Page 29 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)
The blood in his veins surged with fire.
Without another practical thought, James spun her around and pulled the edges of her corset loose, until it fell over her hips to the floor.
Her camisole was pulled up and overhead and when he turned her back to face him, she was left wearing only her chemise.
Just like he had imagined a hundred times.
A playful grin hovered on her lips as she watched him.
“I admit, I’m new to this, but, am I the only one to undress?”
James chuckled as he reached for her hand and pulled her from the doorway of the parlor.
“Come.”
Bending down to gather her gown and under dressings, James led her up the stairs and down the hallway to her room. When they reached it, he closed the door behind him.
“How did you know where my room was?”
He motioned toward the window.
“I’ve seen you here.”
Grace’s mouth fell open slightly as she glanced out the window before turning back to him.
“You’ve spied on me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say?” she asked as he came forward, peeling off his jacket.
“I’d say you’ve haunted me, day and night for weeks. That I’ve had no peace from you.” He leaned down, brushing her left ear with his lips, causing her to tremble. “Even when in my own home, I can’t escape you.”
Grace sighed as he kissed her ear, then her neck, down to the hollow of her throat, and back up again to her other ear.
She shivered in his arms. Pulling gently at the sleeve of her chemise so that her shoulder showed, James was mad with yearning.
She pulled her one arm up and out of the confines of her garment, and then the next, just like in his fantasy.
Unbuttoning his vest as quickly as possible, tearing off his shirtsleeves, then his pants, James was nude by the time she tugged her chemise down, exposing a pair of perfect petite breasts, far more satisfying than anything he could have ever imagined.
Pushing the fabric down around her waist, Grace stood in front of him completely nude and not nearly as self-conscious as he would have expected.
She appeared pleased, happy, and sensual and her confidence was almost as equally beautiful as the curve of her hips and the slight swell of her stomach.
She was a brunette Botticelli, a vision beyond comprehension or comparison and he knew he was lost to her.
Whatever she would want from him, for the rest of his days, he would procure it for her.
“You’re perfect,” he said softly, almost more to himself than to her.
A faint blush swept over her body and he was at her mercy. The pull of a grin teased the corner of her mouth as her eyes swept over him.
“You’re everything,” she whispered back and in the next moment, she was in his arms.
Skin against skin, all the worries James had ever known or would know vanished as he kissed her.
This was his life’s purpose, making love to this woman.
His hand held her breast up, and he suckled at her, causing a jolt to shoot through her as her arms came up and held him close to her, while his other hand moved around her backside.
Gripping her, he picked her up and swung her around the room as she gasped.
Placing her gently back on her feet in front of the bed, he pulled back and, with his eyes on hers, he bent his head to kiss her as his fingers cascaded down to find the hot center between her legs.
She gasped when he pressed a finger into her, leaning slightly back onto the bed to give him better access and he growled, grateful for such an appeasing lover.
His mouth moving down her neck, across her breasts, down her abdomen. Her hands tried to stay him as he knelt, kissing lower.
“James, no—”
He reached for her wrists and held them at each side of her hips.
“This is your experiment, Grace,” he breathed into her stomach, kissing it. “Stay still and experience it.”
Without waiting for a response, James’s mouth dropped to where his fingers were, moving inside her as he found the heady scent of her. He licked her, deep and slow, which caused her feet to slip beneath her.
“James!” she breathed, her fingers going to his hair.
Yes . Her response only fed into his own desires. Using his fingers and tongue in a rhythm, he felt her fingers curl tighter, almost painfully at his short hair.
“James, wait.”
“Lean into it,” he said, aware of what was happening as her thighs began to shake.
Determined and impassioned with lust, James continued, lapping and kissing her center as his fingers moved in and out, drawing out an orgasm that went on for nearly a full minute.
Once the tremors subsided, he stood, standing over a limp Grace.
Her arm lifted, as if to reach for him and that was summoning enough.
Coming over her, he kissed her breasts once more, up her neck and her ear as he lined his shaft up to enter her.
“Grace,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you know what I’m going to do?” She bobbed her head, eagerly. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Oh, yes, James. Yes .”
The crack in her voice pulled at his heart for some reason and even now, on the edge of his own pleasure, he paused.
“Are you sure?”
“Please, James,” she begged, her hands touching his shoulders and pulling at him, as if to bring him closer.
And closer he came.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered as he entered her, hating every painful whimper that came from her lips as he pushed into her.
The tension in her arms emanated from her, as so he was slow to move deeper.
She let out a ragged breath as he pressed farther until he was completely surrounded by her.
If he had been at her beck and call before, now he was her servant, for all that mattered was this moment, this connection between them.
After a moment, Grace’s hips lifted and he began to pull out, before pushing back in, settling in a rhythm that would surely kill him.
“James,” she begged, her eyes closed. “Yes, more.”
He would remember those words until his last breath, he decided as he began to pump into her, faster, deeper, until his own body began to tense as she clutched around his shaft. Before he could finish, he pulled out of her, releasing himself on the sheet beneath them.
It was almost as painful as it was pleasurable. James fell to the bed by her side and pressed his face into the bed, only vaguely aware of the scent of mint as she rolled over.
For a long moment, neither spoke, but only watched one another. As their breathing evened out, James couldn’t help but smile, his hand reaching to touch her cheek. Reaching for her, he pulled her close to his chest and they both fell asleep.
Some hours later, when it was dark, James opened his eyes. Grace was still there, pressed against him, but by the stilted breathing, he guessed she was awake, so he hugged her.
“I can’t believe that happened.”
“Me neither,” she replied. “Thank you.”
He chuckled.
“Love, you never need to thank me. The pleasure was all mine.”
But at the word love , Grace sat up.
“There’s no need to call me that.”
He frowned as he came up onto his elbow.
“It was only an endearment.”
“I know, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t use it.”
“Very well.”
A moment of silence.
“It’s just that—”
“I don’t see how—”
They both started and stopped. After a moment, Grace gave him a smirk.
“It’s just that, I don’t wish anything more to develop between us.”
“Anything more?”
“Yes. Besides physical relations.”
James nodded, though a hole felt as if it had just developed in his chest and a strain in his throat. He had not expected her to say that and rolled onto his back, staring up at the canopy. Perhaps this wasn’t as clever an idea as he first thought.
Sitting up, he climbed out of bed and went to her water table. Picking up a washcloth, he dipped it in water and went back to Grace. He attempted to clean her, but she was quick to take it from him.
“Thank you.”
He watched, feeling muddled. This was not what he had expected and yet, it was exactly what he had agreed to. A situation without attachments.
“I suppose I should dress then?” She shrugged. “And be on my way?”
“If you think so.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly encouraging. Deciding not to further embarrass himself, he began to dress, as did she, although she dressed in a night gown.
It was night, but what the exact time was, James didn’t know.
He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone, but he wasn’t likely to get any sleep here and she would refuse letting him stay, should her aunt come back in the middle of the night.
“Thank you,” she said, and for some reason James felt a small little stab in the heart at her words, but he had agreed to her terms and therefore had no room to speak.
“Of course,” he said and with a final nod, he left.
Walking through the house and out the back kitchen, across the street, James felt wholly empty.
Like a discarded rag. When he reached his front door, he turned back to gaze up to see if she was maybe looking out of her window, but to his own misery, he found that she wasn’t and so he opened the door to his house and tried not to think about how painful an encounter it had actually been.