The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,81

enjoy having her attention. It was unusual for her to stand and do nothing, while he did the work. Her previous lovers had chosen her for her beauty and the pleasure she could bring them; her desire hadn’t entered into the equation. But hungering while a virile man removed his clothing piece by piece was no hardship for her, it would seem…none at all.

He slipped the knot holding his shirtsleeves at his neck and pulled the garment over his broad shoulders. Bare-chested, in only his form-fitting breeches and boots, with his carefully mussed hair now thoroughly disheveled, he held his arms extended at his sides, palms up. “I want you to see me, Elizabeth.”

“I see you.” What did he mean?

He closed the distance between them. Shirtless, he seemed larger. Her heart raced at the intensity of his expression. “Tonight is between us, Elizabeth. When I fit myself into you”—she gasped at her answering desire—“I want you to say my name. Constantine. I want you to be just as desperate for me as I am for you. You must see me at your peak.”

Her mind filled with erotic images. Wetness surged between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together, fairly ready to sink her fingernails into his shoulders and beg him to take her right then.

But he was adamant that she understand him first. “Me, Elizabeth. Constantine. Not anyone else. Do you see me?”

She nodded. Then nodded again, more firmly still, when he still seemed unsatisfied.

“Thank goodness.” He grasped her upper arms and lifted her off her feet, then deposited her atop the coverlet. His knees straddled her thighs and his arms braced his torso over her heaving breasts.

She had but a moment to thrill at the sight of him finally poised to claim her before his lips swooped over hers. He devoured her with kisses, urging her with his lips and tongue and the gentle thrust of his hips against her belly to join him, and feel the same intensity that he did.

She did. Oh, heavens, she did. With every thrust of his hips, she wished them perfectly naked. If he took her at this very moment, she would be eternally grateful. But he was going to torture her. Draw it out long and slow so that she truly would be crying for release when at last he gave it to her.

She couldn’t be the only one of them who suffered so. She slid her hands around his back, pressing her fingers into the firm muscles bunched against his spine. Then she drew her nails just firmly enough down his back to leave red marks in his skin. He groaned into her mouth. His rough thrusts quickened. Good. She could never withstand an hour of this sweet assault. She wanted him filling her now.

His tongue stroked hers. One hand slid up to cup her breast through her bodice. The soft moans of pleasure—those were hers. The musky scent of need was all him.

Answering arousal thrummed between her legs. She struggled to part them but his weight trapped her skirts. She did her best to bring her pelvis against the hard ridge of his manhood anyway, determined to entice him with the promise of her soft, warm flesh splayed against him, but his eyes opened as his lips left hers.

Such a sharp blue. It pierced deep inside her, as if he wanted to see her very thoughts. “Cease trying to make me come.”

Her eyes widened. Half in feigned innocence and half in guilt. “I’m not.”

“Oh, woman. You are very, very wrong about that.” His lips curved up wickedly and he rubbed his length against her for good measure.

An unfair assault. Her breaths turned to gasping pants. “I can’t bear for you to take your time. I want you, Constantine. I’ve already waited so long.”

His jaw hardened. Beads of perspiration and the scent of his sex had begun to release, but a sudden heat flowed through him. He gripped her breast roughly, then seemed to realize it and looked down. When his gaze returned to hers, she saw a new emotion. A stirring, demanding possessiveness that frightened her.

She arched her hips to meet his.

He rose to his knees and reached for his cravat balled on the bed. “Stop. Trying. To. Make. Me. Come.” Then he inched forward and knelt beside her right shoulder, sitting back on his heels. The boyish position only made her ache for him more. Why was this man so comfortable around her? No one else had ever