Confessions at Midnight

Chapter Eighteen

Dressed in an ice blue, lace trimmed negligee and matching robe, Carolyn paced the confines of her foyer. She paused to glance at the clock on the corner table. Just past two a.m. She'd last seen Daniel an hour earlier in Lord Exbury's foyer as she'd departed the soiree. I'll see you very soon, he'd murmured. Before she could ask him to clarify what "very soon" meant, he'd vanished into the crowd.

Hopeful that he meant later that night, she'd sent Nelson off to bed as soon as she arrived home, raced up to her bedchamber and changed into her finest negligee. For the past half hour she'd kept up her vigil in the foyer, praying for the front gate bell to jingle, indicating he'd come.

She pressed her hands to her midriff to calm her inner flutters, and anticipation quickened her breathing, the same sense of expectation that had heightened her senses all evening. She'd spent very little actual time with Daniel at the Exbury soiree. They'd shared one waltz, during which she'd barely been able to speak, what with the inferno consuming her as he'd undressed her with his eyes. Indeed, about all she'd managed was to ask him if he'd received her gift. His eyes had blazed and he answered yes. And then he spoke the words that had whispered through her brain the rest of the evening: I want to give you all that, Carolyn. And more.

After that, they'd had only a brief conversation, and numerous glances across the room, ending with his cryptic, I'll see you very soon.

Yet their lack of actual contact had only served to elevate her yearning for him. She'd been painfully aware of Daniel every second, barely able to concentrate on anything or anyone other than him. And found herself more than a little jealous every time a woman claimed his attention. Lady Walsh, Lady Balsam, and Lady Margate-all beautiful women.

She'd wanted to slap every one of them.

After another quarter hour of pacing the foyer, she finally accepted the disappointing realization that "very soon" had not meant "later tonight." Heaving a sigh, she climbed the stairs and headed for her bedchamber, even though she knew sleep would elude her.

She entered her room and closed the door behind her. Tipping back her head, she closed her eyes and leaned her shoulders against the wood panel, every fiber of her being torn between missing Daniel and fervently wishing she didn't. Finally, she listlessly raised her head and opened her eyes. And stilled. And stared.

At Daniel, who lay atop her counterpane, his back propped up against the headboard cushioned by her lace-trimmed pillows, his arms raised and casually linked behind his head.

Daniel, who wore nothing except skin.

And who was obviously very happy to see her.

"You should probably lock the door," he said softly.

Unable to take her gaze off him, she reached behind her and fumbled with the lock. As soon as it clicked into place, he slowly rose from the bed and walked toward her, reminding her of a dark jungle cat who'd spotted its prey.

She couldn't have moved or spoken had her life depended on it. Her breath caught at the sight of him, so strong, muscular, and so very aroused. The heat smoldering in his gaze threatened to incinerate her where she stood.

The fire burning in the grate cast the room in a warm, golden glow that illuminated his body in a captivating pattern of shadows and light. When he reached her, he drew her into his arms and lowered his head. The feel of his body pressing against hers, of his bare skin beneath her hands as she ran them up his chest to encircle his neck, rendered her lightheaded. Their lips met and hers parted on a sigh of pleasure. Unlike their last kiss, which had been wild and frantic, this one was slow. Deliberate. Deep. Intoxicating. And liquefied her knees.

He lifted his head, ending the kiss as slowly as he'd initiated it, leaving her breathless for more. His gaze simmered with an intensity she hadn't seen before, one that made her wish she could read his thoughts. One that sizzled a heated tremor to her core.

Brushing his fingers gently along her jaw, he said softly, "Carolyn."

In response, she whispered the one word that had trembled on her lips all evening. "Daniel." Then she swallowed and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. For what seemed like forever, by the way. Where have you been?"

A sheepish grin quirked one corner of her mouth. "In the foyer."

His gaze swept over her attire. "Wearing a negligee?"

"I was waiting for you, as I'd hoped your 'I'll see you very soon' comment meant I'd see you tonight. How did you get in here?"

"I couldn't possibly tell you. After all, a man must have his secrets."

Realizing he'd repeated the exact words she'd said to him earlier, she tossed his own reply back at him. "You realize you're enticing me to find out."

"I'm delighted to hear you're enticed. I will tell you that my method of arrival is in keeping with my highwayman persona. And that the lock on your bedchamber window is not all it should be, but I managed to fix it while I waited for you."

Her gaze flew to the French windows that led to a small balcony. "You came in through the window! However did you climb up to the second floor?"

"As I said, a man must have his secrets, although I will admit I was fully dressed when I arrived. Since you wouldn't tell me what you wore to bed, I decided to find out for myself." His hot gaze skimmed over the cream lace outlining her breasts. "I like it very much. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I thought it only fair to let you see what I wear to bed."

