Samantha Holt - Sinful Temptations (Cynfell Brothers Book 6) Page 8

  He held her for some time, listening to the gentle tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. Whoever had been walking down the corridor had been and gone. He hoped no one searched for him. They would likely think he had gone after Anna, but he didn’t much care now. Hopefully Anna wouldn’t either.

  She sobbed quietly against him. His collar grew damp from her tears. Her delicate body shuddered with each sob. All he could do was hold her tightly and smooth his hands up and down her back. Gradually her body softened and the tears slowed. Another few minutes and they were gone. She drew in a deep breath and eased back to look up at him.

  Powerless. Utterly powerless. He probably had been since the moment he first met her.

  Her lips begged him, her eyes pleaded with him. It did not matter how wrong it was to kiss an upset woman, he had no choice.

  Their lips met. He tasted salty tears. She gasped. He recognised her hunger there. She needed this as much as he did. Bringing his hands up to cup the back of her neck and her face, he sampled her slowly, carefully. This hunger was different. A need to savour and enjoy drove him. Her tongue swept against his, and he kissed her deeply.

  Bodies as close as could be, they kissed until the chime of the clock told them it was midnight. Harris paused, glanced at the clock and then at the woman in front of him. It was a new day, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

  She remained still in his arms. There were no words, no declarations of her never touching him again. Nothing had changed since the last ding of the clock. He took the chance and kissed her again. Anna softened into him once more and pushed her fingers into his hair. He groaned when she dragged her fingernails down the back of his neck, eliciting a tingle of anticipation to race down his spine.

  Her hands skimmed down his dinner jacket and slipped underneath it. She worked at the buttons of his waistcoat while he peppered kisses across her face and nipped at her neck. She tilted her head and gave him better access to the sweetly scented flesh there. Harris continued his kisses down to where her gown hung from her shoulders.

  “God, Anna, you are insanely beautiful.”

  She didn’t respond or simper, only continued to undo his waistcoat. She stepped back to push off his jacket and waistcoat, leaving him in his shirt. Coming close again, she kissed his neck and set to work on his necktie.

  It had been a long time since a woman had undressed him—after all it was usually he who was doing the undressing—but it gave him time to drink in the sight of her, so he let her do as she wished with him. The truth was, she could strip him down and tie him to a damn chair and leave him looking the biggest fool in London, and he’d let her.

  Anna’s fingers pressed to the revealed V of flesh at his collar. He dragged in a breath. Her cool fingers somehow singed him. He needed to feel them over the rest of his skin and wrapped around his agonising cock. And he needed to repay the favour, to feel the tender skin on the inside of her thighs without the barrier of drawers, to be able to cup her breasts freely, to taste them at his leisure. Really, he needed her in his bed. But this study room would have to do.

  He plucked at his cufflinks and helped her ease off his shirt. She spread her palms over his chest and down his stomach. The leg wound had left him weaker than before, but he’d been blessed with a fairly low maintenance body. Nevertheless, he hoped she liked what she saw.

  Her gaze met his. Her tongue darted out over the bottom of her lip. “I never thought of men as beautiful before.”

  He couldn’t help chuckle.

  “You are beautiful, Harris.”

  “Alas, my beauty is nothing compared to yours.”

  A hint of a blush radiated on her cheeks so that even in the moonlight, he could see it. He cupped her cheek. “For a woman of the world, you blush easily, Anna.”

  “In spite of everything, I am not really a woman of the world.” She stared at his stomach while tracing the lines in it, causing his muscles to flex involuntarily. “I’ve had very few lovers.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” he told her, bringing her close, “I’ll be gentle. I shall make this perfect for you, I swear.”

  She nodded and kissed him. The trust in her gaze had him fit to burst. Why a woman like Anna had had so few lovers, he had no idea, but if that meant he was to be one of those few, he would ensure she never forgot it.

