Alexandra groaned beneath his touch, reveling in the musky sandalwood scent that encompassed him while his fingers danced gently across her br**sts. Feeling the friction of her gown’s fabric against her increasingly tender n**ples as they strained against her bodice, she arched her back in a silent plea.
Michael responded immediately, lifting her onto his lap and bracing her back firmly against his chest as he began pressing tender kisses against the nape of her neck. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought of this moment,” he whispered against her ear. Caressing her head with one hand, he ran the other over each of her curves, all the while searing her skin with heated kisses. She gasped when he adjusted her position against him, and then again when he gently lifted her legs and placed her feet on the edge of the table in front of them.
An unfamiliar sensation swam through her. It was a hot and molten burst of desire that crept swiftly between her thighs, where it grew to a highly sensitized awareness—a wantonness and wickedness that surely would have shamed even a demimondaine.
With tender slowness, Michael’s nimble fingers unfastened the buttons of her bodice, until the back of it gaped open. Lowering his mouth against the curve of her spine he planted a row of kisses. All that remained to be done now, was for him to pull away the fabric that held her body captive—and he did so slowly, but without hesitation, exposing two perfectly rounded br**sts in all their glory. “Mm . . . so beautiful,” he murmured as his hands slid over them, stroking and teasing while she pressed herself against his hands.
He kissed her neck once more. “Open your eyes, Alex,” he said, his voice was thick with desire. “Look at yourself—at how beautiful you are.”
She barely dared to do as he suggested, fearful that once she did, she’d be forced to acknowledge her shameful behavior. Yet she couldn’t disobey his needy whispers, and so she complied, her eyes locking onto his in the mirror, surprised to discover that her own state of dishabille, added to the thrill of it all, exciting her even further. Her hair was partially undone, a few loose strands draped carelessly over her brow, her bodice slightly askew. Fascination lit her eyes, and she relaxed completely, content with the knowledge that at that precise moment, this was what she wanted more than anything else in the world.
Abandoning her br**sts, Michael reached down and took hold of the hemline of her gown, gathering the fabric as he pulled it upward until it settled about Alexandra’s waist, exposing the very core of her desire. “Ah, yes,” he breathed, his eyes wandering over her reflection while an impish grin played upon his lips. With gentle care, he placed his hands between her thighs, nudging her legs apart until she opened up completely.
Alexandra could barely breathe. Tingling warmth sifted through her most intimate part, giving way to a need she’d never before known and had never thought she possessed. She could scarcely believe that she’d allowed herself to fall into such a compromising position, but was perhaps even more shocked that it didn’t seem to bother her in the least. A deep yearning had taken root within her, and as a consequence, all her inhibitions had apparently vanished without a trace. “Please,” she now murmured, digging her fingers into Michael’s legs, her h*ps rising ever so slightly in search of something she couldn’t at all comprehend. “I don’t . . . I cannot . . . I . . .”
Running his fingers playfully along her inner thighs in a constant upward swirling motion, Michael pressed a kiss against her ear. “Shh,” he whispered. “Soon, my sweet. Very soon. Be patient and let me show you.”
Alexandra watched with growing fascination as Michael’s fingers slid over her.
Just when she thought she would surely die, he finally allowed one lone finger to trail its way along her sex. A tremor gripped her as he stroked her again, parting the soft flesh. A finger went in, and she sagged against him, her breath so ragged while an unearthly delight moved through her—wave upon wave in ever increasing intensity.
“Please,” she breathed, without knowing what she demanded. All she knew was that she needed something that felt so close she could almost touch it, yet somehow, it still remained out of reach.
“Soon, Alex. Just relax and let yourself go. Embrace your need.”
Raising her h*ps against the thrust of his finger, Alexandra felt the tension expand to a tautness that suddenly burst. Shivers of ecstasy rippled through her, sending her soaring on a wave of pleasure so intense and so dazzling that she knew she must have caught a glimpse of heaven.
The only thing that Michael could do was hold her. Alexandra had shuddered against him, voicing her passion with moans that had brought him close to the edge himself. No other woman could ever claim to have had such an effect on him. His blood had been on fire. Hell, it still was; his need so intense he could barely imagine not burying himself inside her. Yet he must, for her sake. This moment was about her—a lesson in sexual pleasure.
It had taken every cell in his body to rein himself in so as not to topple over. One thought reigned supreme in his mind however. He would marry this woman, if for no other reason than to experience this very thing every day for the rest of his life.
Unfortunately, his line of thought came to a rather abrupt halt when a most unwelcome and extremely unpleasant sound echoed through the air—a knock at the door.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Ashford, are you . . .”
