My Favorite Marquess. Alexandra BassettЧитать онлайн книгу.
a mere mister!”
“Oh, I know you mean it sarcastically, but to me, at that time he was a hero! And he was the heir to his uncle, a marquess.” Violet took another sip of brandy and looked a bit tearful. “I met him at the first dance at Almack’s that second Season. He was the perfect suitor from that moment until he asked for my hand during the waltz at the closing dance where we had first met. I thought it was terribly romantic.”
“And did life with Percy live up to this romantic view?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, Percy didn’t believe in romance. He said it was shabby-genteel. He was quite concerned that I dismiss such notions in order that I might overcome my rather unfortunate family connections. He told me on our honeymoon that he had suffered doubts about offering for me but that my cool demeanor and ladylike behavior convinced him I would one day make a tolerable marchioness.”
“He sounds like a first rate jackass to me!” Sebastian growled.
“Yes, I am beginning to think you are right,” Violet agreed absently. Then she shook her head, “That is…how dare you.”
“It seems to me that you have spent your life socializing with a bunch of stuffed shirts. I can’t believe this husband you married wasn’t interested in love and passion with you.”
She bit her lip in a thoughtful pout. “But don’t you see? It’s me. I don’t seem to be a passion-invoking person. Back at school, it was constantly being drummed into our heads that we had to watch out with men, that they were always on the lookout for an opportunity to take advantage. But no man has ever tried anything the least improper with me. “Violet hiccupped and continued, with a hysterical note to her voice, “I probably couldn’t get a man to offer me a slip on the shoulder if my life depended on it!”
He shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, I’m sure all sorts of men have lustful thoughts about you.” Sebastian patted her shoulder and joked, “How could they not, with your neat ankles?”
Her lips parted, and color rose in her cheeks. “Do you really think so?”
“You can depend on it, Highness.”
She smiled almost coquettishly at him and slurred, “You don’ shound like a Brute, do you know that?” She hiccupped softly.
“You don’t sound much like a lady at the moment, either.”
She laughed and continued to stare up at him with eyes large and luminous in the glow of the single candle. Then she leaned over to him and whispered, “Kiss me, Brute.”
Maybe he was tipsy himself. Or maybe boredom got the best of him. (What else was there to do in this blasted cave?) Or maybe he was just one of those opportunistic men Mrs. Pargeter had tried to warn Violet about. Whatever the reason, he didn’t spend much time resisting her request.
No time at all, as a matter of fact. He bent down and pressed his lips against hers, fully expecting that their embrace would go no further.
But the soft warmth of those lips was very alluring, as was the taste of liquor and hint of perfume that swirled about her. Even after all she had been through today, her hair still smelled of some sweet scent, like roses. It seemed to go straight to his senses.
He wrapped his arms around her, and her mouth opened to his. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, she was so responsive…
She put her hands in his hair and lightly kneaded him. He never knew that the whisper-soft touch of fingertips could affect him so. He couldn’t resist running his hand up and down the satiny skin of her arm. She moved her hands languorously from his hair to his shoulders.
He tore his lips away from her mouth and then trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder. When he reached her breast, her hands suddenly stopped their kneading motion and she clutched his shoulders and moaned.
Without thought, Sebastian laved one breast through her chemise while palming the other with his free hand. Her breasts felt perfectly shaped and he marveled at their youthful firmness. Her nipples hardened at his first touch. And she had thought she was lacking in passion!
In fact, she was so not lacking in passion that he feared if he did not stop them now it would lead to madness. Though he enjoyed playing the blackguard Robert the Brute, he was certainly not one in actuality. Quite the opposite! No one would ever accuse Sebastian Cavenaugh of being a rogue.
He whispered in her ear, “You see, it is not at all difficult for a man to wish to take advantage of you, sweet Violet.”
Her lips formed a kittenish smile. She seemed wholly unwilling to end her first foray into passion, and his position left her room to place her hands on his chest and conduct her own investigations of his person. As her fingers firmly explored his chest muscles, he felt a fierce swell of desire.
Violet felt it, too. She rubbed herself against his obvious arousal in a most enticing manner. Then, shocking him with her boldness, she leaned over and took one of his nipples in her mouth and sucked hard. An intense burning sensation shot straight to his groin.
All rational thought fled him. His only aim now was to satisfy their mutual desire for each other. He turned her onto her back and pinned her lower half with his own body. Now to make a more thorough inspection of those charming breasts, he thought to himself and pulled her chemise down to her waist. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a perfectly formed woman—the pale skin that covered her chest was flawless. As he ran his palms across the warm flesh, he marveled at the satiny softness. He leaned down and kissed one orb, then he flicked his tongue over its surface. Violet was straining her upper body toward his mouth. She had fisted her hands in his hair and was pulling his head more firmly against her breast. Finally he gave in to her demand and opened his mouth over a tightly puckered nipple and pulled strongly.
While sucking her breast, he smoothed a hand over her abdomen and down toward the apex of her thighs. As his hand neared her warm center, Violet began rocking rhythmically against him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on without exploding, but he continued to stroke her in time to her enticing movements.
Within a few minutes, she was straining against him and making low crooning noises. He knew that she was very near now, and he nipped one of her earlobes and whispered, “That’s it, Highness…”
Violet suddenly arched against him and gave a shouting moan that reverberated in the tiny chamber. Her delicate figure convulsed for a few moments before she lay completely relaxed in his arms.
He was grateful that he had been able to stave off his own desires until she had reached satisfaction—it had been a close thing. The need for release was nearly driving him mad. He adjusted his breeches, pushed her legs apart and positioned himself over her.
Violet was making deep, breathy noises, and he leaned down to kiss her one last time before joining them together. He lowered his lips to hers.
In response, Violet put her hand to his face and shoved it away.
He pulled back from her in astonishment. She took the opportunity to flip over onto her side beneath him. A loud, satisfied snore echoed through the cave.
Astounded, Sebastian rolled away from her. He couldn’t believe it—his ardor had put her to sleep!
Or more likely, the brandy had put her into a drunken stupor.
Although this might not surprise anyone back at his London club, where he was rated to be a rather cold sort, it would not do Robert the Brute’s dashing reputation with the ladies any good!
He took a last longing look at her slumbering form, then regretfully covered her with the blanket.
As Violet’s snoring continued (though more softly now, he noted with relief), Sebastian arose and went to the corner to refill his flask. He couldn’t help laughing, despite himself. He had vowed to provide Mrs. Treacher with plenty of trouble when she came to Cornwall, but it seemed that she was reciprocating more than in kind.
Chapter Three