Page 51 of The Lady is Trouble
More than the physical, this was thesoul.
“What can I teach you, Yank?”
Her jaw tensed beneath his palm, her body trembling. Or maybe it was his, being played, an instrument of her pleasure. Her hands found his waist, slid beneath his coat, and up his back. Clothing, too much damn clothing sat between them, he agreed with her whispered entreaty.
“What can I give you?”
She answered with pure, fearless sweetness: “Everything.”
“Everything,” he vowed and molded his lips to hers.
Years later, she would recall the moment with perfect clarity.
Momentous, because it was the first time Julian gave of himself fully.
As he pulled her to him with a tortured moan torn deep from his throat, she comprehended,finally, the exceptional force of his desire.
And the overwhelming possibility of her own.
She wanted to explore his body, every swell of muscle, every rise of sinew. She wanted all of him.All.
More, she thought, or perhaps it was a murmur against his lips because he reacted, pinning her to the wall as he angled her head until, ah,yes…
Their lips melded, faultless penetration.Thiswas the wondrous connection he’d held from her.
Beneath his coat, she dug her nails into crisp linen as he growled and arched into the touch. Going on instinct, she lowered her mouth to his neck and sucked a patch of skin just beneath his jaw between her teeth. Because it brought such bliss, the taste and smell of him rushing through her, she repeated the act just above his stiff shirt collar, marking him.
He blinked, lashes fluttering. So handsome in the wash of moonlight, eyes a slate glimmer in the darkness. She couldn’t stop herself from framing his face, words she wasn’t even sure made sense leaving her. He groaned and lifted her from her crouched spot, swept the books from the desk and placed her bottom atop it as his lips captured hers.
The perfect fit they’d found was a robust memory, and their bodies evoked it with ease.
Julian stepped between her legs, nudging them wide, a refreshing burst of air sweeping her ankles as he yanked her skirt high. Moving in, he sighed her name, taking her bottom lip between his and biting gently. A low moan she couldn’t contain slipped free, and she twisted atop the desk, grasping his shoulders, searching for deliverance. The flood of heat between her thighs should have been disconcerting when it felt like a victory.
“Jules,” she whispered, her thread of yearning pitching her voice high, “please.”
He drew back to kiss her upper lip, her cheek, a tender spot beneath her jaw. Gentle, teasing nips, each sending her heart in a race against her ribs. The sound of a clock in the hallway, his breath in her ear. The taste of his skin on her tongue. His body shifting as she tugged on his coat sleeve. Imaginings were running riot like the blood in her veins as she sought to collect them.
He moved so purposely while she was frantic. “Quit tormenting me.”
“Maybe this will help,” he murmured against her neck. The same stimulating chill assaulting her lower extremities hit her chest as Julian adjusted the neckline of her gown just enough to free her nipple from her corset. Her head fell back, arms going behind to support her body, the position one he used to his advantage. Circling her nipple with his tongue, it peaked, a rigid point he then laved so tenderly it was nothingbutthe most extreme pleasure of her life.
“Just like that,” she said in a voice that did not sound hers, an answer when there had been no question.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him closer, seeking to join—nothing to do with experience and everything to do with intuition.
He lifted his head, her nipple trailing across his stubbled jaw, sending another sizzling pulse through her body. A hum of desperation climbed from her throat. In response, he palmed her breast, set his thumb to the moist tip in a teasing, insistent rhythm. He was not going to offer mercy, a respite. He glanced down at their bodies, intent and focused, calculating even, so like Julian, her heart lurched.
“You are flawless,” he said, his words torn, ragged. “Magnificent. But not quite where I want you to be.”
Issuing whispered commands against her cheek, he slid her forward and shifted his hips until the unbelievably hard length of him met her pulsing center, chaperoned by nothing more than the thin layer of her drawers. The height of the desk pure kismet, it brought their bodies together in a most beneficial way. High desk, tall man. He rolled his hips as he claimed her mouth, the rhythm of his tongue set to their bump and grind as she picked up the challenge and met him, beat for beat. She released her hold on the desk and tunneled her hand into the tufts of hair hanging over his shirt collar. Tightening her legs around him, she helped drive the movement, showing him exactly what she wanted.
What she loved, what sheneeded.
Her skin tingled, a recognizable buzz filling her ears. The heady sensation of an orgasm calling to her.
“I’m close,” she murmured. “Don’t…stop.”
He stilled, his mouth falling from hers. Even in the muted light, she could see the color drain from his face, his aura sparking at the edges. “How…”