A Study In Seduction(48)

With a groan of surrender, he grabbed her skirts, pushing them up around her waist to expose her long slender legs encased in cotton drawers. Lydia’s gaze jerked to his. He stopped, his chest heaving. Then she grasped his hand and pulled it down between her legs to the opening of her drawers.

Dear God. One kiss and she was so ready. Everything in her ached to feel him naked and heavy between her thighs, to grip his powerful shoulders and wrap her legs around his. Her body surged with swirling heat.

“Wait. Oh, wait.” Lydia looked down, her fingers trembling as she struggled to unfasten his trousers. He didn’t help, instead staring down at her as she bit her lower lip in frustration. “Northwood, I can’t… I’m shaking… oh, there… let me…”

She gave a breathless little laugh as the buttons yielded. She hastened to push his trousers over his hips. Her gaze flew to his. Need filled his eyes with heat.

Trembling, Lydia lowered her hand again and took him in her palm. The sensation of his rigid, pulsing length against her cool fingers caused her heart to jolt.

“Tighter,” he muttered, reaching down to wrap her fingers around him. “Like that, Lydia. Just like that.”

He pushed his hips forward and slipped his hand to her drawers again, finding the opening and parting the material for access to her bare, intimate flesh. When his fingers touched her, she moaned, her back stiffening against the wall.

“I need… oh, please.”

He lowered his head to her ear, murmuring soothing noises as he stroked his finger against her. At the same time, Lydia caressed him, sliding her thumb across his length.

What little restraint she had left evaporated under the need to make him lose control. His body tightened as the pressure mounted and spilled, his low groan vibrating against her mouth. Her grip on him loosened as her own pleasure spiraled upward, her legs parting and thighs trembling.

He stroked her with his thumb and eased a finger into her. A moan stuck in her throat as she closed around him. She came apart almost instantly, her arms tightening on his neck as pleasure shot to every corner of her being.

Northwood braced one hand against the wall to hold both himself and her upright as they recovered. She tucked her head beneath his chin, her whole body shaking and her skin hot. He held her until her trembling abated before he eased away and lowered her skirts. He adjusted his own clothing, his gaze on her.

Lydia lifted her head. His eyes contained a strange light, a mixture of fading shock and lust. Her skin heated with a flush, but she could not muster up even the slightest twinge of regret. Not for something that felt so unbearably good. So right.

He continued looking at her. Then he reached out to cup her face with his hand, his thumb brushing across her lower lip.

“You…” His voice tightened.

He swallowed, his fingers moving to the pulse still pounding hard at the side of her neck. He rested his hand there for a moment before lowering it to his side. Then he turned away, appearing rather uncharacteristically discomfited.

Lydia sagged against the wall, pressing her hands to her heated cheeks as she waited for her lingering arousal to ease. Warm, pulsing sensations continued to throb in her blood, between her legs.

Silence stretched between them; then the noise of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels came from outside.

Lydia pushed loose tendrils of hair away from her face and went to take the pages of his work from the desk drawer. Holding them close to her chest, she preceded him into the foyer just as the front door opened.

“Ah, Lydia. I’m glad you’re home.”

Lydia winced as her grandmother entered, followed by a petite blond woman with delicate features and peach-blushed cheeks peeking out from beneath a fashionable hat.

Lydia became acutely conscious of the dampness on her drawers, the material clinging to her thighs. The musky scent of Northwood on her body. She glanced at him. He appeared entirely composed, only the wrinkles on his shirt evidence of their behavior.

“Good afternoon, Lord Northwood,” Mrs. Boyd said as Sophie came to take the women’s coats. “Lydia, this is Lady Montague. She just arrived from Paris yesterday for a visit. My lady, this is my granddaughter Miss Lydia Kellaway and Viscount Northwood.”

“A pleasure, Miss Kellaway. Lord Northwood.”

He responded in kind, stepping forward to greet her.

My God, Lydia thought—or rather, mon Dieu. What if the two women had walked in fifteen minutes prior?

A bubble of laughter worked its way up her throat. “Yes… yes, and you as well, Lady Montague.”