erection—it’s simply nature taking its course.”
She froze, his matter-of-fact language shocking her. He was lying with that part of his body, his cock, pressed against her, and she could feel a strange, heated response. Heat, and dampness, and it shocked her. Simply nature taking its course, he said. It had nothing to do with her.
“I can do this by force, or you can behave yourself,” he continued. “Either way, it’s going to happen.” And for a moment she thought he meant sex. Sexual congress between them, his cock pushing inside her. And then she realized he was talking about her stocking.
His hand had slid up, under her skirt. Her garters were beautiful ones, made of pale green ribbon with pastel-colored rosettes, and she felt his hand untie one, his long fingers way too close to parts that needed to be ignored. And then he moved his hand beneath the silk stocking, pulling it down her leg, the removal of it almost a caress, and she held her breath, closing her eyes in the darkness as his hand brushed against her skin.
What was she doing? Was she totally shameless, enjoying the touch of this man, this scion of degenerates, as he stroked her leg, all the way down to her ankle, cradling her foot as he slipped the stocking off?
He was so close. So hot, so hard, and she could feel the beat of his heart against her. Her breasts felt strange, tight, tingling, and she wondered what would happen if she arched against him, as her body was telling her to do, if she raised her hips up and pushed against that hard part of him. What would he do?
He released her wrists, but she didn’t hit him. An odd stillness had crept over her limbs, and it seemed to be affecting him, as well. She could see the glitter of his eyes in the darkness, but she couldn’t see his expression.
“Lady Carstairs,” he said in a soft voice after a long moment, “I’m beginning to believe you might be a very dangerous woman.”
She swallowed, uncertain what to say. She wondered what would happen if she slid her arms around his shoulders. If she pulled him down to kiss her. What would he do?
He rolled off her, standing up in one fluid movement, and for a moment she lay still, trying to sort out her feelings. He’d put her slipper back on her one bare foot, and a moment later he’d pulled her to her feet, holding her arms for a moment until she steadied.
“Remember. Languid. Dazed.” His voice was low in her ear as a sliver of light entered the room.
“I shouldn’t have any trouble with that,” she muttered.
13
It was a good thing he needed very little sleep, Benedick Rohan thought the next morning, or he would be in very deep trouble. The previous night had been hellacious. First, he’d had to trot Sweet Charity out among the Elsmeres’ guests like a shy mare successfully covered by a prize stallion, her silk stocking draped across the door handle leading to their little rendezvous. The garter he’d pocketed himself, though he had no idea why. He also had no intention of looking into the matter too closely. He had her pretty little garter with him, and he’d be damned if he’d give it back.
They’d left as soon as they could, giving a reasonable simulation of a couple who couldn’t wait to get back in bed. At least, he did. She’d been unnaturally quiet, simply letting him lead her around. She’d been silent in the carriage as well, and he hoped she’d forgotten about her plans to join him on his ride to Kersley Hall, but as he’d accompanied her to her door, his hand hovering near her elbow, ready to touch her if he had half an excuse, she’d turned and said, “And what time shall we meet, Lord Rohan?” in a creditable approximation of her normal voice.
He hadn’t been able to sleep. All he’d done was kiss her, most thoroughly and most enjoyably, but in the end it was simply a kiss. True, he’d lain on top of her, feeling the softness of her curves, the tenderness of her breasts, the sweetness of her parted thighs. He’d felt the smooth skin of her leg, the crook of her knee, and it would have been so easy to pull that knee up, around his hips. She was no virgin, after all.
But he hadn’t. And she was still as rattled as