Page 55 of The Grand Mistletoe Assembly
Wandering through the dark room to find an equally shadowy hall, one of the door handles finally gave way to Nathaniel’s hand. Within moments, they tumbled into an empty study. Bryony held back giggles at the absurd pair they made—two grown adults sneaking around a party like wayward children—but for the first time in years, she was truly enjoying herself.
“What if we’re caught?” she asked breathlessly, not caring one way or the other as long as Nathaniel kissed her again. His mouth had driven her to distraction for years, and their brief peck under the mistletoe wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her yearning. Nor were the kisses to her burned fingers.
“What if we are?” His mouth skimmed down her cheek and lowered to her neck. “You forget these aren’t your high society prudes. No one here will judge us or spread gossip because it could very well be them who’s discovered next.”
“Fair point.” Tonight’s party was leagues apart from the ball they’d attended earlier. Whereas the charity auction remained sedate and full of social decorum, Mrs. Hanover’s soirée resembled one of those bawdy paintings of Greek orgies—not that the guests were quite as scandalous, or so she assumed, but they were certainly freer with their favors than the attendees of the Grand Mistletoe Assembly.
“Now if you’re done worrying about your reputation …” He whipped her around to face the desk at the center of the study, and a large hand at her back urged her forward until she was bent over, palms down on the mahogany. Nathaniel leaned down to whisper in her ear, causing wisps of curls to tickle her skin. “… I believe I promised a thoroughly debauching evening.”
“Did you?” Surely she would’ve recalled such a promise.
A devilish rumble of amusement vibrated from his chest at her back. “Perhaps only in my mind. This evening’s been a war between what I should do as a gentleman, and what I crave to do as a man. I’m afraid the wicked side of me won out.”
Thank goodness.
Anticipation darted through Bryony’s veins, her heart beating as fast as a runaway carriage, as she awaited his next move.
The warmth from his robust form at her back disappeared before the featherlight touch of his fingers traced the delicate bones of her ankle.
What was he doing down there?
“I’ve always admired you, Bryony. Did you ever guess at my secret attraction?” A hand settled on the calf of her other leg. The chill of the room breached the layers of her gown to glide across her skin as Nathaniel steadily pushed the fabric higher. “You were always so prim and proper. And exceedingly beautiful. It frustrated and panged me at the same time, wondering if you ever cared for me—even a little.”
“I cared for you too much. That’s why I clung to the rules of etiquette. Why I took pains to be unerringly polite,” she admitted. Best to lay all her cards on the table now that they were traveling down this path of honesty.
CHAPTER 6
Bryony cared for him.Too much.
Nathaniel felt like he’d captured the greatest prize of his career, and it wasn’t Spanish or French—it was a perfect English rose, his Bryony.
Skimming his lips over the ticklish spot behind her knee, he hummed low in satisfaction. “And now? You’ve thrown off the manacles of etiquette and politesse in favor of … What? What do you desire, love? Just a kiss beneath the mistletoe? Or more? So much more …”
Bryony shivered, whether from the cool room or the heat of his mouth, he wasn’t sure, though he knew which he preferred.
“I want everything, Nathaniel. Everything you’ll give me.”
“Do you understand what you’re asking for?” He ghosted a breath over the inside of her thighs, gently spreading her legs farther apart as she draped lower on the desk to accommodate him. “If I taste you … If I give you what you want, what we both need … Our friendship will irrevocably change.”
“It already has,” she whispered through heavy breaths. Something rolled across the desk and bounced off his shoulders, evidence of Bryony’s restlessness as she fidgeted under his hands. “Now we know about each other’s attraction. Have learned the exact shape and pressure of the other’s lips. How can we possibly go back to friendship? Back to both of us living with this hunger buried in our hearts? The answer is we can’t. We must see it through to the end.”
Nathaniel didn’t like that. Didn’t care for the idea of anything ending between them.
“If that’s the case, then I suppose I must proceed as planned. Tell me, love, have you ever been kissed … here?” His long fingers slid between her damp folds to rest against the pulsing bud of her sex. The sweet smell of her arousal twined around his senses to settle deep in his gut, then lower to draw a drop of seed from his own throbbing member.
It had been years since he’d bedded a woman. For some reason, the ladies of his acquaintance had stopped appealing to him, his lust reserved for one woman alone. Even if it had seemed hopeless at the time.
It wasn’t hopeless now.
A stuttering “no” almost made him shout with joy. It was barbaric. Ungentlemanly. Yet Nathaniel couldn’t help the swell of male pride ballooning in his chest. He’d be the first man to drink from her honey, and he intended to be the last.
“Then hold tight, love,” he warned, leaning forward to begin the seduction of his sweet Bryony.
A teasing nip here.
A hard suck there.
He kept Bryony on edge, building the tension with each lap of his tongue. He wanted to erase memories of her horrid marriage. Needed to replace every thought of her dead husband.
