From Governess to Countess (Matches Made in Scandal #1)(64)

That is one of the many things that I love about you. Dear heavens, she sincerely hoped he could not read her every thought.

He stood up, pulling her to her feet to wrap his arms around her. ‘It has been, as your grandmother would say, a bit of a day.’

She hugged him tightly. ‘You must be exhausted.’

‘I’m certainly tired of thinking.’

‘We have established a remedy for that. Why don’t we meet tonight and I can administer the cure?’

*

‘Light every candle,’ Allison said some hours later, turning the key in the lock of the State Bedchamber. ‘I want to see you in all your glory.’ To see him, to etch the memory in her mind, and to imprint herself on him. She wanted to demonstrate her love for him by truly making love to him. She wanted to show him what she could never allow herself to say.

Light flickered from every sconce, every candlestick in the huge chamber, reflecting the rich gold and blue hues of the furnishings in the gilded mirrors. As she stepped into Aleksei’s arms, Allison could see their entwined figures reflected too, his dark-blond head, her auburn, bending towards each other, and then their lips met, and she forgot about their reflection, and concentrated on the reality.

Their lips clung, their kisses not yet passionate but the kisses of two people seeking to banish the world, to forget themselves, to find succour in each other. Sweet kisses that went on and on and on, making her head spin, making her body pliant, bending and shaping itself into him. Her hands fluttered over the short, rough hair at the back of his head, down to the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his back, to rest on the firm slope of his buttocks. How she loved this man. How very much she loved him.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, scattering pins, combing through her curls as they cascaded free. His hands caressed her, flattening over her back, the dip of her waist, the curve of her bottom, back up to her breasts. And all the time their lips clung. Deep kisses. Licking kisses. Soft kisses. And then kisses that became darker. Their breath became shallow. Desire leapt inside her, a sudden flame, an aching tension, but when Aleksei began to unfasten her gown, she stopped him.

‘Wait. You first.’ She smiled up at him, a smile that was deliberately teasing, sinful, confident of her effect, rewarded with an answering, dark gleam in his eyes.

He cast off his coat, and at her behest, his breeches, boots and waistcoat too. Allison shivered in anticipation as she untied his stock, leaving only his shirt to cover his modesty. But only just. She slid her hands under the soft fabric to cup the taut muscles of his buttocks, pulling him against her, arching herself into the hard length of his erection, then kissing him again. A different kiss. A heated kiss, that he responded to with heat, but she slowed him, leading him through the strange little gate that guarded the bed, easing him on to it, standing between his legs. More kisses. The hardness of him against her belly, through her gown, was the sweetest ache.

‘Your shirt,’ she said, watching him, letting her desire show blatantly on her face as he lifted it, watching the ripple of his muscles, belly and chest, as he raised it over his head, then watching, simply staring for a long moment as he sat before her naked, while she was fully dressed. Even this was shockingly arousing.

He waited, sensing that that was what she wanted. No need to tell him. Another one of the things she loved about him. He waited while she removed her gown, slowly peeling it down her body, enjoying the way he watched her, registering the sharp intake of his breath as it slid to the ground. She turned around, and he unlaced her corsets, kissing her neck, his hands smoothing over the fullness of her breasts, circling her nipples through her chemise, making her moan, arch backwards against him.

And then she turned, pushing him back on the bed, discarding her chemise, now dressed only in her stockings and garters, to straddle him. More kisses. His mouth. His eyes. His mouth. She could never have enough of his mouth. Then his throat. His chest. His nipples. Did he like to have her do what he did to her? Sucking. Licking. Circling. Undoubtedly.

More kisses. Slowly easing herself down his body, licking and kissing her way from the dip of his rib cage to the rippling muscles of his belly, then back again, shuddering as her nipples grazed his skin, aware all the time of his bright blue gaze fixed on her, waiting, watching, taking his cue from her, stoking her confidence and her desire. She loved him so much. So very much.

She hesitated only briefly as she came to the soft line of dark-blond hair arrowing down from his navel. Kisses. She remembered the shocking delight of the kisses he had given her, and though her only clue was to echo that, her desire to make tonight unique, and to know all of him, gave her the confidence to continue. Sliding down from the bed between his legs, she felt the shock of his response in the way he said her name, and feared she had made a mistake. ‘Did I—don’t you want me to?’

‘I want only what you want. You don’t have to...’

‘Oh, but I want to,’ she said, sure now, very sure. ‘I want to.’

Kisses. The sleek muscles of his thighs. Then between. Kisses. And touch. Trailing fingers, making him contract, the lightest of kisses, making him shudder, and then her tongue, licking, eliciting a deep, feral groan. Kisses, along the satiny length of him, and then deeper kisses, daring to do what she had never dreamed of, aroused by his pulsing, throbbing arousal to more, until he cried out, begging her to stop because he didn’t want it to be over, not yet. And because she didn’t want it ever to end, she did stop, kissing her way back up his body to meet his mouth once more.