Her gaze traveled over his broad shoulders and chest. She licked her lips. "I like it very much."

She wanted to press herself against him, feel the magic of his kiss again, but instead he took her hand and led her toward the bed. Rather than tossing her on the mattress as she'd hoped, he lifted a slim wrapped package from her night table. "For you."

"Another gift?" she asked, surprised yet undeniably pleased. She took the offering, which based on its shape and size she suspected was a book. Dear God, him showing up in her bedchamber naked was gift enough. "If you're not careful I'm going to start expecting presents every time I see you," she teased.

"It will be my pleasure to provide them."

"Shall I open it now?"

"Only if you want to see what it is."

Even though it was nearly impossible to concentrate on anything other than his nakedness, she managed to untie the ribbon and pull away the tissue paper, to reveal a slightly worn, leather-bound volume. She ran her finger over the gilt title letters, a concise collection OF GREEK MYTHOLOGY.

"Galatea told the highwayman that rather than jewels, she'd prefer a book from a gentleman's own collection. Since you gave me one from yours, I thought it fitting to give you one from mine." He touched a bit of blue ribbon emerging from one of the pages. "I've marked the passages relating to Galatea."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." One corner of his mouth lifted. "Not quite as stimulating as the book you gave me."

"Nevertheless, I'll treasure it."

"I'm glad." He took the book from her and set it on the nightstand. "And speaking of treasure, it's about time the highwayman collected his bounty." He lightly clasped her waist and his gaze wandered down to her feet then slowly back up. "You're stunning."

"As are you."

"Except you're overdressed."

"So I've noticed." She glided her hands across the breadth of his chest. "Will you help me correct me that?"

"Never have I received a more tempting invitation."

While he untied the sash to her robe, she pressed her lips to the center of his chest, closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. The smell of him, warm and clean, with a hint of sandalwood and starched linen, made her head spin. Made her want to simply burrow into his skin and do nothing save breathe him in.

She kissed her way across the broad expanse of his chest, absorbing his low growl of approval, while he slipped her robe from her shoulders. It fell to her feet in a whisper of silk, then his hands slowly unraveled her single braid, to sift through her hair. Her fingers traced his ridged abdomen then moved behind him to lightly circle the small of his back. When she flicked her tongue over his nipple, he sucked in a quick breath.

Tension all but radiated from him, proving he was holding himself in strict control, determined not to lose his command over himself. Unfortunately-or perhaps fortunately-she was equally as determined to see him lose that mastery. In that heart stopping manner that made her insides dissolve.

"You're distracting me from my task," he said, touching his lips to her throat.

"What task is that?"

"Getting you naked."

"Ohhhhhh…" Her voice trailed off when he cupped her breasts and teased her nipples through the silk of her gown. His hands skimmed upward to hook beneath the thin straps. Her breath stalled when he glided the garment off her shoulders. The cool material washed over her heated skin and pooled at her ankles to join her robe.

"Stunning," he murmured again, his gaze feasting on her. He feathered light kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, then down her chest until his tongue drew lazy circles around her nipple. While one hand palmed her other breast, his other roamed down the center of her spine, over her buttocks, then brushed along the sensitive cleft between.

She pulled in a deep breath, releasing it on a long moan when he drew her nipple deep into the warmth of his mouth. Her fingers sifted through his thick hair while everything inside her raced and throbbed, filling her with an edgy tension that demanded relief. She spread her legs, a silent invitation for him to touch her swollen, wet sex, but instead he continued his unhurried teasing and laving of her breasts, his leisurely caresses of her bottom.

She reached between them to touch him, but he lifted his head and captured her hand.

"Not yet." Bending his knees, he scooped her up in his arms. A startled gasp escaped her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he headed for the corner of the room.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking," she felt compelled to say even while reveling in his strength.

"I know. But I'm completely incapable of keeping my hands off you." He gently set her down in front of the full-length cheval glass then moved to retrieve the round, velvet-padded seat from her dressing table. After setting the small chair at her feet, he moved to stand behind her, his erection nestling against her back.

In their reflection, Carolyn saw his large hands come around her waist to cup her breasts.

"I want to make love to you here," he said softly, his lips brushing her temple, his intense gaze on hers in the mirror, "so you can see not just me, but both of us. Together. Me caressing you." His fingers lightly played with her pebbled nipples. "Kissing you." He trailed his lips along her ear. "Tasting you," he murmured, then ran his tongue down the length of her neck.

A barrage of tingles erupted under her skin, and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

"Look at me," he said in a gruff voice. "Don't close your eyes."

She blinked her eyes open and her gaze collided with his. Never had anyone looked at her with such fervent, focused heat. Such avid intensity.

