Page 45 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

“I was afraid to bring a candle. With the house in a U-shape, the light, though faint, could be seen from too many places.” Evan pressed a tender kiss against her brow. “I’m glad you came.”

“And miss my final lesson?” she said lightly, not wanting to reveal the depth of emotion running through her.

His hands dropped away. “We wouldn’t want that to happen.” His tone matched hers.

“I was thinking once you tutored me a final time, we might merge all of our lessons together. Like a musical piece with several movements.”

His even, white teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “First, let’s see if you can master tonight’s lesson. Shall we begin?”

“I’m ready,” she proclaimed, her nerves fraying even as anticipation caused her heart to beat rapidly.

Her eyes began to adjust to the dim moonlight and she could now see Evan’s face. He was handsome beyond measure—and for the next hour?

He was hers.

His hands came up to cradle her face. Just his touch caused a quickening inside her, a longing for this man and everything he had to offer. He gazed at her, a trace of a smile playing about his lips, and then he bent and touched his mouth to hers.

Finally.

Rachel had no idea what came next, knowing she would follow his lead as she had in their other lessons. Her palms flattened against his muscular chest to steady herself as he softly brushed his lips against hers. A wonderful tingling rippled through her. In this moment, she felt treasured.

Evan’s kiss changed. His hands left her face and glided along her neck, coming to rest on her shoulders. As he lightly gripped them, his tongue slowly outline the shape of her mouth several times, a languid, drugging feeling. A tremor ran through her. Then he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, teasing them open. The moment she granted what he wished, his tongue swept into her mouth. A thousand feelings came alive inside her as her fingers grasped his linen shirt.

His kisses were playful to begin with and then grew in intensity. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his and heard a low, satisfied groan. Rachel hadn’t known you made noises when you kissed. She’d been holding back. But no longer.

She began matching him, stroke for stroke, as his fingers pushed into her hair. They both began making small sounds to let the other know how pleased they were. He ran his fingers throughout her hair, causing her breath to quicken. Then he tugged on her curls, forcing her head back, giving him better access. The kiss deepened.

Evan’s arm went about her waist, pulling her against him, crushing her breasts to his chest. She could feel his heart beating as wildly as hers and sighed with happiness, knowing he was as affected by her as she was by him. His fingers went to the nape of her neck and held her in place, his thumb stroking the side of her neck even as his tongue stroked hers.

Time didn’t exist as one kiss blended into another. Not only did her heart pound violently, but at the apex of her core, a primal beat had begun, a throbbing that demanded to be taken care of. By him.

His mouth finally left hers as his lips trailed along her throat, nipping lightly before his tongue soothed where his teeth had been. He found the tie to her dressing gown and loosened it before parting it, revealing her night rail. He walked her backwards until she bumped against a table and he lifted her atop it. His mouth, warm and wet, traveled to her nipple and he laved it through the gown. She felt it grow hard as he put his mouth against the thin cloth and worked his tongue along it, nibbling and sucking greedily. His kisses were driving all reasonable thoughts from her head.

Evan moved to satisfy the other breast and her body began to vibrate all over, humming like a musical instrument’s strings being tuned as he played her. His mouth traveled back to hers and kissed her over and over, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, and every way in-between. Rachel’s arms went around his neck and she stood, pushing against him, demanding more from him. His hands clasped her waist, the thumbs stroking her ribcage, causing her to tremble.

She finally understood what Leah meant about kissing. Why Jeremy and Catherine couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even after being wed and having the twins. Rachel ran her hands along Evan’s muscled arms, up and down, and then wrapped her arms about his waist, pressing as close as she could as they continued to kiss. She didn’t know where her breath started and ended because it was a part of his.

The back of his hand brushed against her belly and then moved lower. The kisses became more heated as Evan’s fingers trailed downward. Then his hand cupped her nether region and Rachel murmured in the back of her throat. He must have understood what she wanted—what she needed—as his hands yanked her night rail up to her waist. Evan slid a finger inside her and she almost exploded from the intimate touch. Slowly, he stroked her, maddening her, fulfilling her, making her gasp. His tongue began to mimic his finger, lovingly stroking her. Another finger joined it, doubling her pleasure.

A sense of something building inside her like a tidal wave caused Rachel to hold on to him tightly. Then the wave erupted, flowing over her like waves crashing against a rock. She whimpered. She panted. She cried out his name but it was lost as he kissed her deeply. Clinging to him, her body quivered with the deepest of pleasure. The waves subsided, leaving her weak and spent. She was afraid she might collapse into a puddle at his feet.

Evan must have sensed this for he swept her off her feet and sat on the table with her in his lap. His kisses softened and then only his lips brushed against hers. He tenderly kissed her cheek and then her brow. She rested her cheek against his chest, his heart bumping against her ear.

They sat that way for some minutes, Rachel cradled in his arms, Evan kissing her hair as he lightly stroked her back. She never wanted this to end.

And then it did.

He stilled his hand and ceased kissing her hair. He rose and placed her on her feet again. Rachel still held on to his waist, reluctant to let go, knowing she was touching him for the very last time.

“You’ve learned your lessons well,” he said huskily.

She wished she could see his eyes but they were hidden now in the shadows. She wanted a glimpse into his soul. Wanted a chance to see if he might possibly wish to make a commitment to her.

Finding her voice, she said, “I had a wonderful tutor. And I’ve always been an exceptional student.”

He cupped her face again. “Remember, my sweet Rachel, this kind of kissing is like playing with fire. You can easily be burned. Kiss a man if you’re truly attracted to him. If you think he might make you a good husband. If you feel a spark between the two of you, then by all means try a few kisses with your tongue. That should tell you whether or not you’re meant for one another.”

Her heart cried out that they were meant for each other but she could already feel him withdrawing from her. The Marquess of Merrick had no intention of wooing her. He’d done as she asked on the night they met—taught her how to kiss.

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