Knight's Mistress
Page 15
‘Wait.’ A small frantic explosion of sound.
He turned back, his brows faintly raised.
‘I know I shouldn’t ask,’ she said in a breathy rush. ‘You probably have women hitting on you all the time, but I’d kick myself later if I left without kissing—’
He moved in a blur, inhaled the word you as his mouth captured hers, felt a sudden, unnatural exhilaration, an impatience he hadn’t felt in years. He heard her small whimper as his tongue skimmed hers, her eagerness exciting him. He shoved her coat down her arms with a sweep of his hands, had her bottom in his grip before her coat hit the floor, and hauling her hard against his body, kissed her with a barely suppressed hunger.
She kissed him back with a rough urgency that surprised him.
It wasn’t a semi-virgin’s kiss.
But then Miss Hart had a no-holds-barred personality he was guessing might go with no-holds-barred sex. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, moving one hand upward to rest in the small of her back. ‘I was trying to behave.’
‘Don’t.’
Her voice was a shimmering hum on his lips; he could even taste her smile. ‘Then we both thank you,’ he murmured, his erection surging higher at such welcome news. ‘Can you feel that?’ He moved his hips in a leisurely back and forth motion, offering graphic evidence of his capacity to please.
‘Clear down to my toes,’ she said with a small heated sigh, his massive erection thick and stiff against her belly. ‘And everywhere in between,’ she purred, curling her arms around his neck, melting against him, every muscle below her waist quivering wildly in anticipation.
‘Now I felt that,’ he whispered.
‘You couldn’t!’
‘I did. Like this.’ Repeating his perfectly targeted slow and easy rhythm, he forced her closer, his fingers splayed on her lower back. Then he flexed his hips.
The fierce jolt of pleasure spiked through her body like an electric charge, her senses taut and needy after hours of waiting for him, for this, for satisfaction. Breathless, panting, she rubbed up against him, asking for more.
He glanced up, took note of Mrs Van Kessel’s absence. Not that he expected to see her standing there. He paid for her discretion. But they needed a bed. Miss Hart was on a short fuse.
‘I need to come. Right now!’
Her hot, throaty demand interrupted his internal debate. It also gave him pause; he didn’t take orders. On the other hand, he’d flown a helluva long way to do just that. He smiled. ‘Your place or mine?’
Perhaps it was the phrase ‘your place or mine’ that brought her treacherous little inner voice to life. Or the smooth assurance in his tone. Or the fact that he knew he could have any woman he wanted. Don’t be stupid. This means nothing to him. And in a terrifying flash of sanity she saw herself as he saw her: another casual conquest, another woman to be forgotten, a woman who paid him back in the usual way for gifts received.
‘Stop! Stop!’ Shoving hard against his chest, she broke his grip and lurched backward. ‘I can’t,’ she gasped. ‘I’m sorry.’ Maybe she was too proud – or foolish … she didn’t know which, but suddenly she didn’t want to be another of Dominic Knight’s faceless fucks.
Dragging air into his lungs, desperately trying to restrain himself, Dominic stared at her in stunned disbelief. Female resistance didn’t exist in his world. A strained moment passed, followed by another, the air crackling with his frustration and outrage. Then his rancour gave way to common sense and after a moment more, he slowly exhaled. Miss Hart was the least likely woman to be playing games. He should have known better. She was a novice and the fact that she did what she did was indication of what fucking a novice entailed. A lot of work and no pay-off. Lesson learned. ‘It’s probably just as well,’ he said mildly, his face expressionless. Bending smoothly, he scooped up her coat from the floor and moved forward to wrap it around her shoulders.
Less capable of impassivity, her body hopelessly immune to logic, Kate’s breathing turned ragged as he leaned in close.
Dominic was finely attuned to female arousal. Considering his vices, it was a valuable asset. He could have changed Miss Hart’s mind.
‘Good night, Miss Hart,’ he said instead. ‘Pleasant dreams.’
But he stood there for a moment after she shut the door, a ghost of a smile on his face.
Christ, who knew? He had scruples.
CHAPTER 4
If he had scruples, they’d disappeared by morning.
When Kate walked into the dining room, shortly after eight, she came to a sudden stop. ‘What are you doing here?’
Dominic was seated at the small table by the window, eating. ‘I own this house,’ he pleasantly said, setting down his fork. ‘Would you care to join me?’
‘Don’t you have your own apartment?’
‘I do. Did you sleep well?’
‘No, as a matter of fact.’
‘Neither did I. It must be the weather.’ And he began eating again.
She could turn around and leave or she could join him and have some of the delicious-smelling breakfast spread out on the table.
It wasn’t a difficult decision. She was hungry.
Dominic rose as she approached and moved around the table to pull out her chair. Once she sat, he returned to his seat. ‘Coffee or tea?’ He indicated two pots on the table.
‘Coffee please.’
He poured her a cup, then said, ‘If you’d like something other than what’s on the table, I’ll call Mrs Van Kessel and you can tell her.’
