He closed his hands around her waist and began to lift her away from him.

“No.” The word broke between them, frantic and shattered.

Clara clung to him, refusing to unclench her fists from his shirt, locking her legs around his hips. Fear pierced her to the bones, for she knew that if she released him, if she let him break this blinding hot spell of passion, then the isolation would descend upon her and freeze her soul to ice.

Sebastian tugged at her grasping hands, pulled her legs from their circled clamp around him. A muscle throbbed in his clenched jaw, betraying his own inner fight. But he was so much bigger, stronger, that Clara already knew she stood no chance against his determination to separate them.