Read Some Like to Shock (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 2) Online
Authors: Carole Mortimer
None of which Genevieve needed to know in any detail, but most especially those viciously insulting remarks Forster had made in regard to her personally …
Benedict stubbed out his cigar before rising slowly to his feet. ‘I believe it is enough that he will not be bothering you again, Genevieve. Especially as the two of us now have a more pressing matter to attend to.’
Genevieve’s eyes widened as Benedict walked slowly, and with lethally elegant intent,
about the table until he stood at her side, the evidence of that ‘more pressing matter’ unmistakable even to her innocent gaze.
A
nd instantly brought about a return of Genevieve’s previous feelings of nervousness!
What if Benedict were to attempt to make love to her and she failed him once again?
Benedict’s statement of earlier, in regard to the women he had known previously, confirmed that he was a gentleman who was accustomed to much more worldly women than she, women who did not need to be coaxed and petted in order to share their bed with him. The type of woman, in fact, that Genevieve now sincerely doubted she could ever be.
‘You are giving far too much thought to the matter, Genevieve, instead of allowing your actions to speak for themselves,’ Benedict
murmured softly as he took both her hands in his and pulled her effortlessly to her feet so that she now stood in front of him. ‘And this evening it is you who will decide what those actions shall be. You approve of that idea?’ he prompted huskily as her eyes instantly lit up with interest.
Her little pink tongue moved in a moist sweep across the fullness of her lips before she answered him. ‘If it means I may touch you intimately, as I did earlier today …?’
Benedict’s breath caught in his throat at thoughts of having Genevieve’s hands and lips upon him once again. ‘If that is what you would like?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Her eyes glowed in anticipation. ‘I believe I should enjoy that very much.’
Benedict’s breath stilled altogether. ‘Then that is what we shall do.’ He released her hands before moving to the door and turning the key in the lock.
Genevieve eyed him uncertainly. ‘What are you doing?’
‘All evening, as we ate our dinner together, I have imagined you with your hair down, posing naked and tempting upon the
chaise
over there in front of the window.’ He moved
back towards her with those purposeful and predatory strides.
Genevieve’s cheeks warmed at the knowledge that Benedict’s thoughts had been as distracted as her own. ‘You wish me to undress now, in the dining room …?’
‘We shall undress each other, Genevieve,’ he assured her huskily, the intensity of those black eyes fixed upon her parted lips. ‘You have dismissed Jenkins for the night, but I still think it best to lock the door for the sake of your modesty, so that there is absolutely no risk of anyone walking in and finding us together.’
Genevieve very much doubted that Jenkins, if he should return and discover the door was locked, would dare to knock for entry—but that would not prevent him from drawing his own conclusions as to the reason his mistress and Lord Benedict Lucas were alone together on the other side of that locked door!
Instead of filling her with dismay, Genevieve found herself titillated by the thoughts of her household staff knowing—or, at least, guessing—that she and Benedict were being intimate together.
As Benedict had no doubts intended she should.
She looked up at him admiringly as she removed the pins from her hair and allowed those red-gold tresses to fall loosely about her shoulders. ‘I believe you to be an extremely wicked gentleman.’
He gazed at her hair admiringly. ‘One does one’s best to oblige.’
Genevieve chuckled softly. ‘And are you now going to “oblige” me even further by undressing …?’
‘Oh, no, love, in that it is you who will oblige me, by removing my clothes.’ He smiled down at her rakishly.
Genevieve felt that now-familiar warmth enter her cheeks at thoughts of removing Benedict’s clothes, one by one. Something she found both unacceptable and exciting to contemplate. To be given the freedom, the invitation, to undress Benedict, to slowly reveal the splendid nakedness of his muscled body, to her avid gaze and caressing hands, seemed impossible for her to do at the same time as she found it thrilling beyond belief.
She looked up at him shyly from beneath the fullness of her long lashes. ‘I trust you will make the necessary … allowances for my lack of finesse in such matters?’ She began to slowly unfasten the buttons upon his waistcoat.
A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘I believe I shall be too busy enjoying the experience to concern myself with how it is done!’
