The Prize (46 page)

Virginia
wanted to tell them that she
could not wear that, oh no, that was for a woman like Mademoiselle Didier, it
was for a woman like the countess.

Devlin nodded, his
eyes warmer and brighter than before.

Madame Didier gave an
order to Sofie in French and she began to unbutton
Virginia
’s dark pelisse as Madame sat down and began
making notes.

Virginia
gasped as it was removed.
"I...what are you doing?" she asked warily.

"You must
undress. We must take your measurements," Sofie said softly, unbuttoning
the back of her dress.

Virginia
looked at Devlin for help.

But no help was to be
had from that quarter, as he merely

crossed his long
legs. "Do not mind me," he murmured, apparently relaxing and
preparing to enjoy the entertainment.

Virginia
felt the dress opening down her
back and the delicate touch of Sofie's nimble fingers. She was disbelieving,
but not angry. Devlin's eyes continued to gleam and what was actually happening
was making her breathless.

Her heart beat far
too hard. She swallowed and lifted her arms and allowed the couturier's niece
to remove her dress over her head. Madame Didier looked up from her notes and clucked
when she saw the pantalettes. By now,
Virginia
's
cheeks were warming, but so was the rest of her body.

She glanced around,
to see if there was a window that could be opened, but there was not. "It
is still the fashion hi
America
,"
Virginia
lied. She shot Devlin a glance.

He hadn't heard her,
as he was quite obviously distracted. His gaze was on her ankles, clad in a
wisp of silk stocking, and then it moved to the tips of her breasts, which
were, naturally, hard and covered only with the thin wisp of her chemise.

Before
Virginia
could blink, Sofie removed that
garment as well, so she stood clad only in her corset, pantalettes and the
drawers beneath. Her breasts were bare, upthrust by the corset, and she was
briefly stunned. Her cheeks went on fire and she slowly looked at Devlin.

And he, of course, he
was staring very intently now.

The air thickened in
the room.

It thickened enough
that it was very hard to breathe.

"Capitaine ?
"
Sofie
asked, and before
Virginia
could react she held the red
satin over her chest, a stunningly sensuous caress against her breasts, and she
said, as softly, "Imagine that,
Capitaine,
imagine that."

Virginia
bit her lip to cut off a moan.
Every inch of her body was now turgidly raised.

"I more than
approve," Devlin said far too quietly, his tone rough.

The red satin was
whipped away.

"Mademoiselle
needs undergarments." Madame stood. "Two corsets, one black, one
white, both trimmed with ribbons, with lace. And for each, a chemise to match.
Out?"

Sofie now held up a
section of black lace and as Devlin seemed to nod, she whisked it across
Virginia
's chest.
Virginia
didn't have to glance at herself to know the
lace was transparent.

Devlin's gaze was
rapt.

"Le Capitaine
is happy?"
Sofie said softly.

"Very."

The lace disappeared,
followed by a sheer ivory linen, and when that was gone, several ribbons in
shades of ivory, cream and pink trickled down
Virginia
's breasts.

"Oui?"
Madame asked briskly.

Virginia
tried to swallow, but the
ribbons were silk and swallowing was now as difficult as breathing.

Devlin nodded, no
longer speaking. His gaze moved over the ribbons—over her breasts—and finally lifted
to her face.

She could not look
away.

"Use them all
with the ivory," he said.

"Superbe, mon
capitaine,"
Madame
agreed wholeheartedly. "Drawers to match in the latest fashion,
out?"

"Yes,"
Devlin said.

"I wish to show
you something. A special silk, for the undergarment, very special,
mademoiselle will love it. It is downstairs,
un moment, s'il vous
plait."
Madame walked out.

Virginia
wondered how she was going to
survive the fitting.

Sofie now held up a
rich, shimmering dark purple silk against
Virginia
and a hollow feeling overcame her as Devlin
slowly nodded. This time Sofie did not toss the silk aside. "How low,
mon
capitaine?"
Sofie murmured. She adjusted

380                          

the fabric so that
only the topmost swells of
Virginia
's chest were revealed.
"Pour
la jour?"

"Lower," he
said.

Virginia
felt as if she were in a trance,
a sexual one, and she blinked, not sure if she was horrified or not. She had
never worn such a low neckline in her life, much less even lower.

"Here?"
Sofie asked, lowering the garment by an inch.

"Very
nice," Devlin said thickly. And suddenly he spoke quickly in fluent
French.

"D
"accord,"
Sofie
said when he was through. She sent
Virginia
a glance and hurried out, closing the door behind her.

Virginia
met Devlin's gaze as he slowly
stood and she turned, reaching wildly for the closest fabric in order to cover
herself. But she knew.

"Don't," he
said, a command.

She froze, a wisp of
silk in her hand, her nipples hurting, her sex ripe.

He tugged the silk
from her hand.

"What are you
doing?" she whispered hoarsely, her eyes wide.

"You are so
beautiful," he said in return, sliding his hands over her breasts and
clasping them firmly.

Virginia
wanted to be quiet and she
failed—the terrible sensuality that had been building in her erupted and she
cried out. Her eyes closed as he rubbed her nipples, making them harder and
tauter and tighter than before, until she was trembling helplessly, moaning,
her sex engorged and throbbing wildly for relief.

