An English Lord's Love Affair

Chapter 13.1.1. A Path Of Mindless Lust

   Hiding in the dark for a month played unpredictable tricks on a man's mind. Deprived of human contact, of a woman's touch, of light, who would not be driven a little insane?

   Charlotte was a man's private fantasy, beautiful and passionate, a prize worth pursuing. And either she was afraid to death of his threats, which he doubted, or she had been unable to stop herself from caring about him. Why else had she not turned him in when she'd had ample opportunity to reveal his secret and run to her family for advice? Was it possible that he had won her wild heart? The possibility of ownership aroused his masculine pride.

   "I am happy to see you, Charlotte Brumidge," he said between kissing her ripe mouth and taking succulent bites of her neck. She was a banquet for his starved senses. He couldn't even pretend indifference to her presence. His reaction to her primal and would not be denied.

   "There's no air in here, Benedic," she whispered, not exactly fighting him even if she had not granted him permission to ravish her either. "How can you bear this?"

   In the dark his senses became too easily inflamed. By the vulnerable softness of her rounded breasts and belly crushed against his, by the subtle of her soap on her shoulders. She was all warm flesh and elusive female in his arms. He wanted to devour her from top to bottom, to undress her and worship her dreamy body to his heart's content.

   "Did you come here tonight to torment me?" he demanded gently.

   Of course he knew the answer. Charlotte was not capable of such a vindictive act. Any torturing on her part would be pure accident. No matter that she had bedeviled his plans, it was unfair to accuse her as undisciplined and impulsively trouble-prone as were her brothers, but he doubted there was a cruel bone in her beautiful body.

   "As if I'm as devious as you are, Benedic." She sounded so offended that he almost kissed her again to atone for insulting her, if not to keep her quiet. He couldn't hold her here much longer. Charlotte's sparkling personality would definitely be missed at the dinner party. "I had no idea you were hiding in your own house," she added softly.

   "And no one else is going to know either," he said. "But if anyone found me, I'm very glad it was you."

   "Why?" she asked, teasing him, he suspected.

   "You know damn well why," he said roughly.

   "Tell me, Benedic." She curled her hand around his neck and went limp against him. "I really want know."

   Boiling heat surged through his blood. What she did to him without even trying. What she could do with a little experience. "Lord, Charlotte, you're such a tease."

  "Am I?" He heard her breathing quicken, and the sound made him as hot and hungry as a predator about to claim his prize. She desired him, too. He wasn't alone in this maddening desire.

   He kissed her again. He knew he was more than a little out of control. He also knew from experience that in the dark she must feel disoriented, afraid to move until she got her bearings. It had taken him days to trust the shadows, to memorize the unfamiliar and become a true ghost. Who could blame him if he took advantage of her? He was so desperate for company, for physical sensation, for a warm, loving woman that he could barely think straight.

   It was a tribute to the Brumidge name that he wasn't seducing her senseless where she stood, leading them both down a path of mindless lust. God help him, but how he wanted to bury himself inside her. The accidental brush of her plump breasts against his chest was the most delicious agony he had ever known. The soft weight of her belly against his groin made him ache with desire. She had twisted him into a painful knot of frustration without the least effort. The spell she cast was potent, the ancient alchemy of female magic.

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