Page 16 of My Lady Rake

Fragments of her dream came to her. Or was it not a dream? It had seemed so real. She was at a masquerade wearing a gown embroidered with white feathers from the bodice to her hem. Her half-mask was a swan’s head that covered her eyes and forehead, with a sweep of feathers curving around the side of her head.

She stood on a small balcony not much larger than Juliet’s, and somewhere in the distance the guests at the ball danced and conversed. She was waiting for Levi to come to her, certain he was going to propose. He’d hinted at how special the night would be, and she was eager for him to join her.

A pair of masculine arms wrapped around her from behind and drew her back against his warm body. In a gravelly whisper, he spoke in her ear, “Say you’ll be mine.”

“Yes,” she whispered back, then she turned and kissed him.

And that kiss was unlike any other Levi had given her. Possessive yet gentle, seductive and needy all at once. He’d held her head while parting her lips with his tongue and exploring her mouth. The little thrusts of his tongue mimicked the way his hips rocked against hers sometimes when they kissed and made her want to feel his body next to her. She leaned into him, letting her tongue tangle with his, causing him to groan.

Then he drew back and gazed into her eyes from behind a black mask.

It wasn’t Levi.

She pushed him away. “How dare you!”

“What shocks you more, Miss Verity? The way I kissed you, or the way you reacted?”

She couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, even though it was the truth. “Who are you?”

He smiled. “The next time we kiss, you will beg me for more. You will be mine, Verity.”

She opened her mouth to argue, to shout for someone to come, but he hopped over the edge of the balcony and scrambled down the ivy growing on the wall.

Then Levi arrived, and she remembered the hoped-for proposal he’d hinted at, and all thoughts of her assailant left.

That wasn’t just a dream, it had happened. Levi had proposed, and she never learned the identity of the man who’d kissed her.

And suddenly she knew exactly who he was.

Lord St. Ervan.

CHAPTER7

More than a week passed before Verity remembered the dream. Had it really been St. Ervan who’d kissed her on the balcony that night, thirteen years ago?

It couldn’t be true. She hadn’t known him then. Whoever he was, he was nothing more than a rogue taking advantage of a masked ball to kiss women at random, willy-nilly.

Yet one night standing on the steps behind her town house had her questioning the memory once more. She was wrapped in St. Ervan’s arms in the cool night air. Somewhere nearby someone played the pianoforte, and laughter rang from another house down the street. But St. Ervan’s lips were carrying her away somewhere magical.

When they broke apart, she rested her head on his chest and listened as his heart raced beneath her cheek. He drew his fingers across her back above the neckline of her gown. “I can’t kiss you enough, it seems, to satisfy my need of you.”

Verity shivered at his touch. “I’m glad. Even if I am confused.”

His hand stilled. “Don’t fret about it. Just let it happen.”

She wanted to ask what she was supposed to let happen, but he leaned down and kissed her and she forgot anything but the taste of him. Never had a kiss been like this. Passionate. Loving. Like a gift from his heart.

His touch had her nerves frazzled. She tugged the back of his shirt from his trousers to feel his skin. The muscles of his back were taut under her hands. Each sensation, each scent of him and sound of his breath fed her. This was more than sex. More than physical.

St. Ervan broke away. “Not here on the steps,” he said, panting and grinning. “Too dangerous.”

He led her to her room, yanking off her gown as usual before she even reached the bed. As soon as the fabric cleared her head, he captured her mouth again. Their hands worked as quickly as their lips, tugging at the buttons on his waistcoat and the fall of his trousers. St. Ervan almost fell when he tried to sit on the bed and take off his boots. “Give me a minute.”

“Too long,” she grumbled, tugging at the heel of his raised foot. His boots slipped off, and she yanked at his stockings, then finally his trousers. “At last,” she said when he sat gloriously naked in front of her.

Forgetting her own nudity and the usual discomfort it brought, she knelt and cradled his balls in one hand while wrapping her other around his throbbing erection. He was hard for her. That fact had to be the most arousing notion. The sound of him sucking in air when she licked the moisture off the tip of his cock was a close second. Nothing would please her more than to please him at this moment.

She flattened her tongue and laved him, then took him deep in her mouth until he reached the back of her throat. Tightening her lips, she slowly drew back, flicking her tongue around him as she did. She built a rhythm, her own need growing as she felt him swelling in her mouth.