Page 42 of Road Trip With a Rogue
Her hair had escaped from its ribbon, loosened by his questing hands. It hung in a messy cloud around her shoulders, and he reached forward and wrapped a curl around his finger, using it to tug her forward.
She resisted, backing up, pulling him along until her thighs bumped the edge of the bed. She hadn’t bothered with a corset or stays. She was down to just her chemiseand a pair of white stockings now, and her skin grew hot as his gaze roamed down her throat and lingered on the peaks of her nipples clearly visible through the cream silk.
She’d bought the thing from her favorite dressmaker, Madame Lefèvre; her sole concession to feminine attire.
“Irresistible,” he murmured.
He reached out and cupped her breast, holding her gaze as it filled his hand. The pad of his thumb brushed the peak, and he gave a slow smile as it tightened even more.
Daisy felt dizzy. She’d never really given her breasts much thought, but now her entire focus was on the way he touched her so reverently.
She’d expected him to take her quickly, in a passionate blur of limbs, but the bloody man seemed determined to take his time. She sighed in relief when he lifted her to sit on the edge of the bed, but instead of ripping open his falls and thrusting into her as she longed for him to do, he bent and put his mouth over her nipple, suckling her through the silk.
She nearly shot off the mattress. His hot breath dampened the material and sent a flood of warmth to her belly, and when he repeated the gesture with the other breast, she arched and leaned back on her hands, offering herself up to the exquisite, teasing pull.
Just when she was about demand that he push aside the silk and kiss her skin, he placed his hands on her thighs, spread them open, and sank to his knees.
Chapter Twenty
Daisy grabbed his hair in surprise and tried to pull him back up, but he sent her a laughing glance and pressed a kiss to the soft skin on the inside of her knee, just above her stocking.
She gasped. “You don’t need to do that, Vaughan.”
“No?” He turned his head and kissed the other knee, and liquid heat almost dissolved her insides.
“Really, it’s fine. I’m already—”
He made a chiding little click with his tongue. “You’re ready when I say you’re ready, Dorothea.”
“It’sDaisy.” She groaned as he slid his hands higher, over the top of her thighs, shoving the silk higher. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She wasn’t wearing any drawers, and from his position he must be able to see everything between her legs. Tom had touched her there with his hands, but he’d never studied her the way Vaughan was doing.
She was open. Vulnerable. Exposed in the most primitive way possible. And when he slid his fingers between her legs, she let out an involuntary groan. She was already wet.
“Such a pretty flower,” he murmured dreamily. He swirled his fingers, circling her with such teasingly light strokes that she ground her teeth and shifted her hips, an aching mass of want.
“Vaughan,” she groaned, warning in her tone. “Stop playing.”
The puff of his chuckle warmed her inner thigh. “It’sLucien,” he chided, in the same tone she’d used to berate him. “You really should call me Lucien.” He slid his thumb over the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, then skated away. “Considering the circumstances.”
Obnoxious man. She wouldn’t call him Lucien. This wasn’t personal. It was physical. Just bodies, mutual pleasure, not something to get emotional about.
Her heart shouldn’t be singing at the hot, hungry way he looked at her, as if she were the only woman in the world. The way he breathed her name shouldn’t make her wish that she was more than just a willing body to him. That way lay madness.
But when he leaned forward and put his mouth on her, she almost screeched his name. Her fingers tightened in his hair to push him away, or drag him closer, she wasn’t sure which, but he placed one hand on her hip, holding her in place as he tasted her.
Daisy’s eyes rolled back in her head.
“Did your last lover dothis?” he purred.
“No!” she gasped, too far gone to even try to pretend.
Dear God, Tom had never used his mouth on her, although she’d used hers on him. Her breath came in soft pants and her stomach muscles tensed as Vaughan flicked and licked, and when he slid his finger inside her she bit her lip against the need to shout out.
It would feel so fucking good.
“God, you taste… so good.” His words were muffledagainst her skin and the vibration had her tightening her thighs around his head. She rolled her hips, trying to make him touch the place inside her that would send her over the edge.
She’d only reached the peak a few times with Tom; it had been more luck than judgment, but she could find it easily enough with her own hand. Especially when she was thinking of Vaughan.