Benedict did not look as if he were enjoying himself as Genevieve removed first his jacket and then his waistcoat, an expression of strained tension etched into the harshness of his features as she then removed his neckcloth before unbuttoning the collar of his shirt, her fingers lingering caressingly on the silky dark hair revealed by his unbuttoned collar, his breath drawn in sharply as her fingertips skimmed the hardness of his nipples.
‘You seemed to enjoy this earlier … Are you—can it be that you are as … sensitive here as I am?’ she prompted curiously.
‘If a single caress to your breasts succeeds in making your cock pulse and your balls tighten in pleasure to the point of pain, then, yes, I believe I am,’ he bit out tautly.
Such frankness of speech should have shocked her, Genevieve knew, and yet once again she found herself excited, her breasts tightening beneath the bodice of her gown, a warm dampness gathering between her heated thighs. ‘I am sure, if I were in possession of a cock or balls, that its pulsing and their tightening
would equal my own depths of pleasure when you caress my breasts, yes.’
Benedict stared down at her blankly for several long seconds, before he closed his eyes briefly, and then opened again as he gave a sharp bark of laughter. ‘You were not meant to repeat my words, love,’ he finally sobered enough to reprove drily.
‘Then perhaps you should not have spoken so frankly in my presence?’
He gave a self-derisive shake of his head. ‘I believe I shall know better not to do so another time!’
She eyed him beneath lowered lashes. ‘And do you also enjoy it when I place my lips against you, and lick and suckle in the same way you do to me?’
Benedict groaned low in answer, that groan deepening as Genevieve suited her actions to her words, first pushing his shirt aside as she first kissed his nipples, before licking them with the moist rasp of her tongue and then lightly suckling. ‘I have created a monster!’
Again she gave him a sidelong glance from beneath the heavy weight of her lashes. ‘And you wish you had not …?’
‘God, no!’ he assured fervently as his fingers
became entangled in those loose red-gold curls.
What Genevieve lacked in experience Benedict very quickly learnt that she more than made up for with instinct, as she removed his shirt completely before running her hands in slow exploration over and across his chest, and then moving to stand behind him to do the same with the tensed muscles of his back, the lace of her gloves adding to the pleasure of those caresses.
Benedict’s jaw now felt as if it were permanently locked and his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he fought to maintain control. Fought to control the need he had to take Genevieve in his arms and strip her naked before laying her on the
chaise
and making love to her, as he had imagined doing for most of the evening.
Except he could not. This, whatever transpired between himself and Genevieve this evening, had to come from her, as she took them both to the level of intimacy she found acceptable.
Benedict only hoped he did not suffer a seizure—much like the one her husband had suffered on their wedding night!—before that happened!
Standing completely naked before a woman who remained completely clothed in her evening gown and gloves was yet another new experience for Benedict. One he found exciting. And he had never given particular thought to his own body before now, to its attractions or otherwise, but as Genevieve ran her hands slowly, tortuously, in a light caress over the flatness of his abdomen, the leanness of his hips and down the long length of his muscled legs, before starting an equally as intimate exploration of his back and buttocks, he found himself tensing for her reaction.
He had not received any complaints from women before as to the way he looked, but, as he knew only too well, Genevieve was unlike any other woman he had ever known.
Finally Benedict could stand that tension no longer. ‘Do you like what you see, love?’
Genevieve allowed her hands to once again trail lightly down the length of Benedict’s bared spine before slowly moving round to face him. ‘You must know that I do,’ she chided huskily. ‘You are everything I have ever imagined a man should be. Wickedly handsome of face.’ She smiled at him. ‘Wide and powerful across the shoulders.’ Her gaze lowered as her fingers trailed lightly across
that bared flesh. ‘Muscled about the chest.’ Her fingers moved lower. ‘Slender of waist and—and thighs.’ She hesitated, moving lower still.
‘Take off your gloves, love, and touch me there as you did earlier,’ Benedict bit out between gritted teeth.
