Seduced at Midnight

Gideon didn't give her time to think, didn't give himself time to think, to reconsider. Damn it, he didn't want to think anymore. Couldn't fight this raw, raging need any longer. All he wanted was to feel. Her. All of her. Now.

He slanted his mouth over hers in a hard, hungry, demanding kiss. What sounded like a whimper came from her, but before he could even wonder if he'd hurt her, she proved he hadn't by winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.

He clasped her to him, every muscle straining to get her closer, while his tongue explored the velvet of her mouth. Bloody hell, if heaven had a taste, she was it. Soft, warm, sweet, and delicious. Her body fit against his like a piece of a puzzle he hadn't known was missing. A tiny granule of sanity tried to work its way through the wild, desperate need careening through him but was incinerated when she squirmed against him.

White-hot desire exploded, and with a groan that seemed ripped from the depths of his soul, he ran one impatient hand down her back to curve around her lush bottom, to pull her tighter against his aching body. Possibly, just possibly he might have been able to dredge up the strength to halt this madness if she'd remained passive in his arms. But with her fingers sliding through his hair, her tongue dancing with his, and her body writhing against him, he didn't stand a chance.

His other hand plunged into her hair, scattering pins, sifting through a cascade of soft curls. The seductive scent of vanilla filled his head, overwhelming him with the need to taste.

Without breaking their frantic kiss, he scooped her into his arms then lowered her to the hearth rug, following her down. While his lips continued to ravage hers, he insinuated his knee between her thighs, and his hand found the soft swell of her breast. A low groan sounded. Hers, he thought, but he couldn't be sure.

Needed to touch her… had to touch her. He yanked down her bodice until her breasts were freed, and only then did he find the strength to leave her lips. He kissed his way along her jaw then ran his tongue along the side of her neck, gently sucking on the throbbing pulse there.

'Gideon…' his name, whispered on that breathy sigh, ignited even more of the fire in him that he would have sworn couldn't burn any hotter. She arched beneath him, and he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue circled one nipple then drew the tight bud deep into his mouth while his fingers found the other crest. Her hands fisted in his hair and she gasped, then released her breath on a long moan of pleasure.

He kissed and nuzzled his way around her luscious breasts, teasing and licking with his lips and tongue, lightly grazing her soft skin with his teeth, while his hand wandered lower, exploring the curve of her waist and hips through her gown. When his fingers curled over her mound, her heat nearly singed him.

A single word pounded through his mind, the same mantra that had been driving him mad with want for the past two months. Julianne…Julianne. His usual control burned to ashes, leaving only a hot, raw, desperate need that demanded to be satisfied. Wanting, needing more, he reached down and slipped his hand beneath the hem of her gown. Skimmed his palm up her stocking-covered leg, over the gentle curve of her calf and thigh. His restless fingers unerringly found the slit in her drawers. The first touch of her slick feminine folds nearly undid him. Bloody hell, she was so wet. So hot.

She groaned again, and he lifted his head. And gritted his teeth against the arousing sight of her. Hair a golden tumble of disarray, moist, kiss-swollen lips parted, eyes glazed and half-closed, nipples erect and wet from his mouth. Bathed in the glow from the fire, she somehow managed to look like an angel and living, breathing sin at the same time.

He lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. 'Spread your legs,' he whispered against her lips.

She splayed her thighs, and he teased her wet folds with a single fingertip. 'Wider,' he demanded. Once again she did as he bade, her ragged breaths warming his face. She clutched at his shoulders and lifted her hips, and another groan escaped her, this one ending with his name.

'Gideon…'

'Shhhh,' he whispered against her ear.

'I… ohhhh, my… I can't. I feel as if I'm going to scream.'

'If you do, you'll bring the entire household down upon us.' He lifted his head and looked into her glazed eyes. 'Neither of us wants that.' God knows he didn't. He wasn't nearly done with her.

She pressed her lips together. 'I'll try to be quiet but- ohhhh-you're making it extremely difficult.' She glided her hand down his chest, over his abdomen, and his muscles jumped. 'I want to touch you, too.'

He pressed his erection against her hip to thwart her eager hand. Bloody hell, it was all he could do not to come as it was. One touch from her, and he'd explode in a heartbeat.

'Not now,' he said against her lips. He eased one finger into her tight sheath to distract her and had to grit his teeth to contain the growl that rose in his throat. By God, she was tight. And so damn wet. And hot. And soft. And he was so damn hard he was going to lose his mind. More, damn it. He wanted more. Now. Now.

He slipped his hand from her body and, ignoring her sound of protest, moved to kneel between her splayed thighs. Heart pounding as if he'd sprinted to Bow Street and back, he impatiently pushed her gown up to her waist. Quickly unfastened her drawers. Grimly noted that his hands were far from steady.

Desperate need unlike anything he'd ever experienced grabbed him in a vise. He yanked her thin cotton drawers down and off her legs, not pausing or caring when the delicate material tore. If he'd had the mind to do so, he would have been appalled at his lack of control, but he was beyond caring about anything save the dark, wild, reckless need clawing at him.

The instant he'd tossed aside her ruined drawers, he set his hands on her raised knees and urged her legs apart. Damp golden curls surrounded her glistening sex. He inhaled sharply at the sight, and his head filled with the musky tang of her arousal mixed with the intoxicating scent of vanilla. Bloody hell, it was the most delicious fragrance he'd ever smelled. Slipping his hands beneath her, he raised her hips and dipped his head.

Julianne bit her lips together to stifle the cry of surprise and shocking carnal pleasure that begged to escape. The sight of Gideon's dark head buried between her thighs alone was enough to wring a shout of delight from her. But what he was doing with his mouth… his lips… dear God, his tongue. His fingers. All of them relentless. Teasing, licking, flicking, delving, driving her mad. Helpless to do otherwise, she undulated against his mouth, desperately seeking more of the addictive pleasure. Her hands fisted against the carpet, her body tightening, coiling, straining, searching for an answer that remained just out of reach.

Then he performed some sort of magic with his fingers and mouth, and it was as if she'd been tossed into a storm of indescribable pleasure. An endless moan she couldn't contain escaped her as pulsing sensation engulfed her. When the spasms subsided, she lay gasping, boneless, dazed, her breaths coming in short, ragged puffs. Dear God, now she knew precisely what a few swipes of the tongue could accomplish.

Magic.

She felt Gideon gently lower her legs to the rug where they simply splayed open in utter, lax abandon. Felt him shift to lean over her, then his warm hand cupping her face. The pad of his thumb slowly brushing over her bottom lip.

'Julianne.'

Her name breezed across her face, and with an effort she dragged her heavy eyelids open. And found herself staring into dark, intense eyes that seemed to reach inside and touch her soul.

She raised an unsteady hand and brushed back the dark lock of hair that fell across his furrowed brow. And murmured the word that had haunted her every thought for the past two months. 'Gideon.'

'Are you… all right?'

'I'm… I don't quite know how to describe it.' She traced her fingers over the stark panes of his face, marveling even more at the fact that she could touch him so freely than at the extraordinary way he'd made her feel. 'Utterly limp, but in the most delightful way.'