Someone to Watch Over Me (Bow Street Runners #1)(53)

"Take away your hand," he urged.

"I can't." She gasped as he kissed around the barrier of her hand, searching between the crevices of her fingers. His mouth settled over the back of her hand, and he drew small wet circles with the point of his tongue, until her entire body tingled with shocked excitement.

"Take away your hand," he said huskily, pulling gently at her wrist. She continued to cover herself, and he licked each of her taut fingers from base to tip. His tongue was agile, restless, playing over her wrist and hand and fingers until she moaned that she could not bear it any longer.

"Then let me do as I want, dammit," he whispered tenderly. "Take away your hand, darling."

She obeyed, revealing the place she had shielded, and Grant growled in satisfaction. He nuzzled into the soft wealth of red curls, using his fingers to spread her open. One surging lick into the tantalizing salty cove, and he felt her entire body shake. Another lick, and he lingered in hungry exploration, teasing, tasting, his senses spiraling in pleasure.

Grant felt her pushing at his head, but he ignored the feeble gesture and concentrated on the delicate flesh beneath his tongue. Her fingers trembled on his head, and her h*ps tilted in helpless offering. She was unable to hold back her response now, her body yearning and tensing in an unmistakable rhythm. He knew he could do anything he wanted with her now, and for a moment he was tempted to raise upward and thrust himself inside her throbbing warmth. But equally compelling was the desire to feel her cl**ax against his mouth, and so he stayed where he was, his tongue moving in rapid flicks until she bit back a scream and gave a long, sweet shudder of release.

"Oh..." she whispered between uneven breaths. "I didn't know...I never thought..." Her body trembled violently as he rose upward and folded her against the shelter of his chest.

Grant crushed his mouth into her hair, kissing her damp scalp. "That's just the beginning," he promised. "That's the very least of what you're going to feel with me."

She had thrown herself willingly into the fire. She had only herself to blame if she had gotten burned. That was the first thought that entered Vivien's mind as she awakened by herself, her body spread diagonally across the huge bed. A spark of hope flared inside her, that perhaps she had dreamed an unusually vivid dream. But the pillow beneath her head carried a faint masculine scent, and she was na**d beneath the sheet and coverlet. Her bleary eyes cracked open. As she pushed aside the covers, she saw the hints of bruises on her pale legs and hips, as if someone had held her too tightly.

She was sore in places she had never been sore before. There was a sting of discomfort right between her thighs, and strained muscles all down the insides of her legs to her knees. Her shoulders and neck also ached. Just as she thought longingly of a hot bath, someone entered the room.

Instantly Vivien jerked the covers under her chin as Grant approached the bed. He had already bathed and dressed. His face was shaven and his hair damp and neatly combed. It seemed he had taken special pains with his appearance this morning, his black silk cravat tied with crisp precision, his shirt starched and snowy in contrast to his immaculate gray coat and charcoal waistcoat. Pearl-colored trousers had been neatly strapped over black boots polished to a blinding gleam.

As she stared into his alert green eyes, Vivien was filled with conflicting feelings. She could not, would not, blame him for taking her virginity. She had offered herself to him willingly. They had shared the most intimate experience a man and woman could have, and part of her actually gloried in the fact. However, she would not admit her love for him aloud. There were even more pressing matters to deal with...as well as a few suspicions that lurked in the back of her mind.

Grant came to her at once, cupping her face in his hands, possessing her mouth with a long, fervent kiss. "Good morning," he murmured with a slight smile. The way he looked at her, his gaze warm with intimate knowledge, made her flush.

"Sh-shouldn't you be at Bow Street?" she asked, her voice sleep-thickened. Judging from the strength of the light pouring into the room, it was a late hour of the morning. Grant was usually gone before the sun had finished its daily ascent.

"I'm not going to Bow Street this morning," he replied, leaning his hip beside her, his weight causing one side of the mattress to depress.

She considered the statement, her small hand twisting in the sheet. "Because of last night?" she asked.

"We're going to pay a visit to Linley."

"I have no need of a doctor," she said, leaning closer to inhale his spicy masculine scent. "Most women survive their first time without requiring medical attention afterward."

"Perhaps I'm the one who needs it," he said sardonically, rubbing his cheek against the silken tangles of her hair. "The Devil knows that last night was as much of a shock to me as it was to you." Drawing back, he stared into her troubled face and added gently, "You may as well be there while I talk to Linley, sweet pea. The good doctor owes us both the answers to a few questions."

He reached across the bed to a pool of burgundy silk and shook it out, holding it up for her. Realizing it was his robe, Vivien attempted to slide her arms in the sleeves without revealing her br**sts.

"I've seen a thousand signs of your innocence," he remarked, carefully pulling the mass of her hair free and letting it flow down the back of the robe. His voice was shadowed with regret, and dark color crept across the high edges of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "Until last night I thought every one of them was false. I couldn't fathom that you could be anyone other than Vivien Duvall." Taking one of her hands, he brought it to his face and pressed the tender inside of her palm to his cheek. His mouth touched the delicate crease of her wrist. "Forgive me," he muttered, with a visible effort that betrayed how difficult the words were.