The Courtesan's Secret by Claudia Dain

Author:Claudia Dain [Dain, Claudia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2008-11-22T23:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

BLAKES was quite a superb kisser. Not that Louisa had anyone to compare him to, but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

She wasn’t, however, at all certain anymore that she knew what she was doing.

Whatever reason she had had for kissing him in the first place, if she had even taken the time to think of a reason, was lost now in the pure sensation of kissing him and of being kissed by him.

He was very, very good at it.

One would think that he’d be more insistent upon displaying his talent, but, oddly, Blakes kept pulling away from her, lifting his head, pushing her hands away from his monstrously thick waistcoat, to say the most extraordinarily meaningless things.

“If we’re found, you shall be ruined,” he said, and not for the first time.

He was holding her hands clasped within his fists, rather like warm shackles. It wasn’t at all annoying, though she did like it better when she could touch him, her hands very modestly on his shoulders or around his neck. Well, fairly modestly, anyway.

“We shall be required to marry,” he said, just before he brushed a kiss over her cheek.

“I’ve told you and told you, Blakes,” she said, turning her mouth toward his, wanting to be done with this silly cheek-kissing business and on to the full effect of his mouth firmly pressed upon hers, “we shan’t be found. I shall not be ruined.”

“Yes, ’tis I who is being ruined,” he breathed against her skin, his mouth whispering down her face to her throat, pressing itself against the top of her shoulder. She was so delighted to have worn a gown that presented her shoulders so flagrantly. “I believe you, I think. You have ruined me, Louisa. What do you intend to do about it?”

She giggled softly against his skin, her mouth brushing against his ear, and he responded by pressing his body against hers lightly, teasing her with its weight. She wanted his weight against her, that was the odd bit; she wanted to feel him press her down, her hips to his. Most peculiar, but there it was.

When one succumbed to instinct, one was left where instinct led.

Not at all reassuring, that, but as to being ruined, Blakes would never allow it. He was a very stubborn sort, consider only that he wouldn’t let her touch him and would only allow their kisses to be of the briefest variety.

She happened to know that kisses could be quite lengthy affairs as she had once seen her father, the annoying Melverley, kiss one of his mistresses in the Theatre Royal for upwards of three minutes running. It had been most illuminating and, obviously, most disgusting.

“I intend to continue on, ruining you as best I may,” she said. “Now, kindly kiss me, Blakes, I need the practice.”

“Hardly that,” he said, pulling away from her completely, even to the releasing of her hands from his.

Stubborn and contrary. She should have said nothing and let him think of it on his own, because surely he would have.

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