Her frosty attitude nearly made him explode again. But as he observed the stiffness of her spine and the way she perched on the edge of the seat, he realized her hands were shaking. She’d clasped them so tight her knuckles were white, but she could not still them. She was not as indifferent as she’d like him to believe.
He shrugged out of his jacket and settled into a chair. “I realized that if I wanted to find out what d’Eglantine and his organization had planned, I needed to convince them I was on their side.”
“You could have mentioned your plan to me.”
He nearly smiled at her angry tone. The ice was melting. “That was not an option.
You would have insisted on accompanying me to the interview with d’Eglantine. He would not hesitate to kill you, and Mouton would make you wish you were dead before he rendered you thus.”
“I would not have followed you.”
“I’m supposed to believe that after tonight’s antics.” Fire burned in her eyes as she pushed herself from her seat and began to pace “I spent the morning after our wedding waiting you to escort me to my new home. When you didn’t arrive, I made excuses for you. But after a few days of living in your house alone, I was humiliated and disgusted. I returned to my aunt not knowing whether you hated me too much to see me again or whether something terrible had happened to you.
“Then Farrington appeared on my balcony. I thought he was you until he entered my room. I didn’t know whether I could trust him, but I took the risk, knowing that if you were in danger, I had to help you.”
She ran her hands down her dress. “I costumed myself in this monstrosity and went to that disgusting party, because I thought you might need my help. Then you appear, perfectly fine. God knows how well you’d been enjoying yourself before I arrived.”
“Enjoying myself?” Rhys moved toward her, rage boiling in him once again. “You think I was enjoying myself? I’ve spent most of the last three days in d’Eglantine’s company. Then I had to attend this party and pander to some of the basest men in all of
London, and you think I did it for fun?” As he spoke, she backed up until her hip slammed against a large desk.
“You must have enjoyed the entertainment provided for the guests.” He grabbed Amanda’s arms and shook her. “I didn’t touch any of those women, though plenty were willing to serve me any way I chose. But I didn’t want them. The only woman I want is a wretched, violet-eyed minx who neither trusts nor obeys me.”
“I’m supposed to believe you won’t be back with your whores before the ink on our marriage register dries.”
Rhys saw red. He swiped everything off the desk. A glass paper weight shattered as it hit the floor. He pushed Amanda against the desk, pressing his weight on top of her.
“You’d better believe it.”
“Forcing yourself on me will not help.”
Amanda’s eyes had turned to ice again, but he knew they would not stay that way for long. “No force will be necessary. I’d bet my entire fortune you’re wet and ready for me right now. Fighting with me always brings your passion to the surface.”
“Bastard.” She pushed at him but couldn’t free herself.
“Show me how little I affect you.” He pinned her wrists and held her still with the weight of his body.
She tried to say something else, but he cut off her words with his mouth. At first, she kept her lips firmly closed. He used his tongue to lick at the crease between them, and she lost the will to fight. She opened her mouth and her tongue tangled with his.
He pushed her legs open with his hips, pulling her body toward him so he could press his cock against the soft flesh between her thighs. “You want this. Admit it.” She shook her head, keeping her eyes tightly shut.
“Look at me.”
“No. I can’t—”
“Look me in the eye and tell you don’t want this. Then I’ll let you go, and I won’t touch you again.”
After a few seconds, she opened her eyes. They were the color of a stormy sky.
He rocked his hips against her. “Tell me what you want.”
“No.”
“You want me. The anger, the fear, the pain, none of it matters. None of it can stop what’s between us.”
Her hips moved against him, caressing the length of his shaft. Her head tipped back and her eyes fluttered closed again. “Take me.”
Rhys tugged on Amanda’s thin bodice until he lowered it enough to free her breasts.
His mouth captured her nipple as his full weight pressed her against the cool wood of the desk. She moaned and clutched at his head.
