Lydia Dare - Wolf Next Door

He sat up until he rested on his knees between her parted legs, the sight of her damp curls and the scent of her nearly more than he could stand. Her drawers went the same way as her chemise, but she simply smiled when he tore them, too far gone with desire to care.

He placed a delicate kiss above her navel and then kissed his way down to the warmest, most tender part of her. His thumbs held her open as he licked across her heat. Her hand threaded into his hair and tugged. But not to pull him away from her. To push him to where she ached for him.

He devoured her flesh with soft nibbles, intrusive thrusts of his tongue, and then, when she was close to going wild with pleasure, he slid one finger into her. She arched against his tiny thrust.

"Will!" she called loudly.

He merely purred against her skin and then dragged her aching flesh into his mouth with one final suck. And that's when she erupted. Her wetness clung to his finger, her body arching for him. He slowly and masterfully showed her all the pleasure she could possibly desire in that moment. When she stilled and her heart began to slow, he moved up her body.

But the sensation he experienced when he looked into her passion-filled gaze was more than he could stand. She looked as though she adored him, all of her protective walls having fallen with her pleasure. Guilt ate at his soul. It was time to be honest with her.

Will rolled to his back, not touching her. Just lying beside her as she came down from her high. She rolled toward him, and he moved away from her. He was still fully clothed, while she was naked. "I need to tell you something," he said slowly as he rolled over to face her.

"What is it, Will?" she asked softly, her hand raising to gently brush his hair from his forehead. He had to do it now. She would find out as soon as he got inside her. So, he'd better inform her before that happened.

Will groaned. "You still don't remember the night in the cottage?"

Prisca sat up and rolled the edge of the counterpane over to cover her nakedness. He wanted more than anything to peel it back off her. "I remember some of it," she said as her eyebrows drew together.

"I wasn't completely truthful," he said in one explosive breath.

She scooted even farther back from him. "About?"

"About taking your innocence," he finally admitted.

"I don't understand," she said as she shook her head.

"What we just did a moment ago?" he prompted. She nodded. "We did that at the cottage."

A rosy blush stained her cheeks. "I do remember that."

"But nothing else." He released a sigh. His stomach clenched, and his mind shouted for him to stop, not to say another word; but his heart ached to tell her the truth.

She shook her head.

"Priss, that's all you remember because it's all that happened that night. You fell asleep on my chest."

"We didn't…"

"No," he said to stop her.

Her face paled. "But you let them all think…" she began, looking everywhere but at him. "You told Papa…"

"I'm sorry, Priss."

"You let them all think I'd willingly given myself to you."

He looked at her, his heart breaking at the look on her face.

"You let them think I'd lost my innocence, the very thing women hold most dear."

He reached for her, but she pulled back. If she went any farther, she'd fall right off the bed.

"I'd like to be alone for a moment," she finally whispered, staring at the ceiling above them.

"Priss," he groaned. If he could just make her understand…

"Only a moment, Will. I need to think a bit. Why don't you go and find that brandy?"

Perhaps brandy would help.

"I'll be right back," he sighed as he left the room.

***

He'd lied. The blackguard had lied. He'd allowed her family to think the worst of her. How could he?

Without giving herself time to think twice, Prisca slid from the bed, walked slowly to the bedroom door, and pushed it closed with a soft click. He'd be back soon. Too soon. Her gaze shot around the room. She spotted the chair draped with her peignoir set and considered moving it against the door to keep him out. That wouldn't work. He'd pulled her door off its hinges at Langley Downs. There was nothing to keep him from doing the same thing here. Then he'd be furious.

The purple gown across the room called to her. It probably wasn't the best thing to wear, given her circumstances, but her chemise was torn in two and she couldn't find her bombazine anywhere. The blackguard must have absconded with it when he went to retrieve the brandy.

She studied herself in the full-length mirror. Her breasts were a little too large to be fashionable, her hips a bit too wide. The side of her breast had been abraded by Will's beard stubble. And there was a small mark on her chest where he'd suckled her.

She didn't have many choices. Quickly, she tugged the peignoir from the back of the chair and lifted the silky nightgown over her head. She let it drop, where it fell like the gentlest touch she'd ever received. She turned to see the full effect in the mirror and frowned when she saw that the slit up the side went all the way up to her hip. It didn't cover much. Of course, he'd seen all of her and tasted nearly as much.

She jumped when she heard someone ascend the steps down the corridor.

***

Will stood outside the door and took a deep breath, trying to control the beat of his heart. What if she never looked at him the same way again? What if she never forgave him?

After he'd made his way to the kitchen, he'd found the light repast the footman had left. He held the plate with cheese and fruit in one hand and a bottle of brandy in the other.

He stood still and counted to twenty. He wondered if she'd still be draped across the bed naked. He knocked, then called out softly, "Prisca?"

"Yes?" Her voice was quiet and shaky.

"May I come in?"

"Can I say no?" she answered, her voice getting louder with each reply.

He cracked the door and poked his head into the room. He began to say, 'You absolutely may not say no,' but before he could get the words from his mouth, his breath left him in one big

whoosh

. He stepped the rest of the way into the room and nearly dropped the plate and bottle to the floor. "Now that I've seen you in

that

, there's no possible way you can tell me no," he said, quickly abandoning his refreshment and crossing the room in three strides.

"Do you like it?" she asked when he gazed down at her, her voice hesitant and uncertain. She patted her flat stomach and ran her hands slowly over the material.

"A better question would be, do

you

like it?" he said, as he stood back and just looked at her. A vision Venus would be jealous of.

Her black-as-night hair hung freely over her shoulders, the ends curling playfully around her breasts. He let his gaze linger there. She wore the wrapper that had come with the peignoir set, but the entire ensemble fit her like a silky second, lavender skin. He could see every bump and every dip of her beautiful body.

"Oh, I love it," she breathed, the hint of a smile playing around her mouth. But there was something wrong with it. He braced himself. "Thank you."

She sat down in a chair and crossed her ankles. "So, what happens now?" she asked.

Will scratched his head. He'd never had a woman ask that before. And for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do next. Had she forgiven him? He took the chair across from her and placed the platter of food between them. "Hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head, which made her hair tickle at her breasts again. "No. Did you say you have brandy?" she asked, pinkening when his gaze lingered around her cleavage. She brought the sides of her wrapper together to cover herself.