Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (22 page)

Devon leaned in close. “You have no idea.”

She blushed beautifully, taking another sip of her wine. “I’m fairly certain I do.”

Devon leaned back in his chair
, but never took his eyes from her. He felt like there was liquid fire in his veins, and all he wanted to do was be alone with Lydia. Alone and naked.

The
party finished the rest of the courses and dessert, and while the gentlemen stayed for port and cigars, the ladies returned to the drawing room. Devon sat back in his chair and swilled the liquid in his glass. His mind was filled with Lydia—as it always was. She had looked simply edible in her satin emerald green dress, a square cut bodice emphasizing the creamy expanse of her shoulders and breasts. He wanted to see her tonight, without the watchful eyes of their family, and set his lips to that porcelain skin of hers. If only he had the opportunity.

The gentlemen moved to join the ladies
, but as they crossed the foyer, Devon caught sight of an emerald green hem escaping up the stairs.

He halted. “I’m feeling rather tired
. I think I will retire for the evening. Please give my excuses to the ladies.”

His father and Colton nodded in understanding and
continued without him. As soon as he was out of their sight, he raced up the stairs and caught Lydia before she entered her room.

“Boo.” He pulled her into a small alcove that led to a balcony. Heavy curtains shielded the French doors that were
left open during the day to bring in the cooler ocean air during the warmer months.

She squeaked in surprise.
“Devon, you startled me!”

“I know, I meant to
,” he admitted boldly.

“What—what are you doing
?” She pushed at his chest, and looked around them as he pulled her into the privacy of the curtains and opened the doors.

He pulled her onto the balcony and closed the door. They were completely alone now, shrouded in the darkness with faint moonlight to see by and
a spectacular view of the hills spreading out to the water. It glittered like diamonds even in the weak light.

“It
’s beautiful,” Lydia gasped.

“I’ve seen better
,” Devon said as his gaze washed over her face. Her skin was silver in the moonlight, her hair as pale and glowing as the moon.

She met his eyes. “Why did you bring me out here?”

“For this.” He leaned in and caught her lips. She didn’t resist him. Instead, she melted into him and slid her arms up his chest to wrap around his neck.

“I need you
, Lydia.” He said against her lips.

She clung to him, pushing her body against his with knowing undulations.
“We talked about this, Devon. You know where I draw the line,” she moaned.

“Yes
,” he growled, but he would take what he could get.

He surprised her when he dropped to his
knees before her and began to draw up her skirts.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, but she only gripped his shoulders, she didn’t try to stop him.

He knew she was just as hungry as he was, and tonight he was determined to feast. He lifted her skirts all the way to her hips, and pulled the tie on her drawers until they loosened enough to pull down.

“Devon!” She gasped.

“Shhhh. Hold on to me, Lydia, and don’t let go.”

He kissed her.
Her most private place was exposed to the cool evening air, but when he slid his tongue in her folds, she nearly burned him. She moaned out load, a guttural moan of need and passion. Devon tasted her with his tongue, licked, and teased her sensitive flesh until she was achingly tender and wet. He sucked gently at her most sensitive flesh and felt the bite of her nails in his shoulders.

“Devon!” She cried.

He slid his hands over her tense thighs and softly curving derriere. She was clinging to him, losing herself in his wicked ministrations. He continued to eat at her, flicking his tongue back and forth, kissing, and sucking until he pushed her to the edge of her tolerance. She was panting and groaning, her nails raking through his hair and lightly scoring his scalp. She whimpered, her whole body tensed, and then she exhaled with a breathy moan as climax overcame her.

Devon quickly pulled up her drawers and retied them. Dropping her skirts as he stood, he pulled her into h
is arms and felt her collapse in satiated completion against him. He would give anything to bury himself inside her, but first he wanted to drive her mad with desire.

Her
skin was still fevered with arousal, but Devon could feel the cool breeze on his neck. “We have to get you inside, love.”

She nodded against his neck.
She leaned heavily against him as he escorted her through the French doors again, peeking around the curtains to make sure the coast was clear, and then walked her to her room. Her eyes were still dazed and glassy when he pulled her in for one last kiss and bid her a goodnight.

“
Goodnight, sweetheart, dream of me.”

“Goodnight
, Devon.” She smiled dreamily. “I love you.”

He couldn’t help it, he kissed
her again, thoroughly, and then ushered her through her door. He turned away reluctantly and headed back to his room just as the sound of Lady Covvington and his mother’s voices could be heard coming up the stairs.

Shortly after breakfast, the party left for the village and Devon handed Lydia into Colton’s stylish Phaeton. The sky overhead was clear, but Devon looked out over the ocean, and was concerned about the darker clouds remaining in the distance. He hopped up into the Phaeton as Lydia rearranged her skirts and circled around the drive. He wished he could have ridden his horse, but he settled for a quick ride right before breakfast. He still felt weak. Things that used to be daily activities still exerted him, but it felt good. His muscles were stretched and relaxed, and his lungs gladly took bracing deep breaths of the crisp morning air in appreciation. He felt better than he had in a long time.

“Did you sleep well?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He saw a small smile form.

