Page 48 of When the Viscount Seduces
“Do you need the next word?” she asked.
He recalled what she’d said and gave his head a light shake. Picking up the thread, he went on, but only for a few lines because that was all he’d memorized. “That’s all I have,” he said.
She leapt up from her chair. “That’s half, Lazarus!”
Her use of his name and her boundless excitement made him grin. She set the parchment down and moved around the table to where he stood. Then she hugged him, her arms curling around his neck. “I’m so proud of you,” she said softly, her lips near his ear.
Lazarus froze. But only for the barest moment. Then he snaked his arms around her and held her tightly against him.
She pulled her head back and looked him in the eye, her lips parted. Giving him the slightest nod, she lifted her mouth to his.
Lazarus needed no further urging, nor did he want to hear the voices in his head telling him to stop. He kissed her eagerly, desperately, passionately. This was not a tentative embrace like the other night. This was a meeting of two people who wanted nothing more than to be in the other’s arms.
He should not want this. He should not allow this. And yet, if the house were on fire as her veil had been, he would not have been able to stop.
She met the thrust of his tongue with her own and clasped the back of his neck, her fingers tugging gently on his hair. Lazarus pressed his hands into her back and clutched her hip, pulling her pelvis to his.
Their incoherent noises and soft moans surrounded him, plunging him into a seductive haze. The kisses ended, then started anew, then deepened as their bodies moved together, seeking and touching. Lazarus picked her up and set her backside on the table, moving to nudge himself between her legs as best her garments would allow. He kissed away from her mouth, exploring her jawline and her neck, moving down to the hollow of her throat.
Gwen clutched at his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. He brought one hand to the underside of her breast, cupping her. She arched toward him, eager for his touch. Lazarus was fast losing control, if he ever had it to begin with.
He should step away from her. Hell, he should run away from her. Instead, he lifted his head and kissed her again as he stroked his hand over her breast. She kissed him back with a passionate zeal that killed any inclination he had to stop.
Nipping at her lower lip, he flattened his hand against her bare skin, above and between the lace fichu that was tucked into her gown. How he wanted to slip his hand into her bodice and explore as much of her flesh as he could. But he couldn’t risk disrobing her in his friend’s library.
He shouldn’t be risking any of this.
Reason finally took control, and Lazarus dragged his mouth from hers. He took a step back, his breath coming fast and his pulse racing. His cock throbbed with urgency, desperate for release—forher.
Gwen’s lips were dark pink and kiss swollen, her eyes luminous with desire. Lazarus wanted her more than ever.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, her voice low and seductive. “I was enjoying that immensely.”
“As was I.” Lazarus took a deep breath to try to calm himself. “However, we must not continue. We weren’t even supposed to start. I recall you saying we would put what happened at the salon behind us, and you were right to say that. Today was a mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake,” she said with an utterly charming smile.
Lazarus nearly groaned with frustration. She was not making this easy. But then, he doubted tearing himself away from her and doing what he must do next would be nothing but excruciatingly difficult and painful. “Nevertheless, it was amistake. Even our meeting was a mistake. We will need to forgo future tutoring sessions.”
Her eyes rounded, and she pushed herself off the table. “No. We can’t do that. I’m committed to helping you.”
As she moved toward him, Lazarus took another step back. “I do appreciate that. However, I am committed to not ruining you, which means we can no longer see one another.”
“You won’t ruin me,” she said with such earnestness that he nearly believed her. Hewantedto believe her. But he knew himself. And while he was a rogue, he was something else entirely with her. She consumed his thoughts, and if he didn’t back away now, they risked being trapped together forever.
Would that be such a bad thing?
Lazarus nearly gasped at the tiny voice in the back of his mind. He had to have misheard it. Bloody hell, he was so far gone, he was listening to nonsensical utterances in his head.
“Gwen, please understand that this is not about you—it’s entirely me. You know what sort of man I am. Apparently, I can’t even help myself when it’s in my best interest to do so.” An ache centered in Lazarus’s chest. He knew her tutoring was helping him. To walk away from it now seared into him and left him feeling…less. But what she’d done so far would have to be enough.
Her brow puckered. “This is my fault. I never should have asked you to kiss me. And today, I’m afraid I was swept away by the same impulse. If you weren’t such an excellent kisser?—”
Now, Lazarus did groan. “Please stop. We can’t even talk about this.” His body was already on tenterhooks in her presence. Discussing their mutual attraction and how much she liked his kissing was not going to help matters.
Her lovely face fell, as if he’d just told her that her horse died. “I’ve let you down, Lazarus. I’m so sorry.”
“You havenot.” He wanted to touch her, to assure her she’d done everything right, but he couldn’t dare. “You have given me something I have long been without—hope. My father started me on a journey to read, and you have helped me along that path. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”
