“Because the more I have come to know you, the more I wanted to taste your lips, touch your skin”—he exerted gentle pressure with his arm and she gave in, lying back—“see your cheeks rosy with pleasure. I like you, Juliana. Our liaison is the physical evidence of my regard for you.”
He was very close to her, looking down at her, one hand stroking the hair back from her face. “And I suppose you wish to show me more of your regard.”
“I do, yes, but not in the way you mean.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to lie with me?”
Still holding a lock of her hair between two fingers he looked at her. “If you mean do I want to strip bare, throw up your skirts, and thrust inside you, the answer is yes. There’s nothing I want more. It’s pure instinct for a man when he is aroused, and you most definitely arouse me.” He rubbed her hair between his two fingers. “But I am not a man ruled by instincts. My father was such a man, and I don’t intend to follow in his footsteps. I will father no bastards.”
“I imagine most men don’t want bastards, and yet the orphanages are full.”
He dropped her hair and his gaze became serious. “Many men don’t care and others don’t care enough to do what is necessary to prevent a bastard from being born. I think you of all people know how I feel about bastards.”
Julia considered this. There was only one way to ensure a child did not result from a tryst. “Are you saying you have never… I mean, that you are…”
“A virgin? Yes. Does it shock you?”
Beyond words. In her experience, men wasted no time divesting themselves of their virginity. Men of the nobility seemed to pride themselves on sowing wild oats, which meant leaving a trail of prostitutes, actresses, and barmaids in their lascivious wake. Even if she could believe Neil had retained his virginity, despite being a soldier and the son of a wealthy marquess, she could hardly believe it after what he had just done with her.
“You are shocked,” he said, scrutinizing her. “You also seem dubious.”
“I wouldn’t dream of questioning you.” She tried to sit.
He stalled her with one finger. “But?”
She looked askance. “You seem to have some experience.”
“And you have none? I’ll wager you’ve been kissed before.”
“Yes, but not—” Her cheeks felt hot, though why she should feel at all embarrassed after lying half-naked and exposed before this man was a mystery. “Not the way you kissed me.”
“I kissed you in an unvirginal manner?”
He’d raised her ire. “‘Unvirginal’ is not a word, but to answer your question, you kissed me like a man who has kissed many women. Like a man who knows how to kiss, how to enjoy it, and how to make certain I enjoy it.”
She realized what she’d said too late and sighed at the wide smile on his face. “So you enjoyed my kisses. What else did you enjoy?”
“You know the answer to that.”
The finger that had rested on her shoulder slid down. “The way I touched your breasts?” He pushed her hands aside with lamentably no resistance on her part and moved the material covering her. His hand stroked over her skin, just as she’d hoped he would. “The way I suckled your nipples?” He bent and lapped at one hard tip with his tongue, and she put an arm around his neck as though to keep him there. What was she doing? She couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust men, and yet this man was not at all like any other man she’d known.
“But I think what you really enjoyed was my hand between your legs.”
“You shouldn’t say such things.”
“My darling, Juliana, what you don’t seem to understand is that I may be a virgin, but I’m no priest. Just because I haven’t ever”—he seemed to be thinking of the way to put it—“known a woman in the biblical sense doesn’t mean I haven’t known women.”
“I see.” Her voice was barely a whisper as one of his hands trailed a lazy path down her abdomen.
“I don’t think you do. I don’t think you know all the extremely pleasurable, but very naughty, things we might do without there ever being any chance of a bastard.”
“No, I don’t.” She gasped as his hand stroked over her center.
“Shall I show you another? That had been my plan before you accused me of all manner of nefarious plots.”
“And how do I know you don’t have nefarious intentions now?”
His hand fisted in the fabric of her skirts and began pulling it higher, revealing more and more of her legs. “Oh, I do. I intend to behave most wickedly, all in the name of giving you pleasure. But, Juliana.” She opened her eyes at the demanding tone in his voice. “I do this because I want to, not because I expect anything in return. The day you give me more than the pleasure I take from watching you climax and hearing you moan and feeling your body writhe beneath my touch is the day you offer, freely and willingly, to pleasure me. Do you understand?”
His hand was between her legs again, and she couldn’t possibly answer him. Her body was already tightening in anticipation of the feelings she knew he could give her. Though she could not manage to find words, she understood something very well. She had found a man who was, ostensibly, far less selfish than she because she planned to take what he gave and give nothing in return.
He moved over her, less tender now, and lifted her by the waist until she was farther back on the bed. He settled himself between her knees and spread them wide. Julia reached to cover herself, but he caught her hands. “I only want to look at you, to see what I will taste.”
“Taste?” she squealed.
“I promised nefarious activities, didn’t I?” His gaze went back to her core. “Perhaps I wasn’t entirely honest earlier. Seeing you like this—lovely and pink and wet for me—is more than enough payment.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Shh. I know what you meant, and I don’t fault you. You’d be a fool to trust most men, most women too. And you are no fool. No.” He bent and brushed his stubbled cheek along her inner thigh. Julia jumped. “You are brave.” He kissed her thigh. “Determined.” He kissed the other, this time a bit higher. “Intelligent.” His lips brushed her curls. “Caring.” His mouth brushed against that innermost part of her and she gasped. “And beautiful. So beautiful.”
His mouth settled against her and then she felt his tongue stroke and part her. The little bud he had teased with his hands earlier tightened and strained and was finally rewarded with a lick from his tongue. Julia moaned. He licked her again, his tongue lazy and inquisitive, rubbing against her until pressure began to build.
This pressure was unlike what she had felt last time. That had been pleasant and warm. This was more grasping, more desperate. As much as she had enjoyed the pleasure he’d given her before, this time she knew it would be more.
His hot breath feathered over her swollen flesh. “Do you enjoy my tongue here?”
She nodded.
“I can’t hear you all the way down here.” He blew a breath of cool air over her and she let out a small cry. “Do you like this?” He laved his tongue over her, and her hands fisted in the bedclothes. “Or this?” He flicked the tip of his tongue across her, and she cried out.
“Yes! Oh yes!”
“Good.” His tongue returned, grating and tapping against her until her whole body strained toward something indefinable. The entire experience wasn’t even pleasurable. It was agony, but the sweetest sort. She would have killed him if he had stopped, and she wanted to kill him for making her feel this way.