she knew she had affected him this time. She could feel the taut muscled strength of his body beneath hers, and something more-the swollen hardness nestled in the cradle of her thighs.
Somewhat dazed, Roslyn opened her eyes and lifted her head. “There, that aroused you, I can feel it.”
“I would say so.” His voice was husky and amused as he caught her hand and drew it between their bodies to his groin.
It was shocking to touch the thick ridge of male flesh there; even through his breeches the heat of him was apparent. Yet she also felt a sense of triumph. She had wanted to learn how to arouse a man, and she had succeeded.
Suddenly recalling how improper it was to be fondling a man’s body, Roslyn quickly eased her hand from his grasp and made to rise.
“Not so fast, love,” Arden murmured as his arms closed around her to hold her in place. “We’ve barely begun your education in kissing.”
Without giving her a choice, he drew her head down again and resumed her instruction. But the tenor of his kiss changed. This one was harder, more powerful. If Roslyn had any thought at all of resisting, he shattered it quite thoroughly, his mouth slowly forcing hers open, his thrusting tongue seizing, claiming.
It was a kiss of possession, devastating, expert. The blatant sensuality of it was stunning as his mouth made love to her mouth, as his hands slid around her hips to capture her more firmly, letting her feel his hard arousal through their clothing.
Yet it was a trap from which she had no desire to escape. Instead, Roslyn kissed him back with an intensity that she would have thought utterly foreign to her nature.
They were both breathing raggedly when it finally ended. Drawing back, Roslyn stared dazedly down at him.
His eyes were dark and sensual as they surveyed her flushed face. “You look extremely kissable now,” he observed in a low rasp.
Roslyn had started to return a diffuse smile when she realized his hands had moved to the back of her gown and were unfastening the hooks. A small gasp escaped her when she comprehended what he was doing, but she made no protest as he pushed down the decolletage and freed her breasts from the confinement of her chemise and corset.
His eyes flashed as he bared the pale mounds to his hot gaze.
Her nerves knotting in near painful anticipation, she held her breath, knowing exactly what came next. She should stop him, Roslyn told herself sternly as he raised her higher to give his mouth better access to her nipples. But she couldn’t find the willpower.
Then he bent his head, and her heart leapt. He didn’t suckle her as she expected, though. His tongue merely circled one taut aureole, never touching.
Roslyn arched against him, wanting desperately for him to put his mouth there. Instead he merely played with her, his lips nibbling around the aching tip, deliberately arousing but never fulfilling.
“Your grace…” she murmured in a breathy plea.
“Call me Drew.”
“Drew…please.”
His hands moving to cup her naked breasts, he pressed his tantalizing mouth closer to her nipple. The first flick of his tongue made her breath hiss between her teeth. Then he drew back slightly to blow a stream of air across the wet bud. The delectable sensation sparked a low heat inside her belly and dredged a trembling pleasure sound from deep in her throat. When she felt the nip of his teeth against the sensitive tip, Roslyn whimpered. Yet he continued to deny her, his lips rubbing and teasing over her breasts.
Finally, however, he drew a dusky peak between his lips. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he sucked the engorged nipple deeper into the moist heat of his mouth, igniting a searing heat deep within her.
His tongue kept laving slowly, and each time he stroked, a new thrill shot through her. Roslyn shivered with heat as his lips suckled the peak to an unbearable tightness rivaling that in her chest. She felt almost faint with delight. She was drowning in sensations. He was a master at giving pleasure, and she accepted eagerly.
How wonderful it felt. How wonderful and thrilling.
When his teeth nipped her again, she moaned helplessly, so caught up in his erotic attentions that she was only vaguely aware his right hand had moved to her bare shoulder. It drifted down her back, caressing the arch of her spine, then lower over her hip and down the skirt of her gown. When he raised the hem, drawing it upward, she felt the sensation of cool air on her legs.
In contrast, his warm fingers fondled her bare thigh, stroking her skin in small undulations, teasing with lazy spirals and slow, erotic touches.
The trembling, shivery ache in her belly heightened by slow degrees, building until his caresses moved to her inner thigh. Then she tensed, wondering what he intended.
His hand had moved upward to cover her woman’s mound. When he cupped the warm, throbbing place between her thighs, Roslyn gave a start and abruptly lifted her head.
He held her startled gaze as his fingers parted the damp curls of her sex. When he began to stroke the wet folds of her flesh, the pleasure of his probing touch took her breath away.
Roslyn shuddered, her heart beginning to pound, yet she was unable to look away; he was holding her captive with the intensity of his eyes as he found the aching nub that was the secret of her femininity. She could feel urgent desire burning through her senses like fire. The powerful sensations centered in the shimmering, heated core of her body, and her hands clenched reflexively, digging into his shoulders.
Then one finger slowly slid inside her hot, slick moistness. The novel, shockingly intimate caress was wholly unexpected.
Gasping, Roslyn jerked her hips away as a feeling of panic suddenly assaulted her.
Her body jolting, she pushed herself off him and stood on shaken limbs, covering her naked breasts with her arms as she stared down at him.
“This was a m-mistake, your grace.”
A flame had kindled in the depths of his eyes, but his expression was as cool and enigmatic as ever.
Still dazed, she struggled to restore her clothing to order, feeling like the wanton she knew she had to look.
The duke said not a word as he pulled out a linen handkerchief from his coat pocket. His fingers were soaked with her essence, Roslyn saw to her mortification. The heated flush on her face rose when he wiped his fingers dry.
“I agree,” he said finally, his smile sardonic. “This was a mistake.”
The husky rasp in his voice stroked her nerve endings, reminding her that she had aroused him almost as much as he had aroused her.
Lord preserve her, Roslyn thought frantically, she had to put an end to this temptation. Certainly she couldn’t continue such intimate sessions with him. It was far too dangerous.
“We shouldn’t have any further lessons,” she said, her voice uneven.
A muscle in his jaw flexed, as if he might object, but all he said was, “Indeed.”
He returned the handkerchief to his pocket and stood. When he took a step toward her, though, Roslyn retreated.
His mouth curled. “You needn’t fear, darling. My intentions are somewhat honorable this time. Turn around and let me hook your gown. You don’t want your servants to see you looking so disheveled.”
She didn’t want him coming near her again, either, but she couldn’t manage the hooks easily on her own.
Reluctantly, she turned her back to him and held herself rigid as he performed the service of lady’s maid.
When he was done, he paused with his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “You should definitely contrive to kiss Haviland. He won’t be able to resist you. Good day, Miss Loring.”
Roslyn couldn’t bring herself to answer or even to look at Arden as he let himself out of the library. When he was gone, she stood there trembling and cursing herself.
How could she have allowed his lesson in kissing to go so far? She’d lost any shred of common sense the moment his lips touched hers.
