A Marquess for Christmas by Vivienne Westlake

Author:Vivienne Westlake [Westlake, Vivienne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Vivienne Westlake
Published: 2012-12-15T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Fever raged through Violet’s body. Kit’s hands, his mouth, his sex aroused her to the point where she knew nothing but the heavy sound of his breathing and her own lust, spiraling higher and higher with every touch.

She wanted him to take her, to ease the torment racking her body.

He would hold it back from her, tease her endlessly until she gave him everything. Her heart, her soul, her body.

Because the game was more than sex. She knew it, though he never said so. He thrived on control, just as she did. Sometimes that worried her, though she trusted him not to physically hurt her. Emotionally? That was another thing altogether.

It was too easy to wake up in the morning, knowing she would see him at breakfast, that she would spend her evening chatting with him about books or singing a ballad together even without a pianoforte or violin to accompany them.

When she went to sleep at night, his face was ever in her mind.

She’d already given him her mind, and her heart, and now her body was imminently to follow. She could not deny him that, not when she’d yearned to have him since the day they’d met.

As they lay chest to chest, their heated bodies writhing together as they kissed and stroked one another, Violet clung to him, knowing there would not be many nights like this.

“I want you naked,” he whispered. His brown eyes swirled with something dark, some element she could not name. Yet the need was there, too. The same need that sparked through her body and tore at her heart.

She loosened her legs and rolled over, so that he could see her back. She lay still, breathing hard, waiting for him to strip her of her clothes the way he’d stripped her of every resistance that she had.

The touch of his fingers on the hooks made her tremble. Her breath caught at the sound of the clasps coming undone. A soft kiss to her shoulder blade sent tingles down her back.

He pulled off the evening gown and untied her petticoat and set them on her chair. When Kit turned her toward him, she couldn’t keep from kissing him. The warmth of his lips, his tongue thawed the fear until it faded to the edges of her mind.

Her bodice felt tight and constricting, but his fingers darted through and around the laces of her stays until the fabric parted. Only her chemise remained. Sometimes she wore those clever drawers, particularly on cool winter days, but lately she’d taken to going without them. Was it because she always knew it would come to this? Ever since that day he’d awoken from fever and it was clear that he was as drawn to her as she to him?

Did she believe in fate? Was her every reaction inevitable? Was there anything she could do or would the story end the same no matter what she tried?

If it meant that she could have him now, that she could be his for as long as tonight would last, then she was willing to take the risk.

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