A Rake for Christmas Read online

  Astoundingly, she kissed him back with feverish intensity. Little sounds of lust bubbled up from her throat. Her hands buried themselves in his hair and massaged his scalp. Knowing fingers. Delicious kisses.

  Enflamed to the point of madness, his body hardening, swelling beneath the confines of tight cloth, it was all he could do not to rip open the buttons of his falls like an untried boy out of control. Wildly, his tongue delved her mouth. She stroked it with her own and he pulled her close, feeling the soft swell of small breasts against his chest and she shifted to give him better access, angling her head until their mouths harmonized as if they were made for each other.

  Shocked to the core of his being, he broke the kiss. He cupped her face in his hands, searching her face, diving into the depths of her eyes and seeing desire tinged with bravado.

  That dash of courage in such a small ethereal creature brought a smile to his lips and forced unwelcome honor to the forefront of a conscience he thought far too jaded for displays of chivalry. “Are you sure?” he heard himself ask with something like horror. And, oddly, anxiousness.

  She stilled, looking at him, the thoughts going on in her head bringing shadows to her eyes, darkening them to the color of storm clouds. He held his breath and almost groaned aloud. Here he was with an empty bed and a lovely willing woman and he’d let down his guard and offered her a way out. A second time, no less.

  He ran a regretful hand down her slender back, inhaled her perfume and the unique female scent of her arousal as she considered his offer.

  An air of innocence cut a swath through his wicked intentions. Held him back. He’d had no truck with innocence for years. It only ended in pain. Yet she did not kiss like an innocent. Her responses were far too carnal, far too sensual for him to believe she wasn’t a woman of experience with sensual desires well understood.

  She placed the flat of her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes. Her lips, damp from his kisses, smiled, her eyes sparkled. “Yes,” she said. “I am sure.”

  No games then. No playing him like a fish on a line. Just honest straightforward congress.

  Exultation expanded in his chest. A wild tumultuous happiness seeped into his bones. Whispered in his blood.

  He felt youthful. Hopeful.

  Something inside him cracked open as he experienced something he could only liken to joy. A long-forgotten emotion. As if this Christmas had gifted him with the return of his youth. He smiled into her pretty face.

  Her eyes widened, kittenish eyes, yet full of sensuality. Her hair, smoothed back from her brow and pinned neatly at her nape, gleamed copper. Without thought, he let his fingers seek out the pins among the soft silky mass, slipping them free one by one until tendrils fell down her back and over her shoulders to rest on the rise of her small breasts hidden by the high neck of her drab puritanical gown. Long hanks of caramel-colored hair without a hint of a curl.

  He combed the tresses through with his fingers. So achingly soft. A painful longing shot through him. His breath caught in his throat.

  Her breathing speeded up, and the pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. Her sensual response to his touch was wondrous to behold. Warming. Thrilling. Delectable.

  So passionate. So intoxicating. He wanted her with a strength of desire he had never before experienced.

  Perhaps this Christmas would not be so bad after all. If he was lucky he wouldn’t come to his senses until after twelfth night. It wouldn’t be the first time he had kept a woman in a state of arousal for days on end, but this one presented a challenge. Instinctively, he knew she would drive him to the limit of his endurance.

  And he could hardly wait to get started.

  Letting her hair slide across his palm, he bent his head and kissed her lips, her face tipping up sweetly to meet his mouth. “You are perfectly lovely,” he murmured against her mouth.

  The sensation inside him, the softness, seemed to grow in size, to take up too much space in his chest. What if this wasn’t just a casual sexual attraction? He froze.

  Here lay danger.

  He should thank her for her delicious kisses and send her away.

  Even as the thought formed, he gazed onto eyes both innocent and knowing, a face so lovely it made a breath catch in his throat, and he couldn’t speak the words.

  “I don’t even know your name,” he said, his voice strangely hoarse. For some reason, he wanted her to tell him the truth.

  She blinked. A tiny hesitation. “Jeannie.”

