Ascension. A.S. FenichelЧитать онлайн книгу.
her opening.
Pressure built low in her abdomen, hips and between her legs where he touched her. Pleasure swamped her and she clutched the sheets. She tried to relax as he’d commanded, but still her muscles tightened.
His fingers opened her and then something wet was inside her.
She was about to scold him for breaking his promise, but he had not penetrated her as she had seen the demons doing in their lairs. His dark head rested between her legs. His tongue was inside her lapping her juices. She tried to say no, but the pleasure grew to the point that her complaint died on her lips.
Needing more, she threw back her head and arched closer to the source of pure delight.
He nibbled at her gently with his teeth and ran his tongue up and down her slit.
The tightness in her stomach and hips built higher and higher. She trembled with need.
Gabriel continued, relentlessly nipping, sucking and licking her until she reached the crest and tumbled over into ecstasy. Waves of rapture tumbled her higher than she had ever dreamt of or imagined.
He pushed hard against her bud, and she lifted her hips crushing her center to his face. With one last lick, he sat up beaming down at her. His eyes shone with passion.
“Are you all right, Bella?”
She lifted up onto her elbows. “That was…I do not know what that was.”
He touched her cheek. “That was an orgasm, my love. Something I hope to share with you many, many times.”
She had lost control, and the pleasure still buzzed inside her. If she lost her grasp so completely, would he? Her cheeks warmed. “Does this happen to you also?”
His smile was contagious. “Under the right circumstances it does.”
“I see.” Feeling shy, she pulled the sheet and covered herself.
His smile faded. “You’re going to send me away.”
“I think it would be best.” Even as she said the words, she wished things were different and she could let him take her as a husband takes his wife. She wanted to feel him inside her, but his proximity to her only put him in danger, and if she hoped to protect him, she had to send him away.
“I see,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” The feeble apology was not sufficient.
He smiled. “Oh, Bella.” He touched her cheek and kissed the top of her head as he rose from the bed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted to give you pleasure, and if your cries were any indication, then I have done that well. I would wait another four years to hear you come that way again. But I hope I shall not have to.”
He moved toward the window where he had entered.
She stood and wrapped herself in the sheet. “Gabriel, go out the front door. It is far less dangerous, and as you noted earlier, no one is about the house to see you.”
When he turned toward her, it took every ounce of her strength to resist asking him to stay.
He unlocked her door and walked into the dark corridor.
Chapter 2
Belinda’s face in total rapture had been perfection. If only he could separate that spectacular part of the evening from his memory of her sneaking into the house through the garden, covered in filth and bruised as if she’d been struck across the face. What was she up to?
He’d ignored the mountain of paperwork on the desk in his study for far too long. His secretary had handled the business while he was fighting in France, but some things had been put on hold and now he tackled the arduous task of putting things back in order.
Unfortunately his fiancée’s less than warm welcome home a few weeks earlier had caused him to spend a great deal of his time speculating about what had happened while he was away. He had discreetly asked around town and no one had noticed anything strange or different about her. Lady Belinda still attended balls and occasionally she and her mother attended the theatre. There was no gossip about her taking up with a man, and he did not wish to create a scandal by asking too many questions.
It wouldn’t look good if Lady Belinda’s fiancé, just back from war, appeared nervous about the lady’s virtue. He was sure she would never forgive him if he ruined her reputation with his zealous curiosity. It was the last thing he wanted to do. All he wanted was the sweet girl he’d left behind four years earlier, but thus far, she did not exist.
After the intimacies of the night before, he was convinced she remained a virgin but was no longer innocent of heart. Something had changed in her eyes as well as in her manner. They were no longer the clear, loving eyes that had looked up at him with purity. He’d seen the change happen to boys when the horrors of war turned them into men but he couldn’t explain the change in a lady of Belinda’s rank. She had all the conveniences a woman in her position could hope for. What could have initiated the change, and where had she been before their meeting in the garden?
I suppose I am changed as well. He sighed.
Left by his butler and ignored for more than an hour, the silver dish at the edge of his desk held several pieces of correspondence and invitations to upcoming balls and events. He had to attend some of them if only to keep an eye on Belinda, but there was also his sister to consider. Selina had come out only a few weeks before and she and his mother were rapturous about getting the girl married off in her first season. He’d been surprised at how his baby sister had grown during his absence, but he didn’t understand the rush to marry her off. Honestly, he’d prefer to keep her home for a while and have a chance to get to know her better. He did not mention this to the women in the household, as they would think him daft.
Procrastinating further on the papers on his desk, he opened the invitations on the plate. Most he tossed aside, but then he opened an invitation to attend the ball of the Marques de Pompedo. The Marques’s daughter was a close friend to Belinda’s and it was certain his fiancée wouldn’t miss her friend’s ball.
His heart pounded faster at the idea of seeing Belinda’s face when he appeared in the ballroom. He left his paperwork behind. The clock in the foyer indicated the hour was already late and he would have to dress quickly if he was to see her. He took the stairs to his rooms two at a time while hollering for his valet.
* * * *
He scanned the throng and spotted her golden hair from across the ballroom. Even with all the distraction of glittering candles, frescos and overdressed peerage, his eyes locked immediately to Belinda. Her bright green eyes became large saucers when she saw him approach. Good, he wanted her off balance.
He wanted to look at her and feel nothing more than a legal attachment, but it was impossible. He couldn’t deny his feelings. Lady Belinda Clayton stimulated him in ways no other woman ever could. He was in love with her and had been since they had romped around as children together. She was smart, funny and exquisite in every way. Her pale yellow gown dipped low enough so that he enjoyed a discreet view of the swell of her breasts. He had seen them in the dim lighting of her chambers but he would never get his fill of her flesh.
The curvaceous girl he left behind when he went to war was now a slender woman. Her taut, muscular body had surprised him, but also aroused him more than he would have expected. It had never occurred to him that a fit woman could be desirous. Actually, he’d only seen farm women with muscles, never a lady. More and more questions flooded his mind. Mostly, he yearned to touch her again.
Her look of surprise he’d coveted changed quickly to mild disinterest as he crossed the ballroom. She recovered enough to give him a cold little curtsy before turning back to her friend for conversation.
Pretending Belinda’s act didn’t bother him, he addressed her friend. “Lady Lorelei, you are looking lovely this evening. I hope you will forgive me if I steal my fiancée away for a dance.”
The Marquis de Pompedo’s