Despite her anger, the rush of illicit, embarrassing desire she’d felt at the party had not receded before Rhys hauled her to the carriage. Damn him for noticing that arguing with him aroused her.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. And she rocked her hips against his hard shaft, loving the way it pressed against the focal point of her desire.
What would it feel like for him to thrust his shaft inside her? She was determined to find out. This time there would be no turning back.
She ran her hands over his back, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath the smooth fabric of his evening clothes. She tugged at his shirt, trying to untuck it so she could feel his skin. She succeeded, but his waistcoat was too tight to allow her hands the freedom she wanted. She tried to reach the buttons, but he kept his body fused to hers.
Finally he rose off her. Gripping both sides of his waistcoat, he tugged until the buttons popped free and scattered on the floor. Then he pulled his shirt over his head and threw both garments to the floor.
She noted the bandage on his arm, exactly at the place where she’d squeezed him earlier. She wanted to know what had happened, but she couldn’t form a coherent question. She was too busy feasting on his perfect form which was not in the least marred by his injuries. The wound he’d received in the fight at the Black Eagle now looked like no more than a scratch.
He leaned over her, and she let herself rest against the desk. She reached for him, wanting to pull his mouth down to her, but he pulled away, gathering her skirt and pushing it up until she was fully exposed to him.
Farrington had insisted that wearing any undergarments would ruin the effect of the dress. Not yet used to such stark exposure, she fought the urge to close her legs and hide from Rhys.
His hands gripped her thighs, pulling them even further apart. He leaned forward and ran his tongue across her stomach. She shivered, arching toward him as he gave her teasing licks and nips. She quickly forgot her embarrassment.
He cupped her mound, and the heat from his skin made her wild. She squirmed against him, but he refused to give her enough pressure to satisfy the ache building between her legs.
“Patience, darling.”
She reached up and gave his cheek a teasing caress. “I don’t want to be patient. I want you now.”
“We’re going to take our time with this, little minx. The more you delay your pleasure, the better it will be.”
“Please.” She hated herself for begging, but she’d waited an eternity to make love with him. Revenge. Control. Anger. None of it mattered. All she cared about was the incredible pleasure he’d showed her before their marriage.
He drew his finger downward, through her wetness. She tried to clamp her legs around his hand, but he used his hips to keep her legs apart. When he finally slid a finger into her, she gasped, shocked by the primal pleasure that sizzled through her.
She opened her eyes and saw him watching her, and the look on his face startled her.
She’d expected to see the wild, animalistic look she’d seen in his eyes when he’d touched her before. Instead, he wore a joyous smile, one she’d seen only once before, on the day of their wedding.
Her ability to inspire such raw emotion gave her a dangerous sense of hope. Could their marriage work after all?
But now was not the time to dwell on the future. She pushed the thought from her mind, concentrating on the sensations he was creating as he slid his finger in and out. He lowered his mouth to her belly once more, kissing her bare skin until his mouth hovered near the tight bud that throbbed with need.
She remembered a picture from her secret book where a woman lay with her legs spread while a man kissed her most secret flesh. The expression on the woman’s face was one of pure ecstasy. Did Rhys really intend to—
She never completed the thought. His tongue made contact with her tender flesh, and she jerked against him. Primitive, mewling sounds escaped her throat before she could stop them. He sucked the hot, distended flesh into his mouth, alternating between licking and nipping, and drawing sensations from her that were nearly painful in their intensity.
He slid his finger out then slipped it and another back inside, stretching her all the more. She groaned as he worked his fingers in concert with the rhythm of his mouth.
She grew restless, tossing her head as she climbed higher and higher toward that explosion of bliss he’d given her before. Any second she would tumble off the peak.
Suddenly, he stopped and pulled away, leaving her gasping with need.
She sucked in her breath, trying to summon the wits to speak. “You can’t stop now.” He laughed. “I can do whatever I want. I’m in control, and I intend to make you wait.”
She tried to sit up, but he pinned her wrists. Anger washed over her. “Don’t punish me like this.”