"I want you to see me touching you, Carolyn." One of his hands skimmed down her torso, over her hip, then down to hook under her thigh. He lifted her leg and set her foot on the padded chair cushion.

An all over blush suffused her at the sight of herself so exposed, but any embarrassment she might have felt evaporated with the first brush of his fingers over her glistening sex.

A long "Oooohhhh" of pleasure escaped her and she arched her back in a silent plea for more.

"You're so beautifully soft," he said to her reflection, one hand lazily playing with her breast, while the fingers of the other slowly caressed her swollen folds. "So wet." He buried his lips against her hair, breathed deep, and gave a low groan. "And you smell so incredibly good. Feel so incredibly good."

She lifted her arms up and back to encircle his neck. "You make me feel so incredibly good," she whispered, darkly fascinated at the wickedly arousing sight of his hands pleasuring her.

He continued his slow but relentless assault on her body, slipping two fingers inside her, slowly pumping while pressing his palm against her sensitive nub of flesh with just enough pressure to make her tremble but not give her the relief her body desperately craved.

Her breathing turned shallow, rapid, and with a groan of desperation she undulated against his hand, seeking, needing, more. Panting, her head lolled against his shoulder. Lost in a fog of need and sensation, her eyes drifted closed.

"Open your eyes, Carolyn. Look at me."

His voice was a low, harsh command, and she did as he bid. His gaze, hot and intense, met hers in the mirror. "Say you want me."

She licked her lips, fought to find her voice. "I do. You know I do."

His fingers touched her just a bit deeper. "Say it."

"I… want you." Dear God, couldn't he tell? Couldn't he tell she was one touch away from wilting?

"I want you, Daniel" he said, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I want you, Daniel," she whispered, feverishly pressing against his hand, seeking relief from this brink of madness where he dangled her.

"Again."

"I want you, Daniel." She slid one hand from around his neck and insinuated it between their bodies to wrap around his erection. "I want you, Daniel. So much. Now. Please."

Dark satisfaction glittered in his eyes. Without a word he slipped his fingers from her and sank to his knees, settling his backside on his heels. He then urged her down with him until she knelt, straddling his thighs. Still facing the mirror, he positioned the head of his erection at her wet opening.

Watching in the mirror, while his hands cupped her breasts, Carolyn sank slowly down, dragging a long groan from both of them.

For several seconds neither moved. All she could do was stare into his eyes in the mirror and absorb the incredible sensation of him pressing deep inside her. Looking at him, and at herself. At them. Together. It was such a moving, stirring, beautiful, and deeply intimate sight her throat swelled.

She rested her hands on top of his where they cupped her breasts. And whispered, "Daniel."

A groan that sounded ripped from his throat echoed in her ears. "Carolyn. My God, Carolyn…" He rolled his hips and she moaned as he surged deeper inside her. She turned her head and their mouths met in a deep, lush, tongue-mating kiss. He stroked inside her with increasingly demanding upward thrusts, each one pushing her closer to a pinnacle of pleasure that remained just tantalizingly out of reach, building a ferocious need in her the likes of which she'd never before experienced.

Breaking off their kiss, with his gaze fastened on hers, he grazed the fingers of one large hand down her torso, over her abdomen and between her thighs. He tormented her exquisitely sensitive nub of flesh, his touch perfect and magical and relentless. Her climax didn't merely throb through her, it attacked her, bombarding her with an intense pleasure that had her crying out. Her fingers raked over his thighs and she drowned in the waves of her release as they washed over her. Her breaths were still coming in rapid puffs when Daniel's body stiffened behind her and through glazed vision she watched his release overtake him, his face taking on a utterly beautiful intensity as she felt his body throb and spill into hers.

"Carolyn."

Her name, sounding like a heartfelt prayer, whispered by her ear. Then he rested his forehead against her temple. His skin glistened in the firelight and his ragged breaths blew over her flushed skin.

She lifted one limp hand and skimmed her fingers through his mussed hair. "Daniel."

Their gazes met in the mirror. A surge of tenderness raced through her, so strong it shook her, and she trembled.

His arms tightened around her. "Carolyn, I-"

His words broke off and he swallowed. Twice. Something that looked like confusion ghosted over his features. Then his expression returned to its normal teasing warmth. "I think that will last me. For a few minutes."

"For a few minutes," she agreed.

"But the night has just begun."

Anticipation shivered through her and she latched onto the sensation. And firmly pushed aside the unexpected and unwanted tenderness that threatened to undo her. She knew very well where tenderness could lead, and that was a path she could not, would not, allow herself to travel down with this man. Tenderness had no place in their temporary affair. And so long as she remembered that, all would be well.

But as her gaze held his in the mirror, she very much feared that she stood in mortal danger of forgetting.