  He coaxed her back toward the study table and lifted her onto it. If he wanted to, he could take her hard and fast. The fact that they were half-clothed in someone else’s study meant he probably should.

  Every time he’d pictured it with Anna, he had thought of it that way. They’d tear at each other’s clothes and go at it fast and furious. However, the deep, burning need driving him was no longer the same. Yes, he wanted to be inside her more than anything in the world but he wanted to bring her the comfort and care she needed. Anna lived a hard life and she deserved something soft and beautiful.

  Harris dropped down to his knees again and drew off her heels. He skimmed a finger up her thigh to trace the ribbon of her stockings. He pushed up her skirts and petticoats enough that he could see the pale line of flesh between her drawers and stockings.

  Unable to resist, he placed several kisses there. A noise rose in his throat—a sort of primal but quiet roar. Hell, she tasted so good, was so soft.

  “I could spend hours kissing your body,” he told her, meeting her gaze while he pulled the ribbon first from one stocking then the next.

  Rolling them down, he pulled them off her legs and stood. Though taking her stockings off was likely a terrible waste of time, he wanted to feel her bare legs against him.

  He pressed his hands under her rear and found the waistband of her drawers. He tugged them down and urged her to lift her bottom so he could remove them entirely. The movement thrust her whole body forward and lifted her cleavage in tempting invitation. Discarding her drawers on the floor, he took her face in his hands and moved in between her legs.

  He lowered his lips to her, savouring the petal soft touch of her mouth. Breathing in the delicate scent of her and skimming a hand down the side of her neck and back up, he nudged his other hand between her legs and watched her eyes flutter closed when his fingers met her sensitive flesh.

  Harris watched the pleasure play out on her face. She gripped his forearms and sighed. He worked her bud until she was rocking into his hand then he pressed two fingers inside her. A groan escaped him. God, he couldn’t wait to be inside her.

  She opened her eyes at the sound from him and released her grip. Whilst he continued to make her arch and tremble, she fumbled with his trousers to open them. His arousal peeked above his drawers, straining for her touch. And she gave it to him. The sweet bliss of her first touch to his manhood had him drawing in a breath through his teeth. The harsh hiss echoed through the quiet room.

  “Anna,” he groaned, his movements faltering.

  She answered him by grasping his shaft and easing it out of his undergarments. Her movements stilled when he pressed his palm against her sex, moving it in circles in time with his fingers as he plunged them in and out. She regained a little of her composure and wrapped her hand about his cock.

  “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

  She began to move her hand over his heated flesh. A tingling sensation hit the base of his spine and the relief mingled with delicious agony. More than ever before, he needed to be joined with her.

  Anna locked her gaze onto his and they pleasured each other until Anna’s thighs began to shake. She was close, so very close. Her body began tightening around him. He couldn’t take much more of her ministrations so he pressed her hand away and eased his fingers from her body.

  “I want to be inside you when you come.”

  She nodded frantically and drew him close. He kissed her with reverence and gripped her hips. They moaned simultaneously when he joined them. His mind went hazy for a moment, his body taken over by the pure, unadulterated pleasure. He couldn’t recall such a moment ever having such an i
mpact on him.

  Staring into her eyes, watching the moonlight flicker over her skin and feeling her body pulse around him, Harris began to move. He slid in and out of her with no need for haste. Every single moment had to be treasured. This had to be about her. He was never a selfish lover, but his pleasure had certainly become negligible. The only thing that mattered was Anna.

  “Harris,” she breathed. “Oh God.”

  He gave her an unsteady kiss, continuing to press into her body until he was buried so deep, he didn’t know where either of them began or ended. The sense that this was where he was always intended to be washed over him and no part of his mind seemed willing to fight that.

  So he surrendered to it. He thrust in and out of her, kissing her cheeks, her lips, her forehead. Her grip tightened on him while her body did the same. Cries escaped her and anyone listening in would know what they were doing.