He turned back, his brows faintly raised.
‘I know I shouldn’t ask,’ she said in a breathy rush. ‘You probably have women hitting on you all the time, but I’d kick myself later if I left without kissing—’
He moved in a blur, inhaled the word you as his mouth captured hers, felt a sudden, unnatural exhilaration, an impatience he hadn’t felt in years. He heard her small whimper as his tongue skimmed hers, her eagerness exciting him. He shoved her coat down her arms with a sweep of his hands, had her bottom in his grip before her coat hit the floor, and hauling her hard against his body, kissed her with a barely suppressed hunger.
She kissed him back with a rough urgency that surprised him.
It wasn’t a semi-virgin’s kiss.
But then Miss Hart had a no-holds-barred personality he was guessing might go with no-holds-barred sex. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, moving one hand upward to rest in the small of her back. ‘I was trying to behave.’
‘Don’t.’
Her voice was a shimmering hum on his lips; he could even taste her smile. ‘Then we both thank you,’ he murmured, his erection surging higher at such welcome news. ‘Can you feel that?’ He moved his hips in a leisurely back and forth motion, offering graphic evidence of his capacity to please.
‘Clear down to my toes,’ she said with a small heated sigh, his massive erection thick and stiff against her belly. ‘And everywhere in between,’ she purred, curling her arms around his neck, melting against him, every muscle below her waist quivering wildly in anticipation.
‘Now I felt that,’ he whispered.
‘You couldn’t!’
‘I did. Like this.’ Repeating his perfectly targeted slow and easy rhythm, he forced her closer, his fingers splayed on her lower back. Then he flexed his hips.
The fierce jolt of pleasure spiked through her body like an electric charge, her senses taut and needy after hours of waiting for him, for this, for satisfaction. Breathless, panting, she rubbed up against him, asking for more.
He glanced up, took note of Mrs Van Kessel’s absence. Not that he expected to see her standing there. He paid for her discretion. But they needed a bed. Miss Hart was on a short fuse.
‘I need to come. Right now!’
Her hot, throaty demand interrupted his internal debate. It also gave him pause; he didn’t take orders. On the other hand, he’d flown a helluva long way to do just that. He smiled. ‘Your place or mine?’
Perhaps it was the phrase ‘your place or mine’ that brought her treacherous little inner voice to life. Or the smooth assurance in his tone. Or the fact that he knew he could have any woman he wanted. Don’t be stupid. This means nothing to him. And in a terrifying flash of sanity she saw herself as he saw her: another casual conquest, another woman to be forgotten, a woman who paid him back in the usual way for gifts received.
‘Stop! Stop!’ Shoving hard against his chest, she broke his grip and lurched backward. ‘I can’t,’ she gasped. ‘I’m sorry.’ Maybe she was too proud – or foolish … she didn’t know which, but suddenly she didn’t want to be another of Dominic Knight’s faceless fucks.
Dragging air into his lungs, desperately trying to restrain himself, Dominic stared at her in stunned disbelief. Female resistance didn’t exist in his world. A strained moment passed, followed by another, the air crackling with his frustration and outrage. Then his rancour gave way to common sense and after a moment more, he slowly exhaled. Miss Hart was the least likely woman to be playing games. He should have known better. She was a novice and the fact that she did what she did was indication of what fucking a novice entailed. A lot of work and no pay-off. Lesson learned. ‘It’s probably just as well,’ he said mildly, his face expressionless. Bending smoothly, he scooped up her coat from the floor and moved forward to wrap it around her shoulders.
Less capable of impassivity, her body hopelessly immune to logic, Kate’s breathing turned ragged as he leaned in close.
Dominic was finely attuned to female arousal. Considering his vices, it was a valuable asset. He could have changed Miss Hart’s mind.
‘Good night, Miss Hart,’ he said instead. ‘Pleasant dreams.’
But he stood there for a moment after she shut the door, a ghost of a smile on his face.
Christ, who knew? He had scruples.
CHAPTER 4
If he had scruples, they’d disappeared by morning.
When Kate walked into the dining room, shortly after eight, she came to a sudden stop. ‘What are you doing here?’
Dominic was seated at the small table by the window, eating. ‘I own this house,’ he pleasantly said, setting down his fork. ‘Would you care to join me?’
‘Don’t you have your own apartment?’
‘I do. Did you sleep well?’
‘No, as a matter of fact.’
‘Neither did I. It must be the weather.’ And he began eating again.
She could turn around and leave or she could join him and have some of the delicious-smelling breakfast spread out on the table.
It wasn’t a difficult decision. She was hungry.
Dominic rose as she approached and moved around the table to pull out her chair. Once she sat, he returned to his seat. ‘Coffee or tea?’ He indicated two pots on the table.
‘Coffee please.’
He poured her a cup, then said, ‘If you’d like something other than what’s on the table, I’ll call Mrs Van Kessel and you can tell her.’