  He felt a stab of disappointment. So his cat lady had her own secrets. Mentally he shrugged. He had no right to pry. He desired nothing but the pleasure of her delicious body, after all.

  “Call me Richard,” he murmured softly.

  Eugenie saw the disbelief in his gaze and regret flashed through her that she could not be honest. But she couldn’t cause another scandal. They were two lonely people, as he had said, but consolation could be only for one night. There would be no tomorrows. No tender touches or sharing. They would keep their mutual emptiness at bay tonight and go their separate ways.

  She’d have to move, of course. She couldn’t take the chance of meeting him again. But she should have moved the moment he rented this house. The moment she realized what kind of man had moved in. The moment her blood had heated to boiling point when she realized what he was doing just beyond her bedroom wall.

  He was watching her. Waiting for her assent.

  The look in his eyes reminded her of a young boy lost and her foolish heart squeezed, but then his smile widened to pure seduction and her insides clenched with a need she’d tried to deny for too many years.

  She wanted this tonight. Needed him. This man. No other had ever affected her so deeply. And yet they would never meet again. No one must ever know, not even him, for men like him loved to bray about their conquests as she’d learned to her cost. But tonight belonged to Jeannie, the girl who’d lost her honor so many Christmases ago and now longed for the touch of this man, as if it could heal past wounds.

  She twined her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through the golden locks at his nape and took his mouth in a kiss full of hunger.

  Her body hummed with pleasure at the feel of his strong torso beneath her fingers, the warmth beneath the fine lawn shirt, the feeling of strength and power, and the erotic slide of his tongue around hers.

  She sank into the bliss of it, letting her mind go as her body thrummed beneath the caress of his hands stroking her back and her sides.

  He didn’t let her keep the initiative for long. How it happened she didn’t quite know, but without breaking the kiss, in moments he had reversed their positions and eased her backward along the sofa.

  Impressed by his demonstration of male strength, she sank into soft upholstery covered in brocade, the weight of one heavy thigh across her hip. She tilted her pelvis into the delicious pressure as he used his tongue and mouth with consummate skill. He nipped at the inside of her lower lip as if he’d found some new delicacy heretofore unknown to man. He stroked the roof of her mouth, moving his hips in tiny circles until every inch of her skin tingled and shivered.

  Thrills of pleasure radiated outwards from her center, shortening her breath until she could only yield to his onslaught, melting against his hard length, murmuring her delight at each new sensation. On fire, her body clamored for fulfillment.

  His hand wandered over her shoulders and arms, flowed over her breasts, followed the curve of her waist as if he would learn every inch of her through her gown, while his arousal—his hard male member—pressed hard against her hip. It felt lovely, but nowhere near close enough, or hard enough. She wanted to feel his skin against her skin, see the breadth of his chest, touch him everywhere. Taste him.

  Carnal pleasure was about more than mere fulfillment. And if she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.

  Eugenie shoved at his shoulder with a cry of protest. Reluctantly, after many small lingering kisses on her lips, her cheek, her jaw, he ra
ised his head, looking down at her, his eyes hooded, his mouth full and sensual, his expression one of controlled hunger.

  The control came at a price, judging by the hard set of his jaw. Breathing hard, he waited for her to speak.

  Looking at him, she once more felt a sense of wonder, and something softer and more overpowering than lust. An ache that might never leave her if she gave it room in her heart. “There is too much between us,” she said.

  His expression darkened, his eyes became wary.

  “Clothes,” she said on a laugh that sounded close to a sob of frustration.

  His eyes cleared. He grinned. “You must have read my mind.” He lowered his gaze to the front of her gown. “Those buttons down the front don’t open, do they?” He sounded ridiculously hopeful.

  She laughed and shook her head. “Sadly, no.”

  “Just my luck. Sit up, then.” He rose to his feet and pulled her to a sitting position. “Give me your back.”

