Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,30
her.
Apparently satisfied that she would put up no fight, he slid a finger under, over, and around her bare breast before teasing the nub peaking at the center with his thumb.
Her feet swayed and breath hitched, and William smiled.
Her eyes drifted shut, there was not a thought in her head now.
He stepped closer, his other hand sliding across the smooth skin hidden beneath her robe. For a moment he was so focused on the sensation of her against his fingertips that her rambling words did not reach his ears.
When they did he covered her mouth with his, because she was not speaking at all, but was moaning under his touch.
***
Marianne did not know what was happening to her but she liked it and did not wish it to stop. The swelling between her legs returned and the pulsing became the throbbing heartbeat that kept her breathing, kept her alive.
All she wanted was for him to continue inflicting this wonderful torture on her. When she felt this good she could not find blame to place on him for wishing her to his bed if he would feel only a fraction of what he was causing her to feel.
Blindly she threw her arms around his neck and welcomed his tongue into her mouth when he kissed her.
It felt different from the last time his tongue visited her in that church, and not in the unpleasant surprise way it had been before either. ‘Twas soft and warm and wet, and she found herself enjoying having it touch her own tongue and moving against hers.
When he pulled his mouth away she was coherent enough to open her eyes and feel the hand that had once been teasing, now gripping the whole of her breast.
“Is this what you meant when you wanted to apologize for not seeing to your promise?” She asked, a hint of a smile at her lips.
“Not quite, but it will do for me if it will for you.” He pressed himself closer to her, and she felt the hardness at his thigh.
Like the crack of a whip her body, which was once so full of wanting and lust she thought she would overflow, suddenly became tense with fear.
She could not do this.
William saw the look on her face and he too was pulled from the lusty fantasy. “You do not approve?”
She tried to back away but could not, and he refused to move and give her any space.
Marianne clutched his shoulders. She could not look him in the eye. He was her husband and she his wife. ‘Twas nothing wrong with what he wished to do to her, what she had nearly wanted him to do to her, yet she could not bring herself to allow it. “You do not love me,”
He professed to love not her but her brash spirit and reckless behavior. The very thing her father had been trying to stamp out of her for as long as she could remember. ‘Twas not good enough.
William opened his mouth to reply, then shut it just as quickly. He said nothing.
Marianne pushed away from him, righting her robe as she moved as far away from him as possible before she grabbed the comb and returned to furiously combing out her knotted wet hair.
His words, especially the words not said, were like a blow. She could not bring herself to look at him. And even while she sat on the other side of the room, pretending to focus solely on her hair, he still would not speak, and somehow the silence was worse than if he had decided to rage around the room for her teasing treatment of him.
She enjoyed his touch, and she enjoyed his voice when he took the time to speak to her, but if he did not love her then what would their act of loving each other really be but emotionless fornication?
She was lonely, but not that lonely.
She tensed when his hands found her shoulders, she had not realized that he was nearing her. Unlike their first night under the same roof, she did not scream and leap away when he kissed her neck. The act was so tender she could almost trick herself into believing that he did hold feelings for her.
“We will share a bed, but tonight will be the last night that I do not make you mine. Tomorrow we shall eat our breakfast together, and after I see to my own responsibilities we can talk privately if you wish.”
She swallowed. One day