“Yes, I did, thank you. And you?”

“It would have been better with your naked sated body next to me.” He grinned.

Her gaze snapped to him and she swatted his arm. He laughed as a deep blush stained her cheeks, and she huffed in ruffled modesty, “You scoundrel.”

“Don’t pretend to be surprised or offended. You may look like an angel
, but you sin beautifully.”

“Yes
, well, that doesn’t mean you should announce it out loud.”

“
Relax. There is no one to hear us. We are completely alone and my mind is rife with possibilities.” He smiled with liquid heat.

She turned away from him. “
You’re incorrigible.”

“You love it
,” he teased.

They sat in silence for a
while, enjoying the passing of the rolling hills and swoop of birds through the air. Devon turned down a track taking them from the main road. Lydia grabbed his arm as the wheels bounced over the rougher path mostly covered with grass and dried rivulets from the summer rains. They drove along until it seemed civilization had never existed, and they were in a world of untouched natural beauty. The vegetation was lush and green. Birds chirped excitedly and darted through the air while a deer loped in front of them, momentarily startled by the usurpers, and then sought cover in the brush.

It was beautiful and rejuvenating. It soothed Devon like a fresh draught of cool water
, and he let it sink into his skin with the sun light. He directed the Phaeton to a small clearing and came to a stop. Jumping down, he tied the reins to a tree limb and reached up to assist Lydia. She smiled a small smile that said many things. A small lick of heat spread from his groin. He set her down and kept one hand on her hip as he pointed out their destination.

“Colton and I used to spend hours here. That tree,
” he pointed to the center of the three largest oaks near the edge of the clearing, “was the first ship Colton ever captained. I was his first mate, or a pirate come to steal his cargo.”

“Sounds very exciting.” Lydia smiled warmly as she adjusted her bonnet.

Devon tuned towards the back of the Phaeton letting his hand drag across her lower back as he left her. He opened the boot and pulled out a blanket and basket. “It’s still a bit early for lunch, but I thought some scones and jam would be nice.”

“Splendid.” Lydia took the blanket and together they walked to the edge of the clearing until the shade from the oaks shielded them from the direct sun. Devon set the basket down and helped Lydia spread the blanket. She sat
primly near the edge and tucked her skirt around her feet. Devon sat in the middle, unhappy with the space between them. He looked at it pointedly.

“Is something amiss?”
she asked.

“We are completely alone
here, Lydia, no one for miles, no one to judge us if you scoot a little closer.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Did you bring me here to seduce me?” She laughed a breathy exuberant sound that warmed his blood.

“Not only to seduce you. I thought it would simply be nice to get out of the house and spend some time alone with you. Should seduction occur, it would mealy be coincidence with perhaps a touch of wishful thinking.”

She laughed some more, her cheeks flushing beautifully pink.
“You’re a rogue, Devon Brentton.”

“Yes, I would never lie about that.” He reached over and plucked her hand from the blanket. With a quick
jerk, he pulled her onto him, and they were briefly entangled in skirts, arms, and legs.

“Oh!” She gasped and then giggled. “This is rather forward
, don’t you think?”

“Did you expect anything less from me?”

“You are entirely too high-handed.” She sat up, but did not move from his lap. “Is there ever a moment when you are not trying to take control?”

“Not likely, although there have been many moments in my life when I’ve had absolutely no control. Like this
, for example,” he said as his hand skated over her breast and she gasped in surprise. “You see, that was completely involuntary.”

Lydia scowled at him. “You deserve to be taught a lesson.”

“And how do you suppose you are going to do that?” he challenged playfully.

She tapped her chin in thought for a moment before her eyes narrowed on him again. “I propose that you lie back and be completely at my will until I say otherwise.”

“Completely at your will until you say otherwise?” he said skeptically. “Those parameters are rather vague. If I am to agree to anything, there must be more details.”

Lydia smiled. Her eyes held a wicked glint. “You must
lie back, and let me do whatever I wish to you. Let me be in full control.”

All the blood in Devon’s body promptly filled his groin. His imagination began to churn out salacious images of Lydia doing all sorts of heavenly things to him. It was too good to be true.

“Just to be clear… you’re asking me to submit to you while you do… sexual things to me?” His heartbeat accelerated, each beat echoing the word—yes please—yes please—yes please.

Her cheeks flooded with color again
, but she did not look away. She merely nodded in the affirmative.

Devon was sure he had died and
gone to heaven. This was the best day of his life. He lay back on the blanket and spread his arms wide. “Do what you will.”

The minx giggled and adjusted herself to straddle him, sitting over his rock-hard
erection, which she must surely feel. She made no comment and leaned forward over his chest. Devon closed his eyes. Her challenge, her position on him—it was sensory overload, and if he wanted to live through her bold challenge, he needed a small measure control. He felt the gentle huff of her breath as she rested her chest upon his and tentatively licked his ear lobe.

Devon bit back a groan.

She sucked his lobe into her mouth and toyed with it, gently biting it before letting go, and moving her tongue in slow lazy swirls down his neck. He held still, but his hands itched to touch her. All too soon, she reached the stiff barrier of his cravat.