The door swung open just as Alexandra managed to pull her skirts down and her bodice up in an effort to make herself just a tad bit more presentable. A second later, Ryan stepped into the room, the smile on his face falling away the moment he laid eyes on his sister. His whole countenance changed in that instance—his jaw clenched, his eyes darkened, and his lips were suddenly drawn tight in a grimace of complete and utter fury.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked.
He did not shout or yell. Indeed, his voice was low and even more frightening than if he’d bellowed the question like a madman.
Alexandra shuddered, taking a small step backward while she clasped the bodice of her gown against her chest. She sensed Michael getting to his feet beside her, but she couldn’t look at him.
This was that most horrifying moment of her life. Her face was flushed; she could feel it. Her hair was in disarray, and her dress . . . well, to be frank it didn’t much resemble a dress at all anymore but rather a length of crumpled fabric that she’d hastily draped about herself. In short, her humiliation was complete.
Or so she thought.
“What does it look like?” Michael asked.
Alexandra could not believe her ears. Was he seriously about to embark on a verbal battle with Ryan? They’d been caught. The least he could do was apologize like any other reasonable gentleman.
Then again, no gentleman would have allowed for such a situation to arise in the first place, she reflected.
No, Michael Ashford was a rake—a notorious one at that. He’d just made that shamelessly apparent. Then again, she’d been the one encouraging him. To be fair, she’d acted no better than a harlot.
“Do you want him to hit you?” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“He will do so anyway,” Michael replied, resigned. “And, having a hoard of sisters myself, I cannot think of a single reason why he shouldn’t. I only hoped to help him quicken his resolve.”
Alexandra gaped at him. “You want him to hit you?” She frowned, realizing she’d just asked that very question a mere second ago.
Michael grinned at her, just as Ryan closed the distance between them and buried his fist in his left cheek. He went down without pause, his grin twisting into something quite painful to look at.
Alexandra gasped. “Good God, Ryan,” she yelled as her eyes shifted between the heap of limbs sprawled out on the floor and her brother. He seemed to be more interested in attending to the reddening knuckles on his right hand, than he was in regarding his handiwork.
“Watch your tongue, Alex,” Ryan told her morosely. “I have had just about enough of you acting any which way you please. We’ve all done what we could to humor your antics, but we’re out in public now, not hidden away behind the walls of Moorland Manor. I won’t have you bringing our name to shame, no matter your excuses.” He let out a heavy sigh as he slumped down on the very sofa where Alexandra and Michael had just had their little tryst. He didn’t seem to notice and Alexandra was definitely not about to point it out to him.
“Should we perhaps help him up?” she asked as she looked down at Michael who was presently trying to pull himself together enough to stand.
“I believe he can manage,” Ryan muttered. “Do you know, I’m really quite angry with you, Alex, for putting me in a position where my only option was to bloody the Earl of Trenton’s nose.”
“Really, Ryan, it’s not as bad as all that. He will have a nasty bruise to be sure, but you didn’t bloody his nose.”
“Ah, then at least I have that to be thankful for,” he snapped sarcastically.
“Summersby.” Michael had finally managed to drag himself off the floor and haul himself into an empty chair. “I must apologize to you, though you ought to know her innocence remains intact.”
“I am so relieved,” Ryan growled. “You say it as if that makes it all right.”
“Well, I merely wished for you to know that as compromising as this situation might appear, there are certain things that even a man like me considers holy.”
Alexandra gaped at him. Was he really sitting there discussing her innocence with her brother? Inconceivable!
Michael cleared his throat. “I like you, Summersby, and I am sorry, truly I am. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
“Like this?” Ryan arched a brow as he pushed himself out of his chair, his hands clenching into tight fists while he regarded his adversary with silent disdain. “That, Lord Trenton, would imply that you meant for it to happen sooner or later. It implies, that you had no intention of heeding my warning and staying away from my sister at all. Do I take your meaning to be correct, sir?”
“You warned him?” Alexandra cut in, drawing the attention of both men. They turned their heads toward her, and she shot them both a tight, somewhat awkward smile. “As you can see, I am still here.”
Michael smirked at her disheveled figure, his cheek already showing signs of puffiness.
Goodness gracious it looked painful.
Without comment, he turned back to Ryan, ignoring Alexandra and her loud sigh of annoyance. “As I was saying, I did not mean for it to happen like this. In truth, I meant to begin a courtship with her first. Unfortunately, it would seem we got a little . . . carried away. However, I would like you to know that, given the circumstances, I have every intention of standing by her and doing the right thing. I shall marry her as soon as we are safely back in England.”
“You’ll what?” Alexandra squeaked, staring at Michael in shocked disbelief.
Ryan looked suddenly transformed—a brilliant smile of relief lifting his features. “I’m so relieved to hear it,” he exclaimed, giving his soon to be brother-in-law a sound nod of approval. “So, very, very relieved indeed.”