Page 69 of When the Viscount Seduces
She dug her fingers into his neck. “You absolutely deserve it. You have seen me as no one ever has. Please don’t turn away from my love. I couldn’t bear for you to do that.”
He kissed her again, more gently this time, his tongue mating with hers. She moaned softly as he stroked her sex once more, his fingers moving softly, delicately.
Guiding them toward the stairs, he lifted her right leg and set her foot down on the third stair. “Put your foot here.” Now she was more open to his touch and could be more stable.
“Lazarus,” she rasped as he opened her folds and rubbed his thumb against her clitoris.
She clutched him tightly, her hips rotating against his hand. Nonsensical noises and moans escaped her lips, and Lazarus kissed her so no one would hear her.
He increased his speed, urging her toward ecstasy. Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth to her ear. “I want you to come for me. But you must be quiet. Can you do that, my love?”
“I will try, but I can’t say I know what to expect.”
For a brief moment, Lazarus considered ending this blissful interlude. This was not how she should experience ecstasy for the first time. But she was right in wondering if they’d ever have a moment together again. He wasn’t going to let her go without giving her something beautiful to remember.
He put all his attention onto her sex, stroking and coaxing until she was panting, her pelvis moving in wild jerks. Kissing her again, he slipped his finger into her slowly, astonished by how wet she’d become. His cock ached to fill her, to claim her, but this was entirely for her pleasure. His could come later.
After pumping his finger into her, he withdrew it to work her clitoris, then he thrust into her again. Over and over, he pushedher to the brink. He felt her muscles clench, and knew she was on the precipice.
Then she cried out into his mouth, her body trembling madly. He held her close and guided her through her orgasm until her body began to calm. He withdrew his hand and moved her foot to the floor.
Her breathing began to slow. “This can’t be the only time we have. It isn’t fair. There has to be a way for us to be together.” Her eyes met his. “Unless…you don’t want to marry me.”
“I do want to marry you, but I can’t. Not yet.” He couldn’t tell her the truth, not right now. The potential rumor from Eberforce and her father’s betrothal negotiations had further complicated matters. It seemed fate did not want them to be together. “If you can wait, things may change.”
“Maychange? If we wait, I will be wed to Markwith.”
No, Lazarus would do everything in his power to keep that from happening. Footsteps on the stairs below them jolted him into action. He took her hand and pulled her to the door. “You need to go. Just…don’t marry Markwith. Not yet.” Not ever. But how could he expect her to wait for him if he would end up being forced to wed Miss Worsley?
She kissed him on the mouth and met his gaze. “I will wait. I love you, Lazarus, and I don’t want anyone but you.”
Then she was gone, and Lazarus closed the door then leaned his forehead against the wood.
“All right there, sir?” a male voice asked from behind him.
“Yes, just taking a respite away from the noise of the ball,” Lazarus said before opening the door and walking out into the garden. The night air felt even colder, or perhaps he was merely registering the loss of Gwen.
She might not want anyone but him now, but when she learned what he’d been accused of, she would understand just how terrible his behavior had been. He had much to be ashamedof, and he hated that he’d dragged her into this. Lazarus hoped Eberforce wasn’t here, for if he was, Lazarus might call the man out.
Making his way back to the gaming room, Lazarus walked inside, intent on departing the ball as soon as possible. However, Shefford intercepted him almost immediately and steered him from the room. “What the devil is going on with you and Miss Price?” he demanded.
Apparently, Eberforce’s gossip was already making the rounds. “Nothing.” That was a laughable lie, but Lazarus couldn’t tell him the truth. He also couldn’t reveal that he already knew about the rumor. “What are you talking about?”
“There is a rumor making its way through the ballroom that you and she are having a liaison, that you meet at Droxford’s. But you’re saying that’s not true?”
“I am not having a liaison with Miss Price.” Not for want of trying. If it were up to Lazarus, he would be deep inside her this very moment. Only it wouldn’t be a liaison. He would make her his wife. The ache to have her, to claim her as his own, was overwhelming.
Lazarus wondered if Eberforce’s name was publicly attached to the gossip. “Who is spreading this rumor?”
“It originated with that dolt, Eberforce.”
“That right there should tell you it’s rubbish,” Lazarus said vehemently. “He’s been insulting Miss Price since she spilled something on him at Almack’s.”
“It sounds as though he needs to learn a lesson about grace and generosity.” Shefford scowled.
“Droxford would be most impressed with the pitch of your brows.” Lazarus was surprised he could find humor in this moment. He dearly wanted to find Eberforce and plant him a facer. Or ten.
Shefford’s forehead smoothed, and his brows went back to their regular position. “Speaking of Droxford, he’s going to be livid that Eberforce has dragged him and his wife into this salacious nonsense. Though, I can’t credit Eberforce with much intelligence, so I doubt he considered that.”