“I hardly think this constitutes punishment.” Amanda fought to pull herself from under him. “Please.”
“You think you’d be satisfied if I gave you exactly what you want, but you’re wrong.
Things between us are not that simple.”
Amanda wanted to counter him, but she knew he spoke the truth.
Rhys brushed his lips against her throat, marveling at her beauty and the strength of his need for her. She ceased her struggles, and he released his grip on her hands as he
licked his way across her belly so he could once again taste the hot, succulent skin between her legs. She whimpered, twining her hands in his hair and pulling him tighter against her. He could worship her like this all night, though his cock might burst from his pants if he ignored it much longer.
But he had to prove his point to her. Delayed gratification was worth all the agony he was putting them through. When he drew her nub into his mouth and bit down gently, her whimpers turned to sharp cries. She was close, but he wanted to push her even closer. He held her hips still, pressing her body firmly into the desk while he increased the speed and pressure of his tongue.
“Rhys, oh God, please—”
He’d intended to stop again. To bring her down from the brink and up at least once more, but her cries seduced him. He thrust his fingers deep inside her and sucked hard.
She exploded, shuddering against his mouth.
When Amanda lay back against the desk, limp and satiated, he couldn’t help but smile at the joy on her face. He didn’t know how many women he’d slept with since his sexual initiation, but he’d never seen such deep, honest surrender.
He longed rip his trousers open and enter her then and there. The desk was the perfect height. He could slide her hips to the edge and thrust deep. The thought of her writhing against him, begging to be filled nearly made him come in his pants.
But he didn’t think she wanted her first time to be on the top of a desk. He doubted they could make it all the way to a bedroom, but at least he could make a soft bed of the pillows by the fire.
He pulled her to a sitting position, letting her lean on him for support. Then he picked her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He carried her toward the hearth, undoing the clasps at the back of her dress as he did so.
Kneeling on the thick rug by the fire, he lifted her dress over her head then quickly divested her of her shoes and stockings. Once she was naked, he laid her back so he could see all of her, taking several long moments to drink in the sight.
She stirred on the rug, opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. She watched hungrily as he pulled off his shoes, removed his trousers, and stretched out beside her. Her eyes rested on his rigid shaft, and she gave a wicked smile. She surprised him by sitting up and pushing him onto his back.
“It’s my turn.” Her voice sounded like warm honey.
She took out the pins that remained in her hair, flinging them carelessly to the floor.
Her tresses tumbled around her, falling all the way to the carpet and swirling around her folded legs. The combination of her curtain of hair and her nakedness made her look like of one of the fae intent on seducing a mortal. He was more than willing to be her chosen victim.
She leaned over him. Her hair covered his chest, tickling him and making every inch of his skin come alive with need for her. Her moist lips touched his chest and slid downward across his stomach. He lost the ability to breathe.
She moved lower. He felt her hot breath against the head of his cock. Her tongue flicked out and tasted him. He feared he would come within seconds. Where had she learned such tricks?
She licked him again, this time tasting his entire length.
“Amanda.” His voice shook with need.
“I’m in control now,” she murmured as she took him into her mouth.
He groaned and fought the tide of dizzying pleasure.
Amanda was shocked by how thoroughly he filled her mouth and by how much she loved the taste of his smooth shaft. When she drew him deeper into her mouth, he moaned and arched up.
“Amanda…please…” He fisted his hands in her hair, pulling her closer.
She loved being able to make him feel as needy as she did. But his moans of pleasure stoked the fire inside her. She quickly grew as desperate as she’d been when he had her pinned to the desk.
She sucked harder. His hips shot up, driving more of his shaft into her mouth. She held him deep for a few seconds before pulling back and using her tongue to tease him.
He tried to push her away. “I can’t hold on. You’ve got to stop.” She wrestled with him, trying fruitlessly to pin his arms as he had hers. He flipped her over and stretched out on top of her. Their naked bodies slid against each other.