  It didn’t take him long to figure out the fastenings. She supposed he must have had lots of practice. The twinge of jealousy was as ridiculous as it was unwanted, since she had to be glad he didn’t fumble and take forever. She didn’t want to wait.

  Such a wanton. Heat rushed to her face. A surge of embarrassment made her feel slightly queasy. If anyone ever found out what she had done tonight…it didn’t bear thinking about. She pressed her hands to the front of her gown, preventing it from slipping to her waist. Would he find her slim proportions laughable after his opulent opera singer?

  Annoyed, she lifted her chin. Anyone could see she wasn’t made like those women, no matter how modest her gown. It hadn’t seemed to cool his ardor one little bit.

  Gently, his hands slipped the gown down her shoulders and he parted her hair and pressed his lips to her nape. She shuddered at the glorious sensation against her skin as he licked a warm damp path across her shoulders and his hand smoothed and soothed as if he sensed her inner nervousness.

  “You are lovely,” he whispered in her ear. Her toes curled inside her slippers. “Stand for me, sweet.”

  And though her knees felt as weak as pump water, she rose with his help and stood with her back to him. Alternately holding her with one arm then the other around her waist, he peeled the gown off her arms and over her hips, while his lips wandered delicately across her back.

  The gown whispered to the floor and she arched against his hot lips, wanting more of the wonderful sensation. His fingers fumbled behind her for a moment, then he laughed and spun her around. “Your stays close at the front.”

  “So I can manage for myself.” On the days when her maid was granted a day off.

  “Very practical.” His gaze dropped to her chest and against her will, she held her breath. His lowered lashes hid his thoughts, but his smile didn’t falter. Emboldened, she tugged at the bow where the laces met just below the lace edge of her chemise.

  “Let me,” he said brushing her fingers aside. “This is always the best part.”

  A shudder ran through her at the salacious note in his voice and she let her hands drop. “I hope you are not disappointed.”

  A quick seductive smile and a lazy glance turned her insides liquid. “Nothing about you disappoints,” he murmured softly. He pulled the stays free, his gaze riveted on her breasts. “You are perfect.” Reverence echoed in his silken tones and she felt herself melting from the inside out.

  He traced the edge of her chemise with one finger and sent shivers darting across her skin. He gently cupped the underside of both breasts in his large warm hands as if testing their weight. “So pretty. So firm.” His thumbs grazed across her nipples. They furled into tight little swollen buds and she gasped as she felt her breasts grow full and heavy.

  Throwing her arms around his neck, she leaned her hips into him, circling against the obvious erection beneath the tight fabric of his pantaloons.

  His eyelids drooped. “Hussy,” he said hoarsely.

  “Take off your shirt,” she demanded, her voice low and rasping. “I want to see you too.”

  “Never fear, love. You’ll see all of me just as fast as I can manage it.”

  He stepped out of her arms, leaving them feeling strangely empty and pulled his shirt off over his head. His chest was magnificent. Lean. Wide with elegant lines, tapering down to his waist. More of the light golden fuzz created a triangle between the beautiful curves of muscle at his breast and trailed over a ridged stomach and navel to disappear into his waistband where his hands were busy with his falls.

  Anticipating what would come next, she licked her lips.

  He peeled the tight fabric over his hips and down muscular thighs. He kicked off his shoes then pulled the pantaloons clear with a swift tug. He stood, straight and tall. Letting her look her fill. And what a glorious sight.

  Slim built and well muscled, with the glow of health and youth, he was more than perfect. His shoulders and chest, while not brawny, were sculpted and smooth, tapering to a hard belly and narrow hips set on long well-muscled thighs. His erection jutted proudly from the nest of crisp golden curls surrounding his heavy-looking stones. A glorious male.

  And the longer she looked the taller and straighter and larger his erection.

  A fully aroused male with the physical beauty of a god, the face of an angel and a devilish smile. A sight she would never forget for the rest of her life.

  He cocked a brow in question.

  It wouldn’t do to bolster an ego as enormous as his male member. “Acceptable. Very acceptable, in fact.”

