Despite the unshakable attraction between them, Maeve and Lucian are uninterested in love and marriage; especially since they hate one another and couldn't think of a worse match.
• • •
London, 1815
Maeve Langston's aversion to the opposite sex has...
Like the first time, their embrace got wild and out of hand quickly. Maeve hooked an arm around his neck, her other hand tangling in his hair, pressing her mouth harder on his. He let his hands slide down her back, all the way to hips, where he filled his palms with her soft curves, digging his fingers in the malleable flesh.
She was so absorbed by their kiss that she didn't care about their balance. Mumbling in her mouth, he guided her to the nearest wall and pressed her on it, making sure none of them would fall. He was already as hard as stone when he pressed his shaft against her core. He could feel her heat there, despite the layers of fabric that separated them. She moaned at the sensation and tilted her hips to adjust, spreading her legs a little.
This woman was fire, he thought. She was so responsive, so passionate, it baffled him that no man before him had managed to wake her appetite for this. To think the others thought her to be a frigid ice queen. She turned her head away, gasping for air, and he used this opportunity to kiss her delicate throat. He heard her panting with pleasure and decided to keep exploring. His mouth traveled across the underside of her jaw, followed the line of her collarbone, and nibbled at the soft flesh of her breast. When he ran his tongue in the crest between both mounds, she let out a loud moan, her hand clutching his hair almost painfully.
He could have explored her like this for hours, days, a lifetime... but she seemed to have other plans as she brought his face back to hers. She welcomed his mouth with a sigh, and her hips began to roll sinuously, in a gesture that was purely instinctive. Understanding they had taken it too far already, he grabbed her hips to immobilize her and moved his mouth away from hers. He dropped it on the side of her throat, where he could feel her heart pulsate erratically.
"Maeve," he said against her skin, his voice barely a whisper. "We have to stop."
She shook her head and resisted, trying to move her hips despite his firm grip. She let out a frustrated moan when it didn't work, and she tried to make him kiss her again.
"Maeve, no."
"But... I want..." She couldn't find the words, so she pressed her core harder onto his aching groin.
His brain was so fogged by passion, he wasn't certain how it was still functioning, but he suddenly realized something. He could win. Right here, right now. He could reach his goal to tarnish her reputation, to make John change his mind, to keep her away from him. She was right there, almost begging him to take her. All he had to do was lift her skirts, push himself inside of her, and fuck her to completion. It was easy, and every bone in his body ached to do just that.
However, his conscience chose this very moment to rebel. Yes, he wanted her, and yes, she wanted him, but she deserved more, she deserved better. No matter who she was, or what she was, no woman deserved to have their first time rushed like this, against a wall at a party.
He groaned, trying to resist the urge to lift her skirts and possess her right here. "I know what you want, swan. I cannot give it to you. Not like this. Not now."
"When?" she whimpered, and he could hear the distress in her voice.
"When I come back from Belgium." It wasn't a proposition, not even a promise, but a statement. When he would be back, and he would, he'd have her; in any way she would allow him to.
It seemed to ease her a little, and he moved back a few inches, still not letting go of her completely. "How long will you be gone?" she asked, and he almost laughed at her eagerness.
"I don't know. No one does. It could be a few weeks, a few months, a year..." When he met her eyes, he saw how much she disliked his response. "Will you wait for me, Maeve?"
Pressing his lips on her temple, he felt her tense. As her lust was slowly coming down, she realized what he was asking of her. Defiant, she stared at him, daring him to ask again.
"Promise you will wait for me. Only for me," he insisted, pressing his cock against her core. She gasped at the sensation but still didn't comply.
"No," she finally let out in a breathless moan.
Oh, she wanted to play that game? This was one argument she wouldn't win because Lucian wouldn't let her no matter what. This was too important to let her have the last word.
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