Page 31 of The Viscount's Daring Cinderella
She lifted her chin. “What ball do you refer to?”
He had to hand it to her. She recovered quite well. He took a step closer to her and drawled, “The masquerade ball where you were dressed as an owl.”
Her lips parted but no sound emerged. She stood transfixed.
“You were there?” Lady Beryl asked, pressing her palm over her chest.
He imagined that her heart was pounding. She seemed anxious that he mentioned it, and he was captivated. Her vulnerability, however fleeting, tugged at his senses. Somewhere in his mind it occurred to him that he was becoming too intrigued by her. It alarmed Theodore and he was unsure what to make of it. He tried so hard not to think of her because he wanted to honor the promise he made to himself.
“Yes, and we danced.”
Her eyes widened and then she gasped, “You were the wizard!”
Theodore’s heart stirred. “Indeed. Who was the pirate?”
“My dear friend Lady Flora Ely.”
“Ahh. So, now you know what I meant. Only someone with an adventurous spirit would have dared attend that masquerade ball.” Theodore teased her to lighten the mood because he could not deny the powerful attraction simmering in the air. He was never any good at tempering his desires, butby Godhe hadmade such an effort these past couple of weeks. Ever since she had come into his life, he felt an odd sort of imbalance.
Why, damn it? Why is she wreaking havoc on my senses?
The candle threw a glow over her face, and he wished she was not so enchantingly beautiful. Heat stirred in his loins. He had never wanted to take a lover to his bed as much as he wanted to take Beryl. Right here, right now. He should not do it. Theodore slammed his eyes closed.I must not!
“Yes,” she said in a breathy whisper as if she referred to something else. “I daresay I was a bit … audacious that night.”
He snapped his eyes open. Theodore’s heart pounded in anticipation. “I believe you saw something wicked that greatly interested you that night.”
Her eyes widened at the memory, and suddenly, the air was charged. He reached up and touched the tip of a finger to her lips, and she leaned into him.
“Do you know, I have never wanted another as I want you.” Even to his ears, Theodore sounded harsh … desperate.
Her stare appeared intrigued.
“I confess I like the notion that I can drive a man such as yourself mad with want.”
Bloody hell. Her honesty would be the death of him. The lady was not flirting, merely speaking her truth.
She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I never imagined desire could be this dangerous.”
A torrent of feelings raged in the pit of his stomach. “Go,” he said hoarsely. She did not flee, merely stared at him with that enigmatic look in her eyes. Something said he should be wary, and he almost laughed at himself. He was the one society called a rake. He was the one with experience.
“Do you know what I want to do with you, Beryl?”
“Kiss me,” she said softly. “I can see the need in your eyes.”
“You are not running.”
Her throat worked on a swallow. “I am not running. But I might slap your cheek …”
If you dare, remained unspoken.
Theodore took both glasses and placed them on the table. He pulled her tightly against him, and the floral notes of her perfume hung in the air. The room grew warmer, matching only his body heat, as he lightly stroked her cheeks then played his fingers across her lips once more. They parted for him, and he could feel her warm breath on his fingers. He desperately wanted to taste her mouth, but he would not. Theodore used the back of his fingers to trace her jawline down to her throat, and he could feel the rhythmic beat of her pulse. She sucked in a breath, flushing.
He took advantage of her low-cut dress, using a feather-light touch to caress her décolletage. Her bosom heaved as she strained for his touch. Her eyelids fluttered shut and when they reopened there was molten desire. Beryl’s breath came in short gasps. The round swell of her breast tempted him, and he gave in. He reached into her dress and pried one nipple free. Her stiff nipple left no doubt that she was aroused, and he caressed it between his finger and thumb. She held on to his shoulders, and a soft sound escaped her. Theodore rolled and pinched the nipple as Beryl dug her nails into his shoulders and strained against him. Still, he did not kiss her.
He reached for the nipple and flicked his finger across the sensitive mound, kneading it. His cock was hard, and he pulled her close so she could rock against him. She could feel how much he wanted her. There was no denying the raw, wild need between them.
Theodore stood and reversed positions with Beryl. Her back was now toward his desk, and he lifted her so she sat on the desk. He raised her skirt and parted her legs with every inch of the urgency he felt. She was not wearing hose, and he ran his handsalong her upper thighs uninhibited. He rested his forehead against hers, and he breathed in her moan of pleasure when his fingers played lightly over the apex of her thighs.
