Page 19

Chapter

Nineteen

A ngelica followed Benedict as discreetly as she could. She took one last look at the ballroom and the many guests mingling about the grand room and, satisfied no one was watching them, slipped out into a darkened corridor.

Before she could say a word to Benedict, he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her as if the world were ending and she was his only means of survival.

The hard, paneled wall was cool against her back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his mouth on hers.

Her body hungered for him, ached in the same places he'd teased yesterday afternoon.

She had left him then feeling unsatisfied and hungry for something she did not know, but an inkling told her it was something associated with the images in the book she'd found and what the couples were doing to each other.

She held him close, reveling in the press of his chest, the coarseness of his waistcoat and jacket against her sensitive flesh. Her silk gown no barrier to his hardier clothes. His hand slipped up her waist and cupped her breast, squeezing her a little until she whimpered in need.

"Oh, did I hurt you?" Benedict pulled back, a concerned shadow in his eyes.

"No," she said, shaking her head and reaching for his hand, placing his hold against her yet again. "Not at all. I like your touch, possibly too much."

He growled and took her lips, kissed her into madness until they were both writhing against each other, heedless of where they were or who could come upon them at any moment.

The distant strains of music from the ballroom were a world away.

It was madness, and absurd behavior for two people in their situations, but still the kiss did not stop.

The strokes of hand across her body left trails of need and sensation in their wake.

The undulation of bodies, pressing, seeking a release she believed would be life-shattering, but continued to be out of reach.

She clutched against him, fisted her hands into his hair and held him to her mouth, drank from him and reveled in the slide of his tongue teasing hers.

"I want you, Benedict. I cannot go much longer without having all of you."

He pulled back, stared at her, and, taking her hand, looked up and down the passage before pulling her into a nearby room. The space was void of people, the fire unlit and the curtain drawn partly closed.

There were settees near the fire and a billiard table situated at the other end of the large room.

Benedict reached behind her and closed the door, the snick of the lock loud in her ears. "Come." He pulled her toward the settee and she sat, looking up at him.

"Tell me what some of the things in that little sketch book you found has illustrated. Tell me what interests you most?"

Her mind tumbled over the many images she had seen and which ones had intrigued her the most. One came to mind, but how could she tell him of it without feeling unbearably embarrassed?

He kneeled before her, his large, warm hands on her thighs. His fingers squeezed her legs and she pressed her legs closed, trying to alleviate the want that pulsated at her core.

"The image that I saw, well, it was quite scandalous." Heat kissed her cheeks and the tips of her ears, her pulse thrumming in her throat. She was glad for the darkened room, the moonlight coming in through the curtains giving them just enough sight to see each other.

"Tell me of it. I want to satisfy you above anything else." Benedict bit his bottom lip and slowly started to push her legs apart.

His eyes were hooded, burning with a hunger and determination she’d never seen before. It left her breathless, as if she had run about Hyde Park. Her dress thankfully gave her some modicum of modesty, but his actions told her that it would not be for long.

"Very well, I shall tell you, but know that I do not expect you to do what I say.

I know we're both untutored." She paused, rallying her mind.

"The lady sat just as I am now, but her gown was up about her hips and the man's head, well…

His head was between her legs." Angelica closed her eyes as mortification swamped her.

Oh dear, had she really just said what she did? What must Benedict think of her?

She started when with slow, torturous strokes, Benedict slid her dress up her legs, exposing first her knees and then her thighs before she was bared to him from the waist down.

Angelica watched him, his face a mask of hunger and a delicious shiver stole down her spine.

This man was determined to please her, and something told her their friendship would never be the same again.

Everything would change after tonight.

No, that was not true. Everything had changed between them when they had almost kissed in Hampshire.

He dipped his head and brushed a kiss on the inside of her knee.

The sensation was intimate and soft, and Angelica fought not to demand he move faster, kiss her where she ached like some wanton hussy.

But she longed for him, having him kneeling before her, hers to command, did something strange and wonderful within her, made her want to be wicked and bold.