  He cracked a laugh. “A tough critic, I see.” His gaze roamed over her body and she flushed, knowing he could not be equally impressed.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “For what?”

  “For being here tonight of all nights.”

  Surprised, she gazed into the warmth of his eyes and saw more than mere lust. There was something else. An impression of deep loneliness

  Then he pulled her close and drove out rational thought. He kissed her, his hands moving in circles on her back, drifting lower until they curved around her buttocks. He pulled her tight against him, supporting her weight in his palms as if she weighed nothing. The hard length of his erection pressed against her belly, demanding, and offering.

  She rose up on tiptoes tilting her pelvis, grinding her mons against his hardness, feeling the tension build with each lascivious stroke. A groan rumbled up from his chest. He broke their kiss and nuzzled into her neck, licking the sensitive spot below her ear, nipping at her earlobe. Shivers rippled over her skin and she moaned her approval and impatience.

  “I should take you upstairs,” he said, his voice a hoarse growl. “But I can’t wait. Not this time.”

  “Nor me,” she panted.

  He lifted her higher, until her feet no longer touched the ground. A thrill shot through her as she realized his intention. Grabbing onto his shoulders she put one leg up around his hip and tilted her head to give him better access to her throat. He walked her backwards, pressing her against the pretty Chinese wallpaper, his thigh pushing between her legs, his one hand lifting her higher, while the other explored the sensitive flesh above her garters.

  She was wet for him. Desire gripped her in viselike claws. Need so great, so long held in check, spilled over a great hot rushing wave as he stroked her cleft and the hard little nub wherein lay the source of her pleasure.

  Her head fell back against the wall as wave upon wave of desire tightened inside her until she couldn’t breathe or think. Her whole world became the place where his hand teased and tormented, a dark place where she struggled towards the light.

  “Come into me,” she begged, wrapping her legs tight around his waist.

  He raised his head, his eyes heavy, his face tight with pleasurable pain, the agony of self-denial and lust. Never had she seen a man more exciting, more carnal, more primitive. He wanted her too.

  “Now,” she commanded.

  He squeezed his eyes shut a
s if trying to resist, then his lips twisted in a savage smile. “At your command, sweet Jeannie.” With a grunt he lifted her higher and she clung on for dear life as he held her in one hand as he guided himself to her cleft, bathing the silken head of his shaft in her moisture, stroking the swollen and sensitized flesh at her entrance, causing her insides to clench unbearably.

  With a wild cry, she thrust downwards, impaling herself. He groaned, supporting her on legs that trembled with her weight, and drove upwards.

  A moan of pleasure burst from her throat.

  “That’s it, sweet. Don’t hold anything back.” He hoisted her higher up the wall, getting beneath her and thrusting home again and again. Hard and fast. Furious. Her body shook. Her mind trembled. And the knot inside her grew so tight, she thought she would die if it didn’t break soon.

  “Take me there,” she cried, her voice pitched high. She bit his earlobe. His neck. The point of his shoulder. Tasting the salt on his skin, inhaling the smell of clean male sweat, and musky desire.

  She lifted one breast to his hot mouth and feverishly he suckled and licked and nibbled until she cried out her need. And all the time his hips drove his beautiful body deep inside her in a powerful pounding rhythm that matched the beat of her drumming heart.

  The knot inside her unraveled. Too soon. Too fast. She was flying apart. Free and unfettered for a brief moment in time, she let the blaze of bliss blind her and wipe out every thought.

  Earth-shattering bliss.

  Eugenie hung around his neck, panting for air, shivering with the heat billowing outward from her core and felt him pull from her body and reach his climax with a deep hoarse cry dragged from his chest accompanied by the hot burst of seed against her belly. Limp, she lay her forehead against his shoulder and felt their hearts beat in unison as they came slowly back to their senses. His legs strained to hold her weight. Supporting his forearms on the wall, he kissed whatever part of her he could reach with lingering lips.