“Are you proficient with tying a cravat?”

“I’ll manage,” he growled.

He could feel her dainty fingers pulling at the cloth, unraveling the intricate knot until it fell to the side. She sat up, her body rubbing against his straining arousal, and Devon clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her hips and grinding into her. This was her game
, and he was determined to follow wherever she led.

She readjusted her
self until his cock sat in the hollow between her thighs. Did she know what she was doing to him? He wanted to growl, to throw up her damned skirts and sink into her warmth, but he kept still as she unbuttoned his waist coat and moved on to his shirt.

“Should I anticipate be
ing
al natural
in nature?” he asked huskily.

“Not completely.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. Was this retribution for catching her in the alcove last night? He flexed his groin muscles, his arousal twitched against her and she gasped.

“Devon!” She said with warning
, but her hips moved against him in a little wiggle. She pulled her skirts free from between them.

Devon groaned
aloud this time. He could feel her warmth and softness against him now through his breeches. “You’re merciless.”

She finished unbuttoning his shirt and spread the halves wide. She slow
ly trailed her fingers over his chest, sometimes lightly, sometimes letting her nails drag across his skin. She touched his nipples, first curiously, and then more determined as they reacted to her touch. She leaned forward again, and Devon tensed as he felt the warmth of her breath, and then the hot wetness of her tongue, circle his nipple.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax his muscles. His body
felt tighter than the strings of a violin and she was plucking away at him, pushing him to snap.

“Do you like this?” she breathed against his wet skin.

He nodded—afraid if he spoke, all that would emerge were growls and snarls. She moved onto his other nipple and took pleasure in torturing it into a hard pebble. She bit his skin and sucked. He could feel the sting of his skin being marked by her, and he knew when he looked at it later tonight, he would be aching for her again.

She moved lower, her tongue darting in and out to tickle and tease. She burned a trail to his
waistband and stopped, the tips of her fingers dipping inside and driving him to distraction. He cracked open one eye-lid to peek at her. Her face was rosy and her eyes glazed with desire. He wondered what she would do next… and if he could handle it. This was Lydia, his Lydia, and yet the woman atop him was wild with wicked intent. Was this his doing? She was a woman unleashed. A woman no longer held by the chains of society, and now he was reaping the benefits.

She was seducing him in a clearing, the sun above them, the wind and trees witness to their passion, and from the looks of it, she was thoroughly enjoying it. There was nothing more beautiful in the world than the way she looked now with passion—passion for him—written all over her face.

She fumbled with the placket of his breeches, unhooking each button agonizingly slowly as each touch pleasurably abraded his manhood. She scooted back on his legs and reached her hand into the tented fabric to grasp him in her warm palm.

“Oh
, God, Lydia,” he growled and closed his eyes again. He must be dreaming, this moment was too fantastic to not be a dream.

“I confess I don’t know what to do know
,” she said timidly.

“Squeeze a little harder and stroke up and down
,” he said through clenched teeth.

She did as he instructed
, and Devon promptly lost his wits.

The feel of him in her hand was like holding hot marble. He was so soft and hard at the same time. She did as he said, repeating the motion over and over
, watching the unguarded expression of his face even with his eyes closed. He liked this—really liked this. She tucked that information for use at another time. Right now, she was trying to remember the instructions Hattie had given her. She would never have thought of doing this herself, but the maid was very informative when asked about how to bring a man to his knees.

She scooted back further and leaned forward. She felt his body tense even more beneath her
, and his manhood jerked in her hand. She couldn’t stop now. It was positively thrilling to be able to give him so much pleasure and see him so overcome by it. She carefully set her lips to the head, and Devon moaned loudly.

“Lydia
, don’t,” he said.

His voice was raspy and deep, but he kept moving his hips in time with her strokes
, so she continued. She ran her tongue around the tip once, and then took him into her mouth as far as she could.

“Lydia!”
he cried out.

She would have smiled if she could; his hands were pulling up the blanket in white knuckled fists. Who knew that something that seemed so submissive could be so empowering
? She repeated the caress, taking as much of him into her mouth, and keeping one hand firmly clasped around the base. She kept the rhythm going, his hips mirroring her strokes, and his breathing becoming faster.

“I’m going to lose it!” He begged.

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she loved the way his chest and abs were tightening convulsively, so she kept going. She knew what to expect when he climaxed, Hattie made sure to warn her, but she didn’t know how to anticipate it.

“Oh god
, don’t stop now,” he gasped.

She kept going, her eyes taking in his pleasure greedily as if it were her own, and indeed, she wanted him as much as he wanted her
, but this moment was for him, for all the times he had given her pleasure and taken none for himself.

He threw his head back, his neck muscles bunching and tensing, and let out a guttural groan. At that
moment, she felt the hot fluid of his release in her mouth. When he was finished, she turned away and spit it out onto the grass. Hattie had told her men love it when a woman swallows, but Lydia was not enamored by that idea, so she chose to spit it out. She watched him as his breathing calmed and he lay there in relaxed satiation. Her body hummed with arousal, still wanting its own release. She tucked his manhood back into his trousers and lay down beside him, her head resting against his shoulder.