Tempting the Footman (House of Devon #5) - Lauren Smith Page 0,32

as his fingers explored the mass of her petticoats until he found the bare skin of her thigh above her stockings. He played with the ribbon of that stocking, and Venetia trembled with a wild, desperate hunger she had never felt before. She clutched at Adrian’s shoulders, digging her nails into him to keep him close as he moved his hand through the frothy layers of her undergarments. Then he was touching her in that secret, sensitive place between her thighs. Adrian brushed his fingers through the thatch of curls over her mound and pressed one finger into her sex. She squeaked in surprise, unable to help herself.

“There it is again!” the man in the drawing room muttered. “Bloody mice in the walls. Wait until Lord Devon hears.” The man’s mutterings softened as he ambled away from the room, but Venetia was barely aware of him. All she could do was feel Adrian exploring her body. His other hand was still over her mouth to keep her quiet as he introduced her to a pleasure so exquisite that she nearly wept from the sudden rush of a climax that swept her away like a high tide.

Her legs buckled, and she would have collapsed if Adrian hadn’t moved his hand from her mouth to hold her up. His fingers still thrust slowly in and out of her, drawing out the last little shocks of wonderment. Only then did he gently pull his hand out from under her skirts. In the dim light, she saw him slide his fingers between his lips and lick her essence clean.

She stared at him, her body quivering at his sensual wickedness.

She’d had no idea that a man could do anything like what Adrian had just done.

“You really are as wicked as Lord Byron,” was all she could whisper.

He laughed, a deep, husky sound that held a delightful wickedness to it.

“I suppose I am, but I won’t apologize. You are too tempting, my lady.”

“I wouldn’t dare ask you to, not when it was so wonderful.” She moved sideways so she could better see his eyes.

He cupped her face and gazed down at her with soft, sweet eyes. “Was that your first release?”

“Heavens, it was a release, wasn’t it? I thought for a moment I might die from it.” She leaned into him as he curled his arms around her, embracing her.

“Thank you for giving me that gift,” he whispered against her hair. There was such a reverence in his words that for a moment she felt like a goddess of old, bestowing gifts upon a mortal worshiper.

“You must be tired,” he said after a few minutes. “Let me take you back to your room so you may rest your ankle.”

Venetia wanted to protest, wanted to say she was his, but she was in fact quite tired.

“Will you come to my chamber tonight after everyone is asleep?” She needed him to be with her more than anything else.

“You wish me to?”

“Please. If you want to, that is. I don’t wish to ask anything of you that you would not give freely, or if it might get you into trouble.”

He was quiet a long moment and then nodded. “My wish is your wish. I will come to you tonight. I gladly accept the risks.”

8

Adrian was a damned scoundrel, he knew that, but he could not regret what he had done. He had only intended to give Lady Venetia a means of escape, but after that brief kiss in the library, his body had overtaken his rational thoughts.

Once he had her close to him in the dark, he could pretend he was someone worthy of her, someone who could seduce her and bring her to pleasure like any good lover would. She had come apart so beautifully, and to learn that it was her first time to feel that release? He was surely damned for enjoying that as much as he did.

After he left her, he returned to the library to retrieve their dinner tray. There was no sign of Monty or his lover. Adrian brought the dishes to the kitchen, and Mrs. Webster handed him a cup of tea and a few biscuits as he sat down at the servants’ table. Phillip was there, sewing a button onto a waistcoat for Lord William.

“How goes the lady watching?”

“Well enough. She is easy to please.”

“Is she?” Phillip asked in a polite tone, but his eyes suggested something more mischievous in the question, given that Adrian’s own words had foolishly opened the