"Look at
me," he commanded softly.

Somehow her eyes
obeyed, opening, and their gazes met. His were silver flames.

He smiled a little
and bent and touched one tip with his tongue.

Virginia
cried out, clasping his head,
wanting to tell him

not to do this—in the
back of her mind she knew that Madame or Sofie could walk in on them—but she
couldn't, and as he licked her nipple she began to thrash, the explosion imminent.

Then she felt his
hands slide down to her waist and begin to tug her pantalettes down.

In a haze of lust,
she managed to worry about what he was doing. As if reading her very thoughts,
he murmured against her aching, swollen nipple, "Let me please you,
darling."

"N-not
here," she managed.

But his face was
against her naval now and she felt him smile through the corset she wore.
"They won't disturb us." He tugged on her pantalettes and they
disappeared, pooling at her ankles.

And finally mindless,
Virginia
grasped his shoulders, clawing
him, pushing him down.

"Patience is a
virtue," he reminded her, sliding his face down until he rubbed his cheek
over her mons.

"Oh,
Devlin," she wept.

He kissed the delta
there, not once but twice and then three times.

She fell.

He caught her and
laid her down on piles of silk and satin, and as she spread wide for him he
separated the heavy folds of her sex and inserted his tongue there.

Virginia
arched, sobbing, exploding,
shattering and flying high. "Devlin!" she wept.

He sucked it deep
then teased it softly as she shattered another time, sobbing and moaning and
shaking like a leaf.

When she began to
float, her mind came back to life. She gasped, opening her eyes, still on her
back on the floor, naked except for her stockings and corset. Devlin crouched
between her thighs, which remained spread shamefully for him. She quickly began
to close them but he palmed her sex. "Don't."

Desire surged. She
lay still, panting. "What if—" she began, barely able to think of an
intrusion by the couturier or her niece.

He began toying with
the folds, combing through the hair. "They won't interrupt us."

Virginia
wanted to refute him but forgot
the subject, arching high against his hand. His fingers entered her, and now
there was no barrier. The sensation was so powerful, of his being inside her,
even if it was just his two fingers, that her stomach seemed to disappear and
the room blackened.

"Can you come
for me again, little one?" he asked roughly.

She somehow looked at
him and was met with a blaze of silver. "Please...put more...there,"
she whispered.

He shoved harder,
fiercely, and she saw sweat rolling down his brow.

But it wasn't enough.
And
Virginia
knew what she wanted. She began
to sit, reaching for him, brushing her hand over the stiff, rigid line raised
brilliantly against his pale britches—but he pushed her hand away.

Incredulous, she met
his gaze.

He moved hard in her.

She gasped, her
stomach disappearing again, collapsing back onto a pile of discarded lace and
linen. His fingers moved deep and deeper still, large and strong, surge after
surge.
Virginia
was vaguely aware of his gaze
upon her, knew she was shameless, and she began to writhe and beg.
"Please, Devlin, please, come inside me...
please!"

He grunted and leaned
over her somehow and she felt his mouth on hers, his tongue thrusting deep,
even as his hand continued to rock her, and she knew she needed, wanted, had to
have
more.

And suddenly his hand
was gone. She was in his arms and his phallus rubbed over her sex and she
shouted, gripping his

shoulders, exploding
into a thousand pieces, not once but many times, while he ground himself over
her, again and again, panting and murmuring her name.

This time, she lay
for an eternity upon the soft piles of silks and satins on the floor, and he
lay on top of her, breathing hard, unmoving, still hard and aroused. She began
to blush. She began to think. She began to wonder and to worry.

He sat up.

She met his gaze.

His eyes slid over
her entire body. A flush mottled his high cheekbones.

Virginia
sat, reaching for a fabric and
covering herself. She had not expected this. She was stunned but not ashamed,
not at all. And she wanted more, so much more.

"It's a little
late for that," he remarked, eyeing the wisp of pink silk she held.

She wet her lips. She
still ached to have him deep inside her, and not just with his fingers.

"I have longed
to do that again," he said quietly, meeting her gaze. "You are
incredibly passionate,
Virginia
."

His words went
straight through her heart. "What about your pleasure?" she asked as
quietly, her trepidation growing. But even a real union of their bodies would
not be enough.
If only he would reach out now and touch her with real affection.

But he did not. He
shrugged, standing. "I'll survive."

She also stood,
refusing to be disappointed, and quickly stepped into her drawers and
pantalettes. "You appear ready to mount a cannon," she managed, and
then she gave up. She was disappointed.

"What?" he
choked.

She did not
understand him at all. She did not understand why he couldn't become fond of
her, why it had to be simply sex, and she would never understand the line he
had

drawn and what it
really meant. "I mean, I am sorry you won't take your pleasure, too."

"I heard you the
first time," he said, and he actually smiled at her. "A man loves to
have his size appreciated."

"I am sure you
have had more than your share of appreciation." She faced him.
"Devlin, I'm confused."

His mask reappeared.
"Don't be. It was just...a moment. I should have never stayed here for
your fitting."

"And what? I am
so
beautiful
that you lost
almost
all control?"