Her cheeks were ablaze with colour as she slid her gloves slowly down her arms before removing them completely, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out tentatively to touch the pulsing length of Benedict’s arousal, her caresses becoming bolder as she heard his sharply indrawn breath. ‘Are all gentlemen as long and thick around as you?’
‘Ye gods …!’ He gave a strangled groan.
‘Is that a yes or a no?’ Her fingers curled about that steel encased in velvet.
‘It is—I believe I might be slightly larger than the average,’ Benedict managed to gasp between gritted teeth as Genevieve ran the soft pad of her thumb across the moisture that leaked from the slit at the top of that engorged tip just at the feel of her soft flesh encircling him.
‘You are certainly much larger and longer than—’ She broke off to draw her bottom lip sharply between her teeth, her hands
also ceasing their caresses before dropping away completely. ‘I apologise.’ She gave him a stricken look. ‘It was very wrong of me to talk of—to—’
‘All is allowed between us, Genevieve. All and everything,’ he reminded her tautly as he took a light grasp of her hand and replaced her fingers about him.
Her fascinated gaze also returned to that long and throbbing length. ‘I had no idea until today that a man could be so beautiful here …’
Benedict bit back another groan as she gave a swipe of her lips with the moist tip of her little pink tongue. Genevieve was both the most innocent and sensually exciting woman he had ever known; that very innocence, the honesty of her comments, excited him as the caresses and attentions of a more experienced women never had or ever could.
‘No, love.’ Benedict lightly grasped her arm to prevent her from moving on to her knees in front of him, knowing that his own knees would surely buckle completely if he were to still be standing on his feet when she placed those warm and delectable lips about him. ‘Allow me to be the one to drape myself decorously on the
chaise
before your explorations become any more … intimate!’
Genevieve could not help but admire the fluidity and elegance of movement of Benedict’s naked body as they crossed to the
chaise
, his muscles as lithe as a cat’s—and just as predatory!—beneath the silkiness of his tanned flesh.
She should still be feeling shy, embarrassed by their intimacy in the bright candlelight, and with the curtains not even drawn across the windows against nosy neighbours or passers-by. And yet somehow she no longer felt that way as Benedict lay his lean length upon the
chaise
before drawing her down to sit beside him, the blaze of candlelight, and the daring of those undrawn curtains, only seeming to add to Genevieve’s own state of arousal.
Perhaps she was every bit as wanton, after all, as she had tried to give the appearance of being on the night of Sophia’s ball, when she had first made the suggestion regarding the three young widows taking lovers?
Whatever the reason, Genevieve now felt no hesitation as she once again curled her fingers about Benedict’s jutting arousal before lowering her head, her hair falling silkily across Benedict’s thighs as she took him into the heat of her mouth.
Benedict drew in another sharp breath as
the heat of Genevieve’s mouth surrounded him, pleasure coursing through him as he watched her head bob slowly up and down as she sucked and licked, her teeth a gentle and yet arousing scrape along his length, her tongue stroking across and around his bulbous tip, lingering to lathe that sensitive spot just beneath the bulbous head as she obviously felt and heard Benedict’s groaned reaction to that intensely pleasurable caress.
She was an unrelenting siren. A witch. She seemed to know instinctively which caresses gave him the most pleasure, those caresses making him harder and more swollen, and driving him ever closer to release.
Benedict gave another groan as Genevieve hummed her own satisfaction as she tasted and lapped up the dribbles of moisture that had already escaped his control, the blood roaring through his veins, his vision blurring as he felt his release burning inside him to be set free. ‘You have to stop now, love!’ He reached down to gently grasp her arms and lift her up and away from him—only to groan anew as he saw the sultry arousal so evident in Genevieve’s face; her eyes heavy and deeply blue, her cheeks flushed, her lips—oh God,
those lips!—so swollen, and wet and glistening from her ministrations to him.
She pouted those swollen lips. ‘But you said you like it?’
Benedict gave a choked laugh. ‘Very much. Too much,’ he added as she would have made another protest.
Her expression became quizzical. ‘How can you possibly like it “too much”?’
He gave a restless shake of his head. ‘Because if you do not stop I am seriously in danger of—of releasing whilst still in your mouth!’