B enedict did not want to rush, to have this intimacy with Angelica end, and yet, he could not halt the need that pulsated through every part of his body.

Pulsated through his cock and left it pressing uncomfortably hard against his silk breeches.

He kissed along her thigh, licking her soft skin and making her squirm beneath his hold. She smelled divine, like a sweet, forbidden fruit just ripe for the picking. She lay back against the settee, watching him with a fascination he would forever cherish.

"I'm assuming this sketch showed the man kissing the woman here," he said, pressing his lips just above her mons, "and here." He slipped his hands beneath her legs and pulled her to the edge of the settee, giving him leave to do as he pleased and with very little restraint.

She attempted to close her legs, but he pressed them open, clicking his tongue in warning that she wasn’t doing as he wished. He needed to see her glistening sex, her excitement for what he was about to do to her. Hungered to see how much she wanted him.

Benedict dipped his head, kissing along her wet folds before licking her sweet flesh.

She tasted divine and he moaned, unable to hold back what she did to him, what he wanted from her.

He clasped her legs, grounding himself and took his fill, suckled her soundly until she was writhing beneath him.

She gasped, watched him, her eyes bright with wonder as he licked her soundly, kissed her most sensitive, most private of places.

Honored him with her trust.

Thankfully it did not take him long to understand the mechanics of his actions. Her movements with each flick of his tongue or suckle of his mouth told him she liked what he was doing. She undulated against him, his tongue lapping at her sweet flesh, unable to get enough of her.

He could stay here forever, if it were permissible.

“Benedict.” Her fingers spiked into his hair and he moaned, wanting her with a need that surpassed all else.

He reached for his falls, ripping them open and taking himself in hand. He'd not done so since he was a young man, and yet in two days he’d touched himself twice. But tasting her sweet cunny was too much and if he could not have her wholly, he would damn well find release another way.

She mumbled sweet nothings he could not make out, pressed closer to his touch and rolled her hips against his mouth. "Benedict, I'm… I do not know what, but…" She moaned his name, over and over as he stroked his cock and licked her cunny.

He wasn't so innocent that he didn’t know what was going to happen to her and he looked forward to being the man who brough her exquisite pleasure. Her release seemed to wash over her in waves. She clutched at the settee, spread her legs and allowed him to wring out every last tremor of her desire.

He sat back and watched her as she slowly regained her perspective, stroking his cock, wanting desperately to join her.

She sat up, her eyes widening at the sight of him pleasuring himself. "I want you."

He shook his head, not allowing them to go that far, and yet he did not stop her when she climbed off the settee and onto his lap. He sat back on his heels, reveling in the feel of her wet cunny as it brushed against his engorged cock.

His head spun.

Damn it all to hell, he would never survive this night.

He clasped her hips, attempting to hold her at bay, to stop what she clearly wanted, what they both wanted, but he knew the fight wasn't in him. Not anymore.

"Please, Benedict. I want to share this with you. With only you."

Her words undid him. He kissed her deep and long. Their tongues tangled, his mind lost to the pleasure of having her in his arms, pliant and giving, a beautiful woman, inside and out, that made his heart sing.

He lifted her slightly, clasped his cock and positioned himself at her core. She held his gaze as she slowly sank down onto him, pausing every so often to adjust to his size.

He breathed through the emotions that swamped him as she claimed him, as they claimed each other. His heart hammered in his chest, his mind tumbling through ideas of what he wanted to do with her, things that they were probably both not ready for.

She rose up and slid back down on his cock and he groaned.

Lost to sensation and need. Without thought he clasped her ass, picked her up and lay her back on the settee.

He came above her, her legs slipping about his waist before he thrust into her, took her with a need that left him breathless.

She writhed beneath him, her pretty features contorting into a mask of pleasure.

Never had she ever looked so utterly beautiful in her life. He pumped into her, making her his, over and over again. She slipped her arms about his neck, holding him close, and rose to meet his every thrust.

Stars danced behind his eyelids, and he knew he would never belong to the church again.