A Good Debutante's Guide to Ruin_The Debutante Files

Her hands crept around his neck and he deepened the kiss, growling when she slid her fingers into his hair and pressed her slim body against his.

She moaned into his mouth. “I missed—”

Her lips froze, as though startled by her own words.

He pulled back to look down at her. “Missed what? Me?” He smiled slowly.

She dipped her head, and he knew she was embarrassed. He could guess her thoughts then—that a single kiss with a stranger shouldn’t warrant her missing him, and she was correct. If a woman had announced she missed him before, he would have walked as fast as possible in the opposite direction. Yet hearing the words from her made something swell inside his chest.

He smiled and brushed a tendril of hair that fell across the hated domino hiding half of her face from him. Her eyes were dark pools, like the night sea. Again he wished to tear the offensive fabric from her face so that he could see her eyes. Her face. Bloody hell, he wished for enough light so he could see all of her and rid himself of the mystery. Was this even her hair or a wig?

She blinked slowly. “N-No. I . . .”

“But you came back. You sent me that note.”

“You must think me terribly forward.”

“A girl who gave me her first kiss?” He cocked his head, watching the movement of her lips. “That’s a far cry from what I think.”

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of that mouth. Her breath escaped in a sharp hitch. Another one of her little sounds he well remembered. “You can say you’ve missed me. Because I’ve missed—” He kissed the next corner. “—this mouth. The little sounds that escape it.”

He dragged his thumb across her bottom lip, his other arm pulling her closer, one hand gliding down her back. He spread his fingers wide. He could feel her through the thin fabric of her dress. The small bumps along her spine. The twin indentations directly above where her cheeks started to swell. “Have you kissed anyone else since that night?” he asked without deliberation. He had to know. He couldn’t stand the thought that she had come back here and taken with another man. That some man might have kissed her. Or done more than kiss.

“Have you?” she was quick to rebut.

He laughed lightly, knowing he deserved that. He had no right to inquire. He had no claim on her. “No. I haven’t.”

Her eyes widened. Apparently she didn’t expect that answer from him. Her gaze roved over his face. “You haven’t kissed anyone . . . since me?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I merely find it hard to believe. You’re . . . Banbury.”

“And what do you know of me?” He angled his head, something sharpening inside him. A sense, an awareness, that maybe she knew him. “Wait. Do you . . . know me?” His heart beat a little faster at the possibility. Did he know her? Had they met before?

The idea that their paths had crossed . . . that they might cross again, outside the walls of Sodom . . .

She shook her head fiercely. “Merely by reputation. We do not move in the same circles.

“That is unfortunate.”

She angled her head and he felt her curious stare even if he couldn’t clearly see her eyes in the shadow of her domino. “Why? Out there. In the real world.” She motioned in the general direction of the door. “We could never have this.”

“Perhaps we should make a standing appointment, then.” He brought his hand lower, cupping her derrière with one hand and drawing her fully against him. Partly so she could feel his desire, his cock hard against her belly. Mostly so he could just have her softness cushioning the part of him that throbbed to sink inside her.

“Here? At Sodom again?” Her words floated on a little gasp. Her chin lifted slightly, indicating the chamber.

“It doesn’t need to be here.” He would prefer it not be here.

She bit her bottom lip, mulling over his words. “I don’t know that I can do that. This . . . was hard enough to arrange. It’s tricky leaving the house.”

He frowned, not liking that this might be all they had. Deciding he needed to make this night count, he brought an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet, bringing her mouth up to his and kissing her as he carried her across the room.

She moaned against his lips, her hands flying to his shoulders as though frightened he would drop her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

He lowered her down on the bed, wedging himself between her thighs. Her skirts fell back, exposing her legs, deliciously stocking-clad legs with lacy black garters that he wanted to remove slowly. With his teeth.

He sat back, gazing at every inch of her displayed like some decadent feast for him. Those eyes of hers were dark and unreadable in her mask, peering up at him. Her lips were swollen from kissing, parted in a small O of wonder.

He ran his palms up her calves, over the curve of her knees, along her thighs, stopping just at her garters. Her breathing grew louder, raspy.

He took her hand, guiding her to him. He pressed her palm directly over his breeches, against his cock, groaning at the sensation of her hand, hesitant at first, and then bolder, molding to the shape of him. Her fingers flexed and traced him. He shuddered. Unable to help himself, he showed her what to do, grinding the base of her palm against him in rhythmic strokes.

“Oh,” she gasped. “It’s growing . . . bigger.”

He dropped over her until his mouth grazed the tender skin of her neck. “That’s what you do to me.” He kissed his way down her throat, fastening his mouth over her breast through the sheer fabric of her dress, sucking until her nipple beaded hard and she arched into his mouth.

“M-More.”

He wasn’t even certain what that meant, what more even was. He wasn’t even certain if she knew. All he knew was that he needed her, too.

He released his grip on her hand, leaving her there, fingers splayed over the length of him. She continued to explore, her slender fingers pressing and stroking his straining cock. His skin pulled tight at the base of his skull and his breath fell faster. He bit lightly, nipping at her breasts through the wet fabric, cupping them with both hands, his thumbs rolling over her nipples until she was shuddering and crying out sweetly in his arms.

Her hands still caressed him through his trousers. If he didn’t compose himself, he would lose himself like some green boy. He locked hard fingers around her wrist, stalling her movements.

She lifted her mouth to his neck, her lips moving as she spoke. “Please. May I touch it . . . you?”

The whispered request undid him. He froze for a moment, holding her gaze, wondering how he could stand much more of this. And then the answer came swift and resounding in his head . . . in the hard pump of blood in his veins. He couldn’t. Not anymore.

He pulled up, yanking open the front of his breeches, briefly severing the sweet torture of her hand on him. And then he was free, his cock jutting between them.

Her eyes fixed on him, her mouth parted in wonder. Neither one of them moved or spoke. Indeed, it seemed neither one of them breathed.

He couldn’t move. He didn’t trust himself. Her gaze alone felt like a caress. He inhaled, holding himself in check.

“Oh . . . I’ve never seen . . .”

He smiled, almost in pain. Of course she hadn’t. He almost wished she wasn’t so inexperienced. It wasn’t his habit to debauch virgins. He felt like the veritable scoundrel stealing away with a maiden’s virtue. His arms strained, holding himself in check over her.