From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(45)

‘You test me,’ he said, ‘and now I will test you.’

And before she could guess what he was going to do, he parted her legs, and knelt between them, and he licked into her, and Allison cried out, partly in shock, because this was completely new experience, but mostly with pleasure.

Kisses. Were those kisses? Stroking. Or was it licking? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t care. She was slipping and sliding into oblivion, now climbing and tensing and pulsing and whatever he was doing, she didn’t want him to stop, not ever, not ever, and oh, dear heavens...

Her climax shook her to the core, ripping through her, tossing her high on to a throbbing, pulsing cloud of sensation. She could hear herself crying out, hear herself begging, don’t stop, more, again, her hands clutching at the silk bedcovering, her back sliding on it, as she arched and tilted towards the delicious, delightful source of unadulterated pleasure.

‘Aleksei,’ she breathed, when she could finally breathe. ‘Aleksei.’ More of a command this time, half-sitting up so that she could reach him, her hands on his shoulders, and then she was on top of him, skin on skin, a tangle of limbs and heat. She sat astride him, his face, skin stretched taut, eyes dark, pupils dilated. She was so glad of the candlelight, so that she could witness the desire etched in his face, and all for her.

The tip of his shaft nudged at her. Inch by inch, she guided him inside her, shuddering as he pushed deeper, entranced by the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he thrust, so slowly, so carefully, until he was there, all there, and his eyes drifted closed as she held him, tightening around him. And then she moved, and he moved, a small thrust and then another one, and then his hands on her waist. More thrusts, wilder now, and finally his passion was unleashed, and he rolled her on to her back, her legs around his waist now, thrusting harder, oh, so deliciously, delightfully harder and harder, until she felt the thrumming pulse of her climax crescendo and, as she toppled over into the abyss again, he cried out his own release, pulling himself free with a loud guttural groan.

*

They lay on top of the silk coverlet. The candles were burning down, making the light reflected in the mirrors flicker gold, which made the room feel like an underwater cavern. Aleksei’s heartbeat was finally beginning to slow. Allison’s hair was spread out on the pillows, exactly as he had imagined it. He buried his face in the silken mass, breathing in a spicy perfume, maybe cinnamon, and the unmistakable scent of their lovemaking. She was lying on her side, her back to him, her delightfully curvaceous bottom tucked against his groin. He cupped her breast with one hand, his other lay flat on her flank. They had not spoken. He couldn’t think of any words.

Perfect? No, for that would be to imply that it couldn’t get any better, and he knew, he was certain, that it could. Would. He pushed aside a thick silky handful of Allison’s tresses to nuzzle into her neck. She wriggled her bottom against him, and he felt himself stir, and she chuckled, a throaty sound that made him thicken instantly.

‘Aleksei,’ she said, turning around, her eyes alight with laughter and desire. ‘So soon?’

He kissed her. ‘What is it they say about practice?’

‘Makes perfect.’ She cupped his buttocks, pulling him up against her. ‘Who would have thought that repetition could be such fun?’

*

Autumn arrived in St Petersburg the next morning, a stark contrast to the previous day. The sky was heavy with the promise of rain, iron-grey clouds skidding briskly across a lowering sky. The children seemed not to notice the change in the weather, happily playing their customary game of catch with a considerably less noxious Ortipo. A simple concoction of fennel seed and peppermint mixed with flour and beef tea prepared by Allison, and administered daily by the children in the form of a biscuit, had cured the dog of the worst of his emissions and earned Allison the unexpected gratitude of Nyanya. The bulldog was considerably less rotund too, thanks to the daily outing to the gardens which all three children now looked forward to every morning.

Though it wouldn’t be long now before they would have to confine their play to indoors. She must ask Aleksei which room they might appropriate—though that was probably unnecessary. By the time the weather became too cold, she’d likely be on her way back to England. Time was, as Aleksei said, flowing faster than the Neva River. She couldn’t possibly want it to stop, that would be quite wrong of her.

The stone bench she favoured while watching the children play was cold, but Allison, huddling her cloak around her, did not notice as she sat down, closing her eyes as her mind drifted back to last night.

Last night had been—she didn’t think there was a single word that encapsulated it. Exciting. Passionate. Wildly, ecstatically satisfying. She had never imagined that lovemaking could be so utterly enthralling, so all-consuming. And so liberating. She had forgotten herself last night, entranced by Aleksei’s touch, by the strength of his reaction to her. She had forgotten who she was and had discovered some other, sensual, powerful being, who cared not where she ended and where Aleksei began. As if their borders had become blurred. As if they had somehow been transformed into...

Allison sat up abruptly, opening her eyes. What nonsense was this! Certainly no way to be thinking about a man who was destined to become part of her past in the not-too-distant future. Independence was what she had come here to achieve, freedom to be herself, to make her own life. She had not come here to entangle herself in someone else’s life, to think herself only half a person without him.