Page 43 of The Rake is Taken
She opened her mouth to ask him why he was showing her this when he cradled her jaw with his long fingers and captured her lips with his.
And her world compressed to nothing but their kiss.
Chapter 14
Finn kissed her to shut her up.
To keep her from probing him like a fresh wound, making him bleed more of his life out for her. He’d never brought anyone to this chamber, never even considered it. This space was personal, dreary, but snug, precisely what he needed when other’s thoughts were creating a painful drumbeat in his head and behind his eyes.Hewas often dreary; only no one knew it. Except, maybe she did.
Victoria was already so firmly embedded he didn’t know how to get her out. Or even what parts of him she hadn’t seen yet.
Extreme confusion on top of raging lust made for an inelegant partnership, he decided.
He also kissed her to assuage his feral compulsion. To touch, to savor, topossess. His longing had teeth when it usually contained as many sharp edges as a cake of soap.
Victoria bounced up on her toes to deepen the kiss when he set her back. Her eyes met his, dazed amber in the silvery light reaching them from the lone window. Her lips were moist, plump, inviting. Before she could argue, which she looked set to, he brushed his thumb across the bottom one and let his hand fall to the eyelets of her bodice. “Easy,” he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”
He’d once been very good with his hands, nothing like Simon, but a rather proficient cutpurse, and he made quick work of her clothing, trying to ignore the enthusiastic effect exposing her body to his hungry gaze was having on him. Laces, ties, hooks. Fewer layers than he’d expected, and he raised a brow when, except for her chemise and gloves, her clothing lay in a neat puddle of silk, linen, and lawn at their feet. A smaller puddle than it should have been. Not a silk stocking to be had.
Her cheeks tinted, the first blush he’d ever seen on her. “I took the liberty of leaving some pieces behind.”
Of course.
So, she wanted to seducehim.
He was charmed, troubled, reluctantly agreeable. He lowered his lips to her shoulder, creating a decadently moist abrasion through the thin cotton. Her breasts were straining against the material of her chemise, and he brushed the back on his knuckles across them. She smelled of hyacinth and nutmeg this time, sweet and spicy. His cock was hard, his body hot, his intellect aroused, his resolve weak. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen standing there in light that lit her up and hid her all at once. And he couldn’t read her mind, not one thought, not even a glimmer. This level of intimacy was unfamiliar, completely foreign. Joyful and erotic.
He’d never touched a woman without thoughts tainting the experience.
My God, he marveled and skimmed his mouth along the nape of her neck to her jaw,this is how it feels to truly love someone.
He made to remove her chemise, but she halted him with a low hum, knocking his hand aside and beginning work on the buttons of his shirt. When she fully exposed his scar, she pressed her lips to the mottled ridge, bottoming his heart out where he stood. “I’m going to ask about this,” she whispered, watching his shirt flutter to the floor, “but not now.”
He gripped her wrist when her focus slid lower. Took her hand and tugged her glove off, finger by finger by finger. Then repeated the process with the other hand, letting the gloves tumble to the floor. “Are you looking for a way to bring a man to his knees, Tori darling? I’m fearful that with a little exploration, you’ll figure out exactly how to do it.”
In answer, she placed her mouth over his nipple and sucked, lightly, gently. He shook his head, implying absolutely nothing, unable to banter if she was going to do that.
She laughed and freed her hand from his grip, hesitated, then covered his hard length. “Ah,” she murmured as if something surprised her. He was beyond asking what.
With a muffled groan of surrender, he backed up until his hip met the wall. By that time, she had most of his trouser buttons undone, his drawers down enough to free his cock. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes, ceding any plan to manage the encounter.
She wanted to explore, he gathered, from the fingertip cautiously tracing his rigid length in a leisurely, wonderfully awkward circuit.Okay, he decided and blew out a breath. He could allow this for one minute. Maybe two, if he kept his eyes closed and avoided studying her luscious body concealed only beneath a thin chemise. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself by not making it to the finish line. Not withher.
The only woman who would ever matter.
Going up on her toes, she resumed the kiss, tentatively stroking her tongue against his in the same rhythm as her hand caressed him. Moaning against her lips, he revised his calculation because her technique, surprisingly suitable for a beginner, was bringing that shiver to the base of his spine that meant his body was on a countdown to release.
Moving in, slowing down, he tangled his hands in her hair and walked her back. The mattress hit her mid-thigh, and she sprawled across the bed, her curls an ebony spill across the pale sheets. She rose to her elbow and flipped the jumbled strands from her face. “You liked it?” she asked with a half-smile.
He tilted his head, considering.God, yes. But he wasn’t about to admit it.
“What’s that look about?” she murmured, her gaze running the length of him as it had earlier. Like she was sketching him, one languid stroke at a time, setting him aflame with her earnest regard.
He flicked open the last button and stepped out of his trousers, kicking them aside. His drawers soon followed. Her eyes were dazzled, vulnerable, captivated. “Skin to skin will change everything,” he whispered in French, knowing it was probably a more complicated statement than she could translate.
A realization only devastating experience would bring.
She pinched the material of her chemise between her fingers and let it flutter back to her breasts. “There’s still this.”