  He didn’t care and nor did she by the looks of it. Anna closed her eyes and let him take her over the edge. She released a long moan and her body jerked, trembled, then relaxed.

  Harris bundled her close, tucking her against him while he continued to move inside her. She murmured his name several times against his skin and his heart gave a spasm.

  The edge came quickly now that she was spent. Quicker than he’d have liked, if truth be told, as he could have remained inside her forever. The fiery bliss burned through his body and likely scorched his soul. When he came, he pressed an unsteady kiss to her forehead and spilled onto her thigh.

  “Oh, Harris,” she said, smoothing her hands up and down his back in soothing motions.

  He held her for several moments, their breaths rasping in the empty room. Whilst he cleaned them both up, he met her gaze. He’d been half-expecting the shutters to have come down but she remained open. This soft and languid Anna had him captive and he couldn’t help ask with too much eagerness, “When shall I see you again?”

  Chapter Eight

  It was madness. She was mad, Anna told herself. She glanced eagerly out of the carriage to see she was still five streets away from Harris’ townhouse. Her heart pounded sickeningly in her chest, yet the excitement would not be dampened.

  By some miracle, she had managed to persuade herself not to invite Harris back to her hotel last night. She had done many things she didn’t wish to do in her life but that was harder than she’d thought possible. She had, however, assuaged him by agreeing to come to his house in the afternoon.

  After an unproductive meeting with the investigator, she needed this. As selfish as it was, she needed him.

  No man had ever made her feel like that. Perhaps it was because she’d been feeling so vulnerable that she let him close, but for the moment, she could not bring herself to worry about her motives. The dinner had been difficult, tolerating cold looks and quiet, snide remarks that were not meant to be heard but were really.

  But she could tolerate all of that.

  It was the loss of hope that had her so pained. She had finally spoken with Lady Marvelle about her adopted child. The woman, by all accounts, had been one of the more pleasant characters.

  It had transpired that her nanny had been excellent, but they’d been persuaded they needed someone with more experience for their child now he was growing up and she’d been a little bitter. That explained why the nanny had expressed concerns about them. As near as Anna could tell, Lady Marvelle was a good mother.

  And the mother to a child that was not adopted at the same time as her son. Lady Marvelle had been quite gracious in discussing the matter with her, and it seemed whilst it was not common knowledge, they had told their son of his adoption.

  Another lead was dead. She’d wasted her time in London chasing down a child that wasn’t hers. Anna leaned her head back against the cushions. What now?

  The investigator told her he’d continue to look into the adoption papers, but her son had been adopted so long ago now. It would be hard to find records of anything. She could not help feel she was paying the investigator to do little. After all, he could not access the upper echelons of society, whereas she could.

  It looked as though he was certainly adopted by nobility in a very secret deal, likely so he would never have his inheritance questioned. She tugged out the adoption record from her purse, now crumpled and stained. Some of the crumples were from the amount of times she had tugged it out to stare at it. She scanned the words over and over.

  The names had turned out to be fake. Would she ever find out what had happened to her son? Damn her family for making her give him up. Damn her for being weak enough to let them.

  Anna put away the paper. There was little she could do for the moment and a slight bubble of anticipation began in her stomach when she realised she was only a couple of streets away from Harris’ house. Maybe this whole endeavour was ridiculous. She didn’t need a man in her life nor did she want one.

  But all she could think about was the pleasure and feeling of connection they’d shared. Was it so terrible to want to understand what it could truly be like between a man and a woman? None of her encounters since that first time had been satisfactory.

  But with Harris it had been different. She’d felt treasured and beautiful. No longer a ruined woman.

  When the cabriolet pulled up, her mouth grew dry and her pulse quickened. Was she really going to do this? They both knew what it meant, her visiting him alone. The deep ache low in her belly told her yes. Like a gambling addict, she needed more, even knowing it could lead to disaster.

