It Happened One Autumn (Wallflowers #2)(90)

“Since I couldn’t obtain a pear from a bottle for you,” came Marcus’s voice from behind her, “this was the next best alternative.”

Lillian picked up a spoon and dug into one of the melting-soft pears, lifting it to her lips with relish. The bite of warm, wine-soaked fruit seemed to dissolve in her mouth, the spiced honey sauce causing a tingle in the back of her throat. “Mmmm…” She closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Looking amused, Marcus turned her to face him. His gaze fell to the corner of her lips, where a stray drop of honey sauce glittered. Ducking his head, he kissed and licked away the sticky drop, the caress of his mouth causing a new pleasurable ache deep inside her. “Delicious,” he whispered, his lips settling more firmly, until she felt as if her blood were flowing in streams of white-hot sparks. She dared to share the taste of wine and cinnamon with him, tentatively exploring his mouth with her tongue, and his response was so encouraging that she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer. He was delicious, the taste of his mouth clean and sweet, the feel of his lean, solid body immeasurably exciting. Her lungs expanded with shaky-hot breaths, restrained by the clench of her corset stays, and she broke the kiss with a gasp.

“I can’t breathe.”

Wordlessly Marcus turned her around and unfastened the gown. Reaching her corset, he untied the laces and loosened them with a series of expert tugs, until the stays expanded and Lillian gulped in relief. “Why did you lace so tightly?” she heard him ask.

“Because the dress wouldn’t fasten otherwise. And because, according to my mother, Englishmen prefer their women to be narrow-waisted.”

Marcus snorted as he eased her back to face him. “Englishmen prefer women to have larger waists in lieu of fainting from lack of oxygen. We’re rather practical that way.” Noticing that the sleeve of her unfastened gown had slipped over her white shoulder, he lowered his mouth to the smooth curve. The silken brush of his lips against her skin caused her to tremble, and she nestled close to him, while sensations wavered inside her like images in sun-warmed water. Blindly she reached up to his hair, her fingers thrilling at the feel of the coarse silken locks. The rhythm of her heart drove free and hard inside her chest, and she moved restlessly in his arms as he kissed his way up to her throat.

“Lillian.” His voice was husky and rueful. “This is too soon. I promised you…” Pausing, he stole a kiss from the tender hollow beneath her ear. “Promised…” he continued doggedly, “that we would negotiate your terms.”

“Terms?” she asked vaguely, clasping his head in her hands and urging his mouth back to hers.

“Yes, I—” Marcus broke off to kiss her lips, slanting his mouth over hers with twisting pressure. She explored his neck and face, her fingertips passing over the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw, the taut sinew of his neck. The smell of his skin intoxicated her with every breath. She wanted to press herself against him until there was not an inch of space left between them. Suddenly she could not kiss him hard enough, long enough.

As he felt her escalating wildness, Marcus forcibly eased her back, ignoring her whimper of protest. His own breath knocked sharply in his throat, and it seemed to require great effort to sort through his disordered thoughts. “Little one…” His hands rubbed gentle circles on her back and shoulders to soothe her. “Softly. Softly. You can have everything you want. You don’t have to fight for it.”

Lillian nodded jerkily. She had never been so aware of the difference in their respective experience, realizing that he was able to restrain his intense passion, whereas she was utterly overwhelmed. His mouth touched her burning forehead and followed the wing of her brow. “It’s better for you…for both of us…to make it last longer,” he murmured. “I don’t want to take you in haste.”

She found herself nudging strongly against his face, his hands, like a cat demanding to be stroked.

One of his palms slipped into the open back of her gown, seeking the skin above the edge of her corset, and a sigh escaped him as he felt her downy softness. “Not yet,” he said in a rough whisper, though whether he was talking to himself or to her was unclear. He clasped the vulnerable curve of her neck in one strong hand, and bent to feast on her parted lips, her chin, the front of her throat. “You’re so sweet,” he said raggedly.

She couldn’t help but grin, even in the flush of desire. “Am I?”

Marcus sought her mouth with another hungering kiss. “Very sweet,” he confirmed huskily. “Though if I were a lesser man, you’d have torn my head off by now.”

The words drew a low laugh from her. “Now I understand the attraction between us. We’re a danger to everyone but each other. Like a pair of ill-tempered hedgehogs.” She paused as a thought occurred to her, and she pulled away from him. “Speaking of attraction…” Her legs were a bit unsteady, and she wandered to the ready support of the bed. Standing against one of the heavy carved posts, she murmured, “I have something to confess.”

Marcus followed her, the light limning the sleek, superbly toned lines of his body. The fashionable looseness of his trousers, which lightly followed the shape of his lean form, did little to conceal the powerful muscles beneath. “That doesn’t surprise me.” He rested one hand on the post just above her head, his posture relaxed. “Am I going to like this confession or not?”