One Bite Per Night by Brooklyn Ann

Author:Brooklyn Ann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2014-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Vincent paced the Burnrath’s library like a caged lion. The sight of Lydia’s curves in those trousers, so boldly displayed when she’d removed her coat, had driven him to the brink of madness. He thanked the fates the duchess would be able to put her in a proper gown. The scent of gardenias heralded her approach. In a futile attempt to collect himself, he turned to face the fireplace. The dancing flames seemed to echo his raging desire…and blood thirst.

Damn it. He should have fed while she was bathing.

“I am here, my lord.” Her voice was like rough velvet. “I hope my attire is pleasing.”

“As long as you are out of those trousers, I do not care what—” He turned around, and the breath left his body.

Lydia had transformed into a dark temptress. Her hair tumbled in a midnight cascade past her shoulders, framing her exquisite face and tempting figure. Angelica had indeed dressed Lydia as a woman. Her selection surely was meant to torment him.

And it succeeded. Made of crimson taffeta beaded with jet, the gown accentuated Lydia’s lush body. The low, square-cut bodice exposed her breasts nearly to her nipples, serving up opulent flesh like a forbidden banquet. The shimmering fabric encased her trim waist and hugged her rounded hips tighter than the trousers had. Also, the gown was too short, revealing shapely ankles encased in sinfully decadent silk stockings. Apparently, the duchess had been unable to provide shoes, for Lydia’s delicate toes teased him from beneath the thin material.

“Dear God,” he breathed.

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them with seductive, graceful steps. The scent of her arousal was an intoxicating drug, taunting him to lay claim to what should be his. She moved until their bodies touched and she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

“Do I look like a woman, my lord?” Her southern American drawl dripped over his senses like warm honey, filling his loins with hot desire.

Vincent wanted to pull her into his arms, grasp that tight bottom and bring her hips closer to his. Instead, he forced himself to grasp her upper arms, unable to push her away.

“Lydia,” he ground out against clenched teeth, his body aching with the effort in holding back from ravaging her. “You do not know what you are doing.”

“Yes,” she whispered and reached up, her fingers gentle torture against his chest as she began to unbutton his shirt. “I do.”

***

Vincent’s chest hypnotized Lydia with every inch that was revealed. Then his hands seized hers, stopping her efforts to undress him.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was hoarse with desire. She recognized that now, for she heard the same need in her own.

Her reply echoed the same roughness. “I want you, Vincent.”

“Lydia…” The word came out a tortured groan.

She could sympathize, for the hot pulsing between her thighs was sweet agony. Before he could refuse her, she took a deep breath and forced herself to confess it again, to lay bare her passion for him.

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