  She paid the driver and pulled the bell next to the glossy black door. Turning her attention to the ornate foot scrapers by the door, she tried to steady her breathing.

  The door opened, and she snapped her gaze up. Instead of a stern-faced butler as expected, there stood Harris. His handsomeness near took what little breath she had away.

  In only a shirt and black waistcoat, with his sleeves pushed up and his collar open, it was a miracle she did not melt into a puddle of desire on his doorstep. If he spent most of his time like that at home, she never wanted to leave his home again.

  A glint entered his eyes while he ran his gaze over her. She had dressed deliberately in an elegant day dress that was normally saved for special day events. At Stourbridge, she tended to favour more business-like attire, but she was pleased to see she could still have an effect on a gentleman.

  “You came.”

  The words made her wonder if he’d thought she would not. Was it possible Harris was as nervous as she was? Surely not?

  “I did.”

  He stepped back and motioned her in. The narrow hallway was decorated in an oriental style with impressive black and gold furnishings, the embellishments typical of Japanese reproductions with blossoms and birds upon them. The wallpaper echoed the patterns in pale colours, adding to the exotic effect.

  “You have a beautiful home.”

  “You haven’t seen all of it yet.”

  She handed him her purse in lieu of a waiting butler and began to undo her jacket and reveal the full effect of the gown. A deep red shade that she knew complimented her complexion, it fit tightly, revealing the full length of her figure. With no bustle and few petticoats, it hugged her hips and rear. Anna hoped he appreciated it. She couldn’t remember the last time she cared what a man thought of her, but she really did want Harris to desire her still.

  “You are beautiful, Anna.”

  In spite of herself, warmth touched her cheeks. She offered a meek smile. “Thank you.”

  He coughed. “Shall I...shall I show you the rest of the house?”

  Considering the man had likely entertained many women at this house before, he was being incredibly bashful. It was quite charming really, although she could not help feeling like she was about to die if she did not receive his kiss.

  “You could show me your bedroom,” she suggested, coyly.

  He flashed a grin. “I could indeed.” Taking her hand, he led her upstairs.

  The room proved to
be as tasteful and as decadent as the hallway. Teal wallpaper and plush gold bedding added an elegant look to the room. The heavy drapes on the bed beckoned to her, begging her to pull Harris onto it and make love to him until she forgot everything. But his unusual quietness made her hesitate.

  She moved to the middle of the room and eased off her shoes before pushing them to one side. The soft carpet cushioned her stockinged feet, and she clasped her hands together as she faced Harris.

  He pushed shut the door and eyed her while she waited, her heart thumping painfully. He gave her a crooked smile. “What do you think?”

  “It’s very nice.”

  “It could be nicer.”

  “How so?”

  His grin turned a little wicked and the hint of the Harris she knew made himself known. “You could be naked.”

  She laughed. “And that would make your bedroom nicer?”

  “Infinitely nicer.” He stalked toward her but paused a pace away. He ran a finger down her cheek and touched the curl hanging by her ear. “Though you have improved it vastly already.”

  Anna closed the gap, tilting her head to eye him. Was he being so hesitant because of her emotional tirade yesterday? She had to prove to him that she was fine, that she needed this. Needed him.

  Her one step forward was the permission he must have been waiting for. He wrapped his arms about her and brought her close.

  “You have no idea how hard it was to leave you yesterday,” he said, his voice harsh before he closed his mouth over hers.

  Anna lost herself to the sensations, to the firm hands upon her body and the way he kissed her.

  He held her close, making her aware of the strong body beneath that shirt. Anna splayed her palms to feel the heat of his skin while he kissed her into oblivion. By the time he broke the kiss and turned her to pluck the pins from her hair, her legs trembled and her heart raced. Not from nervousness, however.

  Harris divested her of the various clips in her hair and the locks tumbled about her shoulders. He pushed them aside to press a kiss to the side of her a neck. A shiver ran through her and need pooled between her thighs.