Page 30 of Lucien's Gamble

Julienne turned, searching his face, and found him in deadly earnest. “Why?” she asked simply.

“You are the only woman I want.” Lucien cupped her face with both hands. “When you rejected my proposal, I lost my head. I’m not accustomed to being denied something I want so desperately. I am so very sorry, Julienne. You don’t have to forgive me. All I ask is that you believe my sincerity.”

His mouth lowered slowly, giving her the opportunity to pull away. With heartrending tenderness, he kissed away the tears she hadn’t known were falling. Julienne turned her head to capture his lips, and she was lost. Lost in his scent, his touch. Lost inhim.

“I believe you,” she whispered.

Lucien’s mouth brushed along her jaw and down her throat. “Why are you wearing this high-necked dress?” he murmured.

“To hide the bruises.”

He froze, his body turning hard as stone. His hands left her face and reached for the buttons on the back of her gown, his impatient fingers working with obvious familiarity of a woman’s clothing.

“Lucien, no,” she protested, agonizingly aware of the thinness of the curtain that separated them from the prying eyes of theton.“Not here. Not now.”

He dipped his head, hushing her with a kiss. Soon her gown gaped in the back, and he pushed it to the floor. He growled, his fingers brushing over their own prints left in the tender skin of her breasts. “Jesus,” he breathed.

Pulling her to him, he kissed her throat. His mouth wandered downward, kissing every mark he’d left on her. The touch of his lips was gentle, reverent. He whispered anguished apologies against her skin, and as he dropped to his knees in front of her, she could feel the wetness of his tears soak through her chemise.

The depth of his remorse, his openness of feeling, his willingness to show her his vulnerability, stunned her. This was a side of Lucien she had never seen. Julienne wondered if anyone had ever seen it.

As he pushed up her chemise, his hot breath ruffled the curls of her sex. She shivered, her blood heating, her heart racing. Lucien groaned and buried his mouth between her legs. Slipping a hand behind her knee, he lifted her leg free of her gown and pulled it over his shoulder, opening her to his ravishment.

Gentle fingers parted her, and Julienne sagged against the wall as his tongue delved deeper inside, licking her as if he savored the taste of her. She stared down, watching him, and her heart clenched in her chest. She could never have imagined the sight of the powerful Lucien Remington on his knees before her, his gorgeous eyes bright with grief and other more frightening emotions. With long, slow, sinuous laps he cherished her. He loved her leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, as if they were alone and not mere steps away from ruination.

Melancholy welled up inside her. “Lucien,” she whispered as his tongue thrust into her. “My darling.”

Her fingers slipped through his hair and wrapped around his scalp. His tongue probed deep, and she bit her lip to hold back her cries. The coiling tension wound tighter, and her hips thrust forward, seeking to deepen the contact. She rode his mouth, undulating against him, her lips parted as she fought to breathe. He latched onto her and suckled with expert, gentle force, knowing just what she needed.

Her back arched, her breath seized, her fingers tugged at his hair as she came against his mouth. Her orgasm rolled through her, over her, releasing the relentless tension that had gripped her for over a week. A week in which she’d fallen in love and then had her heart broken.

He soothed her tremors with soft laps, gentling her before rising to his feet.

Boneless, Julienne stood unmoving as Lucien dressed her. He drew her against his chest as he buttoned the back of her gown. When he was done, he rocked her gently in his arms. Never in her life had Julienne felt more cherished.

“It’s the last set,” he whispered.

“I must go,” she sighed. “Montrose will be looking for me.”

Lucien nuzzled her throat. “This set is reserved for me.”

“Be serious,” she murmured, kissing the sharp line of his jaw. “You cannot continue to ravish me in public venues. We’ll—”

“I am serious. Montrose is aware of my intentions and has promised to offer no objection. Say yes, Julienne.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m an excellent dancer.”

“You’re also a conceited rogue.”

“Ah.” His smile stunned her wits. “But you wouldn’t wish me to be any other way. Now, go out to the ballroom and wait for me.”

Tossing a skeptical glance over her shoulder, Julienne exited the alcove and moved down the hallway to the ballroom. Within moments, Lucien was bowing over her hand. She glanced at Hugh, who scowled.

“Do you wish to dance with him?” he asked, giving her the choice.

“Yes,” she breathed, waiting for his refusal and astonished when he offered a curt nod to Lucien.

“How did you do it?” she asked as Lucien led her to the line of dancers with a sure hand and a confident step. His powerful body moved gracefully, and she found herself eagerly anticipating the upcoming cotillion.

“Never mind,” he said, grinning. “I believe I’m in heaven. Your taste flavors my mouth, and your scent clings to my nostrils.” He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and sighed.

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