The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(77)

“And yet here I am,” she said. “I let you hold me. I shiver when you kiss me. When I tremble at the thought of talking to my mother, you are the one who makes me laugh.” She sat on his lap and leaned down to brush his nose with hers. “When I smile, I look to you first, because I know you’ll understand the joke. So, yes, Sebastian. I’ve been seduced.”

He drew in another deep breath.

“All these years,” Violet said, “I never understood how much it meant to me when you made me smile. But now it’s my turn.” Her words were turning fierce. “You deserve to be seduced.”

“It…won’t take much effort, I can promise you that.” He gulped. “But Violet, are you sure…”

“I’m sure of this.” She slid off his lap onto her knees on the floor in front of him. Her hands sought the buttons of his fly. She knew as she undid it that she wasn’t as practiced as he. But judging by his indrawn breath, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if she fumbled with his trousers, or if her hands were inexpert as they drew the fabric away. It didn’t matter if it took her a minute to find the right position, if he had to guide her into place or shift on the sofa.

What mattered was this: that Sebastian had been giving to her all these years, supporting her when she needed it, loving her—and if she were deserving of such depth of emotion, surely, so was he.

When she finally had his trousers pooled at his feet, she could concentrate on the prize: rakus erectus. His penis was hard and thick, jutting out at an angle. His breath came in ragged gasps as she ran her hands down him, lightly exploring the surface—deceptively soft at first brush, hard when she probed a little deeper. That dark head, even softer.

“Violet.” The words seemed drawn from him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I don’t,” she answered with some asperity. “I want to.”

He let out a gasp. And then—before she could lose her nerve—she took him in her mouth.

God. She had never understood the idea of this before. It had seemed a pale imitation of sex when she’d first heard the whispers among married ladies. But in its own way, it was even more intimate than intercourse. Her tongue could explore the vein down the underside of his penis, the softness of the head. She could squeeze him and hear his breath go ragged.

He touched her head, his hand tangling in her hair.

“Tell me,” she said, murmuring around him in her mouth. “Tell me what you’d think about, if you were using your good left hand.”

“You.” His voice was hoarse. “You, always you. You have no idea how many times over the years I’ve thought of you. Wanting you.” A pause. “God, that—that right there. Do that.”

She sucked the head of his penis again, letting her tongue swirl over the tip. Feeling his whole body tense in response, his hands squeezing her shoulders.

“Sometimes I’d imagine sweeping away all the plants off of one of your worktables in your greenhouse. Setting you on the edge and then lifting your skirts and having you.”

She paused and lifted her head. “Wait, you thought of doing what with my plants?”

“It’s a fantasy!” he protested. “If we’re really going to pick it apart, I don’t think that a table made of wood planks and sawhorses could withstand the torque exerted by pounding at that particular angle, either.”

She sniffed. “Well. I suppose. But pick another one. I’ll get distracted thinking about the details.”

He laughed softly. “Do you remember our train ride out to New Shaling for Robert’s wedding?”

She nodded.

“You were ignoring me. Talking to Minnie the entire time. The only time you weren’t talking to her was for about ten minutes, when you stood up and went to the hall. I think you said you wanted to stretch your legs. I could see you every minute or so, as you paced in that corridor. I thought about getting up. Going to you.”

His words sounded dark and dangerous.

“I thought of simply putting my hand over your mouth. You would have known what I wanted.”

She felt herself growing wet at the very idea. She leaned down and took him again in her mouth. He was harder still, hard and huge against her tongue.

“I’d have turned you against the wall, right in that one spot where you’d not be visible to any of the other passengers.” His hands came down on her shoulders; his hips flexed almost involuntarily.

“I wanted to take you just like that,” he whispered. “Like that, Violet. Where I could slide one hand around you to cup your breast, the other farther down.”

His breath was growing erratic; he had begun to thrust into her mouth.

“And God, you would feel so good around me.” His voice was lower than she’d ever heard it. “You feel so good around me. Oh, God.”

He was like steel in her mouth, steel heated almost to burning. His c**k slid in and out, harder, more insistent. And Violet had never felt quite so powerful as in that moment. He was shaking, shaking so hard, and yet so insistent.

“I’d make you come three times,” he said, “until by the end, you would have to bite my hand to keep from screaming.” And then he pulled away from her. His hand wrapped around his cock; he gave it one, two short little jerks. And then he produced a handkerchief and wrapped it around the tip, a bare moment before he groaned and came hard, his face contracting into a grimace.