The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(68)

His mouth moved to trace her cheekbone, her temple, her ear. “Damn it, Cassie. I knew you were pretty but I never expected you to be this damn beautiful when you grew up.”

Cass couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re breathtaking.” His mouth was back on hers. She pulled him even closer this time, her hand moving down of its own accord to trace the hard hot outline of him beneath his breeches.

He groaned and pressed himself into her hand. She rubbed him up and down. Another groan.

His mouth was on her throat, licking, kissing, sucking. She threw back her head and closed her eyes. Nothing mattered, nothing other than the feel of his hot mouth on her flesh. She wanted to feel him, touch him, taste him. He slowly moved his hand between her legs to the scorching wet flesh. Cass moaned. “Julian.”

His mouth returned to her as if to silence her. He kissed her again and again, long, hard, deep. Then he sank his finger into her wet heat, and she forgot to breathe.

Julian’s hot, hard finger moved inside her, and Cass wrapped her arms even more tightly around his neck. “Oh, Julian,” she breathed against his mouth.

He slowly dragged his finger back and forth, back and forth inside of her while she experienced a myriad of emotions and feelings she’d never felt before. She pressed her mouth against his hand. “I can’t—”

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “You can. Just let me touch you, Cassie. I’ve wanted to for so long.”

She didn’t allow her brain to register the enormity of those words. She was all feelings now, floating on a sea of emotions and nerves and the most powerful lust she’d ever experienced. He withdrew his finger and she cried out. “Shh,” he whispered against her lips.

His thumb found her then, the most delicate spot on her body, the center of her thighs. He circled her in tiny little movements that made her head toss fitfully against the cushions of the sofa.

“Julian.” The pressure between her legs was building, a feeling unlike any she’d known before. His mouth continued to possess hers and his thumb kept up its gentle rhythm on her most private spot, nudging again and again in the most perfect location. She clenched her teeth. Her brow furrowed. She tugged on his neck, kissing him ferociously. “Julian!” she cried as a wave of delicious shudders racked her body.

Cass floated slowly back to reality. Julian pulled himself sharply away from her and cursed under his breath. Having the warmth and heat of his body gone left her bereft. He sat up on the sofa next to her while she scrambled to right her skirts and clothing.

Cass sat up next to him, and touched her swollen mouth with her fingers. Then her hand moved up to her coiffure. Her hair was in total disarray; so were her thoughts. She would have let him make love to her right here in the middle of the drawing room if he’d wanted to. She would have. She had no doubts. Even now she was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t—

“Go. Now,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

She reached for him, longing to run her fingers through his burnished hair. “Julian, I—”

He blocked her hand with his arm. “Go. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

Cass took a shaky breath. She stood on wobbly legs and smoothed her hands over her skirts.

“Go!” he demanded one last time.

She turned and fled from the room.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


Bloody hell. Upton was here. Julian strode through the main room of the club doing his best to ignore the future earl. Right. Upton was a member of Brooks’s. How could Julian forget?

The club was just as Julian remembered it. Stuffy. Smoky. Full of a lot of overfed gentlemen with too much money and too much time on their hands talking about subjects they knew little about. War, for instance.

Since the moment Julian had walked through the door an hour ago, he’d been waylaid by one chap after another, all wanting to know about his battle experiences. Every one of them had got a gleam in his eye when Julian spoke of his injuries. The vultures. All they were truly interested in was what it felt like to nearly die. He’d tell them … It was exactly like something you didn’t want to discuss ad nauseam or, perhaps, ever!

Julian took a seat at a card table in the center of the next room and began a game with a few gentlemen. He didn’t have long to wait before Upton came wandering over. The future earl made his way to Julian’s table and stood next to him.

“What do you want, Upton?” Julian ground out, looking up at him through narrowed eyes.

Upton sat next to Julian and took his time lighting a cheroot. “Didn’t think you saw me when you walked by in the other room, Swift. I tried to say something to you.”

“Forgive me. I’m not in the mood for your company at present.” Julian’s smile was tight.

Upton arched a brow at him. “So you did see me?”

“Do you have a point, Upton?” Julian tugged at his cuff. The last thing he bloody well wanted to do today was trade inane banter with Upton. After his encounter with Cassie last night, Julian was in the foulest mood of his life. Daphne had told him so. She’d made it a point to inform him on their ride home that she’d never seen him more disagreeable. He was beginning to agree with her about that at least.

Damn it. He shouldn’t have laid a finger on Cassandra last night, let alone all ten of them. He’d meant to tell her that they didn’t need to be disagreeable with each other, instead he’d behaved like a complete animal. Touching her had been its own exquisite form of torture, the kind of torture that was worse than anything the French could dream up. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from ripping open his breeches and taking her then and there on the damn sofa in the middle of someone else’s party. What the bloody hell had he been thinking?