Page 98 of A Much Maligned Miss

She tipped her head and he tensed, suddenly suspecting she was about to mention Miss Pomfrey. He had tired of that game altogether. It was Caroline Halperston he wanted. To hell with Miss Pomfrey.

“I will allow it,” she said, robbing him of all breath.

39

Caroline bit her lip to keep from crying out. She was sat in Gervaise’s lap, her satin slip hitched up high around her hips, her back arched and her breasts heaving in an almost indecent display of wantonness. Her nipples stuck out so far, she was sure they were the only thing keeping the gown up!

“Gervaise,” she whimpered as his fingers worked unhurriedly between her legs, slipping and sliding in a tantalizing tease. His other hand rested at the small of her back. He did not touch her anywhere else, though his eyes roamed over the face, neck, and bosom, their expression so heated it felt almost like a caress in itself.

Caroline’s thighs slid restlessly against each other as he expertly toyed with her. One finger—his forefinger, she thought, or was it his thumb?—nudged the spot between her legs that made her quite breathless. “Oh!” she gasped, her head falling forward and her eyes fluttering shut. The pressure eased off at once, a lazy smile quirking his lips. He was doing it on purpose. He had to be! “Wretch,” she burst out and he gave a low wicked laugh.

“What’s wrong, precious one?” he murmured.

“When I agreed to this—this indignity, I did not realize you would turn it into a torment!” she panted.

“Didn’t you?” He tutted, his fingers spreading her wetness through her cleft with devastating efficiency. Caroline whimpered. “Now that was something of a miscalculation on your part, my sweet. But if you are feeling hard done by, we can always stop.” His hand halted and she had to bite back a protest.

“N-no,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean—that is—”

“Yes? You want me to continue?” he asked silkily.

“Yes!” she agreed desperately. “Only do hurry up! Reg will be back soon!”

“Hurry up?” His eyebrows shot up. “Ohhh, you thought I was going to let you come,” he said as if with dawning realization. The dissembler! “Afraid not,” he said regretfully.

Caroline’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I mean for you to sit through supper squirming and needy. It will build your appetite.”

“I won’t be able to eat a thing in such a state!” she objected without any thought for modesty.

His eyes gleamed. “I wasn’t speaking of your appetite for food, but your appetite for me,” he corrected her.

She gazed at him in consternation. “But that’s—”

“Yes? What?” he asked softly.

“Truly diabolical!”

He laughed, such an honest-to-goodness laugh, that it had Caroline staring. He had no right to look so handsome when his behavior was anything but! Impulsively, she caught his face between her hands, holding him in place as she memorized his every devastating feature at close hand.

He looked surprised by her sudden intensity, as well he might. She had no idea what she was doing, only that she must do it. “What are you—?”

She surged forward, sealing her lips to his in a forceful, demanding kiss, opening her mouth over his on a gasp, and slanting it to take his own in a rough slide of tongue, teeth, and lips that had him tensing against her.

Feeling his reaction, she tore her mouth from his, trying to turn away but his hand slid up her back and was in her hair forcing her face back to his. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking dare.”

They panted into each other’s mouths as they shared a kiss so uncivilized that Caroline was not sure it even qualified as one. This, she thought, was likely how maenads truly kissed. With a wildness that seemed almost savage.

Oh God, why was she rubbing herself against him like that? Like some shameless, abandoned creature! She shuddered. “Gervaise,” she huffed, trying to put some space between them, but his lips chased hers, refusing to give an inch.

“What?” His voice was rough, like his fingers tightening in her hair and at her thigh. “Want to stop?” He breathed out shakily and slackened his grip on hers, pressing their foreheads together. Caroline almost burst into tears!

“No, I—” She broke off, her thoughts wildly careering. “I want—” What could she say? She did not even possess the vocabulary! “I want—”

“Yes? What do you want?” he asked, his eyes narrowed to slits. She almost missed his own disarray, his disordered cravat and untidy hair. Had she done that to him? “Tell me,” he demanded harshly. “God knows, I’ll refuse you nothing.”

“I—I want to ride your face, ventre a terre,” she blurted out, and it was a good thing she was already red as a berry, for that meant she could not get any redder.